Down by the River...happily sketching!

Finally, a cool morning and off to the river for some quality time...I had plenty of time to think and dream and just BE.  This is my small Noodler's Creaper pen with DeAtramentis Fog Grey ink...

Not really wild if you're wearing shoes, but the new rubber sandals allowed me to wade on the gravel and sharp rocks...I call it a compromised win!  I felt like a kid, though...

The light was magical...

Joseph heads off downriver to fish--I actually outlasted him for once.  He walked home, I drove when I was ready...

No idea how this got turned up on end...I like to think a particularly hungry raccoon was looking for shellfish...

Driftwood shapes...you'll recognizes these last two in my sketch!

Ripples catch my eye...

Green July peace...

Hot-morning wandering, Day 19

This is from last summer's explorations, a backyard Materia Medica...

I wander around doing a bit of wild garden maintenance while it is still cool enough to breathe, freeing the holly from the grasping vines of Traveler's Joy and cutting back volunteer Ailanthus sprouts where there is no room for a tree to thrive.  I am itchy and smell of Tree of Heaven, but it feels good to visit corners of our smallholding and offer love and gratitude.

My reward was the incredible cobalt blue dayflower, Commelina communis, with its two prominent petals and and one much less so.  It was named for 3 brothers, Dutchmen named Commelin.  Two became well-known botanists and the third died before he could contribute anything to the field.

The photo doesn't begin to do it justice...

I had forgotten what a useful medicinal it is...but given how little there is here, not so very common despite its "communis," I just enjoy its amazing color and smile a bit at its history.

When harvesting wild plants for our use, it is always best to take only a few and leave plenty for the Little Cousins, as well as for their own propagation--and that only if there is an abundance. I often satisfy myself nibbling a leaf here or there...

It seems to me that these wildings are much more rare than they were when I was younger...or I'm less willing or able to go too far afield to find them!  Sometimes I find a huge stand of jewelweed, useful for itching or rashes or the sting of nettles.  Occasionally in the early spring there will be a great plenty of wild greens.  But the huge brambles of wild berries, or stands of pawpaws or persimmons are more rare than they once were.  I am happy with a taste...

I love finding Indian Strawberries hiding in the grass and gill-over-the-ground, also called "mock strawberries"--Duchesnea indica (sometimes called Potentilla indica)--though not poisonous, they are dry and tasteless, unlike their distant relatives.  Those, I just enjoy looking at or sketching!

Our small front yard garden provides enough, without trying for wild edibles that are either tasteless or scarce...

Later in the day, stuck at a trailer place getting my Jeep wired (45 mintues turned into a bit more than 2 hours, with music that made me cringe), I passed the time sketching my husband...about ALL I got done that hot afternoon...

Day 18, exploring ancient tools again...from the comfort of my AC!

On the way to the shed, I taste of a young dandelion leaf sprouting from the bare earth where my neighbor's water line was recently replaced.  I enjoy its tender, flavorful bite, and called it good...my summer-morning wilding!

Tender young dandelion plant

A day of heat and thick blue humid air, when my "re-wilding" in the middle of the day must be done indoors, exploring pigments and ancient methods of making art--and watching the wildlife beyond my windows.  In lieu of a mountain stream or a cool lake to jump into, this will have to do.

The books I spoke of the other day are these--so different but all useful and inspiring.  I've done many of the things these authors suggest, from making my own pigments as I mentioned the other day to cutting pens from quills, twigs, bamboo and reed...

(I've owned the Dover book in the center for years...it's one of my favorites.  The other two are recent...if you click on the image it will enlarge enough to see titles and authors.)

I often test one stone against another to see if they'll grind with interesting colors...here's hematite, ochre, and some interesting greenish-gray pebble.  The grinder at top is a found stone, the other is an inexpensive Japanese suzuri or ink-grinding stone.

Here are a few of the pens I've made...

The pen on top has a tiny reservoir added, to make it hold more ink.

This is how Denis Diderot illustrated cutting a quill pen in the early 18th century...I use a similar method.

 
I have arranged with the friend who made the rawhide for the healing drum to save me some deer hair to make my own paintbrushes.

There is something so satisfying about making and using your own tools, whether art tools, practical pottery, sandals, moccasins, knives...

I used this little flint herb-cutting knife in the garden today, trimming back some things and harvesting on my way to the shed.  The handle is bone I found in the woods...

And for the maximum inspiration beautifully presented, there is this video chronicling primitive potter Kelly Magleby, exploring pottery Anasazi-style.  I am in awe...my own experiments with primitive-style pottery seem almost urban by comparison!

Hand built raku pot

Day 17...not as wild as I once was!

I seem to have mis-dated my page, though!

Heat really gets to me, after a run-in with heat exhaustion about ten years ago, so I have to time my outdoor activities in the summer with that firmly in mind.  This night, the heat and humidity were marginal--I almost didn't go with Joseph to Rocky Hollow, but I was delighted I DID.

The early-evening light made long shadows where I could hide...

I often wear a damp kerchief around my neck when it's hot out...a trick my ancestors knew well.  Occasionally I spray myself with water from my little watercolor kit, too...but when there's no breeze at all, that's not a huge help.

We are designed so our sweat will cool us as it evaporates, but on humid days that just doesn't happen...I feel as though I'm coated with rancid yak butter.  I find my inner journeying somewhat derailed by not being able to breathe properly...

The wee fan fits right in the drink holder, and can be aimed almost anywhere I need it.

Teeny-tiny technology to the rescue!  I am never above combining modern solutions with my re-wilding if it lets me enjoy the inner journey a bit longer, and in more safety--heat exhaustion is no joke.

The fan is rechargeable and works a treat--a little lifesaver...

Knowing our limitations is part of the journey...

I've been reading Elizabeth Gilbert's The Last American Man, about Eustace Conway, an amazing, brilliant, and committed man who lived close to the land and hoped to turn America around to his vision by sheer will and energy--and commitment.  It's a fascinating book, and I've done some of the things Conway espouses...but yes, at my age I need my AC, and my fans, and a comfortable bed!

31 Days Wild, day 13...

The air is thick and still this morning.  Thunder mutters and grumbles in the West and another severe thunderstorm is on the way.

Tiny winged vampires circle and land; the indoor/outdoor cats have their small cloud of admirers hovering over tender ears and noses, wherever the fur is thin and flesh is vulnerable.  All creatures may indeed be sacred, but I will admit to sacrificing a few mosquitoes when they would do likewise!

The Smallwood is dark as dusk; the entry looks like a cave's mouth, and I head for home before the storm breaks.  Moments later the wind howl and tears at the trees; rain sluices down in a flood that falls in sheets and obscures Siloam Mountain--as well as neighboring houses.  Primal!  I watch from the porch...

I did a video of the wind rising...no idea if it will open here if you're not on Facebook, though...sorry!

My skin loved the feel of a cool breeze and light, soft fabric...I am aware of the pleasure of just being, the delight in this incarnation, right now, this moment.

The deck is covered with a mosaic of wet leaves in various stages of decomposition...

In the evening, strange bits of light illuminate the shadows deep within the Smallwood...sometimes softly, edges blurred like wet-in-wet watercolor, sometimes sharp and crisp, a glittering contrast to the deepest shadows.  One in particular, at this most fleeting moment, appear like the glowing eyes of some mysterious forest creature looking back at me from his cave.

Then the bright gaze fades into the tapestry of green, as though he'd closed his eyes for the night...when I go to investigate, there is nothing there.  

They say you can only see the Fae of you look from the corner of your eye, or catch a fleeting glimpse, or from a distance, like the Spooklight in southern Missouri...and so it appears.

When I was younger, I would go for drives down country roads on summer nights.  Moving slowly, sometimes my headlights would catch tiny glowing lights winking back like the eyes of a miniature fox or deer.  I'd stop the car and walk forward until I could see a wee spider crossing the road, hoping I would let it be...and I always did.

Day 12, re-wilding, one bite at a time

Perception.  I was hot in the sunny garden; that's why it is there, vegetables need sun.  When I walked into mulberry shade a few steps away, it felt cool.  A few moments in the house and it was cooler still...and by the time I  reached the shade between back door and my shed, it felt hot and sticky.

I'd be willing to bet that mulberry shade and shed shade are the same, give or take a degree.

Perhaps perception really is reality, a "truism" I have steadfastly refused for decades, insisting on the immutability of Truth.  But it seems that perception is the current reality, after all.  It certainly can apply emotionally, as well as physically...

I moved a cushion to the floor and sat cross-legged in meditation for a while, just being and breathing...the first I have done that particular thing, during this month of inner journeying, I was surprised to realize.  Then I played the bones and the drum for a while...taking time to focus/unfocus.  No plans, no expectations.

I could feel myself relax into the moment, and it stretched into a shape all its own.

It set the tone for the rest of my wanderings...

The scent of aromatic gill-over-the-ground and the pleasant spicy taste...

The gurgle of water as it courses down the path after the rain...

The feel of the wind on my bare skin...

Someone's home was spangled with mist-glitter...

Raindrop magnifying glasses on a redbud leaf...

The back yard was sodden and the prayer flags hung like wet clothes on a line...

The deck shone with silver moisture...I was taken by the long shadows of the morning...

A colony of lichen has moved in on top of my chiminea's lid.

And oddly, I felt the LEAST a part of nature later at our local park...Pokemon Go has arrived and the park was anything but peaceful.  OR wild.  I chose to ignore that for my sketch but I still see the unusual crowds in my mind's eye...

A Day Late...or two...11 days in, and struggling

Coffee on the deck with Pepi...birdsong, water splashing, early morning sunlight gilding the spiderwebs and fine grass blades...

Pepi likes the new fountain, too...

Peace.  The breeze stires the prayer flags and the small birds sing their varied song....

Peace.  The only sounds are those of a summer morning and the surf of traffic on the small state highway nearby.

Peace.  The surety of love and the gift of having Enough.

The wee dragon sits by the fountain...

Hotei enjoys the scent of incense in the tiny iron pot...

A lacy leaf hangs suspended in an invisible web...

But coffee on the early morning deck keeps me grounded...

Old cat drowses by my side...

The prayer flags are tattered and faded, but as long as they wave, they carry our prayers with them.

The iridescent gazing ball wears a wild wreath of trumpet vine...

We HAVE been busier than usual, both with people and with work.  Over the weekend and unprecedented 6 orders came through...we are grateful but puzzled.

Strange that there are so many distractions and interruptions in this month of renewed attention and focus.  Joseph says it's no coincidence, and I believe he is right.