Sunday, January 19, 2020

Writing frequent blogs is a challenge that forces me to think harder and learn more. To cobble writings that are interesting enough to hold readers is easier said than done. Through experience, I’m learning that it’s essential for a frequent writer to seek ways to stay ahead of the game, or in other words, keep creativity alive and make it flow.

It’s helping me to think more seriously about art and photography. I’ve always had a good eye for balance in a photo and could sense if it would satisfy viewers. Beyond that, I didn’t look closely into what more might maximize an image’s potential.

As an example, I initially overlooked the above photo. It’s a casual shot that struck me as uninteresting. Now, my more intent focus on the elements of perspective and distance, as well as on balance, has transformed this little throwaway into an interesting mini-essay.

I stumbled into this process of self-education in art and photography. It began shortly after my elder sister passed away, and I felt a yearning to capture her essence somehow. My first thoughts were to write a poem or draw her image, neither of which I knew how to do. So, I decided to learn and began reading books on the art of creating art. Those taught of light and shadow, contour and line, form and perspective.

Some sort of camera usually is with me for capturing ideas, subjects, and visuals for my blogs. Gradually, I began seeing differently through the lens, and found myself studying objects and scenes for lights, shadows, contours, and alignments for perspective.

Here’s another throwaway, that suddenly feels appealing.

I still want to begin drawing with colored pencils. I’m timid about trying that, but becoming encouraged through a better understanding of what makes images work.

Dear Friends: It’s on to new photos, more learning, and surely on to drawing. Diana

Saturday, January 18, 2020

In the aftermath of a sudden heavy snowstorm the previous evening, I trekked the horses yesterday through slushy streets to the pasture where they spend daylight hours. On my shoe bottoms were lightweight cleats, but the road felt less slippery than it appeared, so before leaving to walk home I unstrapped and stuffed the cleats into a jacket pocket.

Also before leaving, I checked the water level in their trough and found myself facing a massive ice layer. It needed chopping through and my usual “tool”, a three-foot block of wood for slamming against and into ice, proved inadequate. To avoid having to go home and return with an iron mallet, I wandered to my neighbor’s barn and discovered half-buried in snow a drain shovel. That’s a shovel long and skinny, with a round and somewhat sharp nose. Holding the shovel high with its nose pointed to the ice, I used all my strength to pound repeatedly into the ice layer and finally managed to create a crack. That began the breaking-up toward a drinkable supply.

The ice layer was about 4″ thick and I should have captured it in a photo, but forgot. Anyway, here’s one from those moments of cute Pimmy. She’s nearby and like her buddies looking for grass.

After leaving the horses and coming home, a tree captured my attention by appearing different from usual with new snow creating highlights. This photo of that tree serendipitously reveals our slushy walkway.

The tree’s appeal knocked into action my right brain and made me start seeing artistically. It seemed a good idea to capture portions of the trunk, to add perspectives in images of the surroundings. I began by taking a low shot under the canopy that shows the terrain’s upward nature.

The next photo achieves more what I hoped to capture. The nearby tree lends the perspective of distance against a far group of naked aspens. Those trees, about 100 yards away, mark an entranceway to the pasture where my horses grazed.

The horses remained in that pasture several hours, and most likely without finding adequate edible grass. On arriving home they hurried to some left-over “filler hay”, with Rosie not even waiting for her reward (an orange for behaving well on our walk home). After handing Sunni and Pimmy their treats, I carried Rosie’s to her and watched the bright color disappearing in a mouthful of hay.

Dear Friends: This morning, again with new snow, will offer more right-brain treats. Diana

Friday, January 17, 2020

Yesterday, what a day! Throughout it, our area had had light snowing and no accumulating. But around 4 p.m., a head-on weather change killed my then-plan, to feed the horses before leaving for Redmond to attend a driving club meeting.

When sudden heavy snow and high winds took over, this environment dimmed. Snow accumulated quickly and winds whipped juniper branches into high action. From inside, I peered through one window after another to assess the storm’s velocity and potential length. Finally, the Driving Club’s leader and I, both feeling terrible about this, decided to cancel the meeting. I posted notices through Facebook and email, at about 4:30, or an hour before the scheduled start.

So, we could have guessed! One person showed up for that meeting and texted me angrily. She missed the cancellation notice while traveling from Sisters to Redmond. She added that neither Sisters nor Redmond had any new snow. She also explained her eagerness to expand local driving opportunities through the Club.

We communicated lots, with me highly apologetic, and meanwhile, the Club’s leader managed to find a location and reset the meeting for next week. The person in Redmond seemed mollified, but still, I felt badly for her. A couple of years ago, I traveled from Bend to Redmond, through an unusually hard-driving rain, to attend a driving club meeting. Standing alone outside that Library, and by then soaking wet, I learned that the meeting had been cancelled. After that, I avoided the driving club, it seemed in disarray.

Recently, Central Oregonians who enjoy driving horses, who’ve participated in past with the club, have worked hard to revive the common interest. We’ve met successfully, are communicating regularly via Facebook and email. For January, we had distributed a meeting agenda. The late-hour weather blew-up the plan.

My lesson from this experience will be to change the wording in meeting notices. From now on, they’ll include a blurb about “weather permitting”. This area’s winter months often become confounded by instant weather changes. Through the remainder of this winter, and in future, we will try to caution ahead and to communicate changes better.

Dear Friends: Successful collaborations rely on leadership, planning, communicating. Diana

Thursday, January 16, 2020

I walked home after leaving the horses on pasture and spotted a mature tree with a massive trunk. Making the tree interesting is that, during its early life, it produced multiple branches that today appear very strong and distinctive. That tree full of character is here in larger perspective.

Despite the afternoon’s icy-bluish nature, I bundled-up to walk the horses to pasture. Our streets were slippery, in appearance, so my boot-bottoms had heavy cleats. Our quartet moved slowly, carefully. Once in that pasture, the horses were happy, even with only sparse tasty grass. It took all my strength to break thick ice on their lonely watering trough.

I left the beasts searching for tidbits and turned toward home, enjoying my searches for new and compelling “snow art” scenes, and also, I peered upward. I wanted to interpret the icy-blue sky, filled with clouds and busy with weather warnings. All that’s overhead are readable messages, or “sky news”.

Still early today, our local sky remains icy-blue, but now it’s an uninterrupted blue. Our overhead hasn’t even a single cloud.

Dear Friends: This winter, although warmer than usual, is as beautiful as winters past. Diana

Wednesday, January 15, 2020

Yesterday evening, the view from my property of Pilot Butte underscored an overall “bluish environment”. I spent most of the day working inside and customers said that outside, although very cold, had become clear and sunny. That perception didn’t last until I came home. These photos of the animals working through their hay reveal the cloudless and icy-blue sky.

I finished quickly enough with the horses and goats to enter the house in time to watch the final presidential debate. I didn’t expect to hear much different from past debates and was more interested in other aspects. Like, how articulately the candidates responded to questions, whether their comfort levels more fully had adjusted to the pressures, and whether an appearance of “Presidential” might suddenly pop-out. Those candidates still face long roads ahead.

Locally, the Central Oregon Chapter of NOW (National Organization of Women) has had serious problems. It’s on the verge of collapsing. The Chapter has scheduled a meeting in early March to drum up interest and volunteers, or completely to shut down. When the Chapter began a few years ago, I joined enthusiastically, but its meetings were poorly communicated. In real time, they were disorganized and confusing. After I dropped out, incoming communications stopped, and I forgot about NOW.

Until Local NOW has reached out for help. I will attend its meeting to learn more about the organization’s problems, and mostly, to find if possible leaders have clarity and real willingness to make better efforts. Throughout our nation’s current presidential cycle, both national parties have seemed a mess. Along with other citizens, I’ve become frustrated. Finally, I wonder, if in some way, by drawing from my education and professional background, I might help with reorganizing, and creating more clear messaging.

Dear Friends: Our national and local politics seriously need help and improving. Diana

Tuesday, January 14, 2020

The topic again is snow, because this season seems somewhat different. We’re steadily receiving snowfalls in series, but with little accumulation. Between falls, the stuff underfoot is a little icy and crunchy while the larger environment feels less cold than in previous years. Maybe there’s more ground-warmth, and enough, to hinder accumulation despite adequate snow.

I know, of course, to leave theories to the climate experts. So, I’ll speak to what’s easiest. Last evening’s environment, a light snowfall gave the atmosphere a bluish hue. The dimmer light recreated and made ordinary scenes newly appealing.

I worried that new snow predicted for all afternoon might be heavy, and so, kept my horses at home. The snows fell, all right, but lightly with bare accumulation. The horses would have been fine on pasture in this snow. I considered taking them over but felt uncomfortable about possible footing issues walking on the roadway.

So, here’s yesterday’s key to-do item, and one required quarterly, for which I feel sheer hatred. It’s about having to rush income tax payments to the Post Office, pronto, so they’re postmarked prior to the due date. This year, I felt extra angry thinking about the 1% wealthiest compared to my pitiful position among the 10% poorest. It’s feelings of sheer hatred toward an unbalanced and unfair process.

Then home to unwind, by hanging out with the dogs, feeding horses and goats, and spending a long while gazing at the Cascades. Studying the western sky gives me hopes of grasping a better sense of approaching weather.

Dear Friends: Being in and appreciating blue hues, beats dealing with feelings of blue. Diana

Monday, January 13, 2020

A few weeks ago Costco marked down the price of its ladies’ Pendelton Wool Coats and I purchased one, as a lark: “For some special occasion?” My closets are full of heavy winter jackets, but while preparing for work yesterday morning as a predicted snowstorm began, I needed outerwear that easily could be stuffed into my tiny workplace locker. I wore the new coat, got it into the locker, and above all, found it wonderfully warm and waterproof.

Later leaving Costco in a heavy wet variety of falling snow, and while the Jeep motor warmed-up, I stood in that snow using inadequate tools to scrape ice from windows. My coat helped me feel slightly ahead of the game. Even on arriving home and hopping from the Jeep in falling snow (to haul hay on a sled to the horses), that wool provided warmth aplenty, and above all, it shed moisture as efficiently as duck feathers.

This coat can “take it” and will become my go-to winter wrap. That might provide my peace of mind, finally, to create closet space. I have many jackets, little-used or for “just in case” situations, that would benefit a non-profit.

While mentioning “good things at Costco”, I discovered there a nice wine for $5.99. It’s a red blend, from Portugal–pleasant, drinkable, and above all affordable. Costco coworkers who already found this wine have affirmed my taste-impressions. The bottle is easy to spot, it has a very bright label, and of course, low-price tag.

I’m using very early morning hours to read a long-overlooked book from my shelves. It’s “Letters of a Woman Homesteader, by Elinore Pruitt Stewart. The letters, written between 1909 and 1914, describe some key events and people in her Wyoming life. Each letter has enough presence to stand alone as a complete story. In fact, the successful modern video series, “Heartland”, was based on her stories. Wanting to know more about EPS, I found a photo. She appears as friendly and open as her letters sound.

I don’t recall purchasing this book, but maybe it was in the early 2000’s, shortly after my move to Bend. I discovered an interest in rural western history and culture, but in those days, many other new interests crowded into my brain. This lovely work got set aside. I hope to finish reading it before having lunch this week with my literary friend, Julie. She might want to read it as another who enjoys well-written stories of, or by, frontier women. We both like learning about their hopes and how they managed to survive in early America’s open range environments. In those days, somehow and despite cultural constraints, women learned to cope with the daily routines and very-real hardships of their lives.

Dear Friends: Warm coat, good bottle of wine, a great book. It’s how I cope! Diana

Sunday, January 12 2020

Here’s a photo from yesterday’s early morning walk with my trio of horses. This street begins our quarter-mile trek toward a neighbor’s pasture. Yesterday, navigating through snow for the first time, happily the critters behaved.

I have a new policy of paying attention to Weather Channel predictions. This morning, it warns us to expect rain and snow. This afternoon, it adds high winds and gusts to 40 mph. Through the week, it expects this weather pattern to continue.

Winter is arriving quickly, and as in some years, perhaps furiously. Meanwhile, yesterday morning’s brief snow left a transforming layer that made this area seem a beautiful holiday card.

After released to pasture, the horses kicked aside snow. With noses plunged deeply into frozen grasses, they sought underlying and more palatable bites.

Leaving the horses to their quests but before starting home, I paused to absorb the quietly-magical surroundings. Like a trip backwards in time, a snow covering erases modernity. This snow transformed western artifacts, that our host collects and sets-around strategically, and made them seem more relevant.

I began walking home after waving a final goodbye to the horses.

I couldn’t resist photographing previously-captured scenes. This snow endowed the common with special qualities.

Highlighted details compelled from all sides of my pathway. I stopped to stare, absorb, and let imagination loose.

And simply, enjoyed.

As predicted, new snow is beginning to fall. Today, I’m scheduled to work and will keep the horses home. If there’s a large downfall, that open pasture hasn’t a shelter.

Dear Friends: Even with snow this mild winter feels less cold than usual. Diana

Saturday, January 11, 2020

Last evening’s Wolf Moon was a stunner. Stopped me in my tracks. I regained myself and rushed to get a zoom camera in my hands.

The above photo has a halloween-like complexity and compelling mood. The photo below, unembellished and powerful, is an example of my inability to capture the colors of surrounding sky that make this clear moon most-stunning. There’s little to compare with the sight of it seeming to float among moving clouds and through variations of light.

This morning’s western sky, cloudy from an overnight rain, currently is dropping light snow. Makes it impossible to see this moon settling beyond the Cascades, a compelling sight that equals the beauty of its early evening emergence in a clear sky.

I’m beginning to accept how accurately modern technology can forecast the weather. Yesterday, the Weather Channel indicated that we’d have rain starting at 1:00 p.m. The morning had a sunny sky, relatively clear, and I decided to walk the horses to my neighbor’s pasture. A wonderful pasture but it lacks a shelter. In case of more than a very light drizzle, I’d want the horses home pronto.

Here’s that innocuous sky as I walked home after leaving the horses to graze.

I went shopping for art supplies and then stopped in Costco, where of course, I chatted with co-workers and familiar customers. I forgot about the weather before emerging at 2:30 and finding myself in a heavy drizzle. The area was wet enough to assume that rain had begun when predicted.

I rushed home, tossed on rain-gear and hurried to the pasture. The horses were grazing, their coats wet, they totally were disinterested in my appearance. I had to walk the entire stretch of wet grass to adorn them with damp halters and lead ropes. We started home facing into the rain, with me keeping us in lockstep and hyper-alert to possible vehicles coming toward us.

No vehicles, until we neared my neighbor’s driveway, when I saw two behind us. The drivers kindly pausing and waiting for us to get out of the roadway. I saluted thankfully and quickly moved the horses into the driveway, whereupon the drivers, waving and smiling, passed by.

That was my first test with rain, and one I’ve anticipated. Not so bad, having to walk the three horses a quarter-mile and facing into a rain. Fortunately, yesterday’s rain was moderately-driving and not heavy, and taught some lessons. One was that the horses will walk calmly in it with me. Two, and most of all, I must pay close attention to weather predictions.

Dear Friends: Snowing, maybe soon clearing for another interesting walk. Diana

Friday, January 10, 2020

There’s not much sweeter than a little snow, covering shallow earthen flaws and freshening the air. Our snow fell early in the morning, under a setting-first Wolf Moon, and laid a very thin white over almost everything. Before most of it melted, I went outside and roamed, looking for cleverly-altered views and objects.

The snow transformed spots on my property, and also, alongside the road. I took an early walk and searched for the temporary enhancements. This photo is of rabbit brush that highlights a deer trail. The rabbit brush, plentiful this time of year, stand out among all other, and mostly dormant, plants.

This dusting of snow introduced me to a fresh sight. It highlighted a previously unnoticed lichen-covered rock in a general shape that I enjoy. (My brain has begun cataloguing this shape as a “castle rock”.) The early-morning combo of lichen-plus-snow enriched its natural appeal.

Finally, here’s a naked rock, without snow but what sorts of markings? On its surface are circles, permanent-looking, and seemingly, not of chalk nor recently scratched by human hands.

My little outing turned into another lesson, or reassurance, of how on overcast damp mornings, nature adjusts its natural art. Doing so creates new pinnacles of beauty and appeal.

Dear Friends: Rain will fall today, and I’ll be out in it with a camera. Diana