Katy Widger's Raindance Journal

You're Invited!

2011-08-29T14:05:00.002-06:00

September 11, 2001

2011-08-29T14:00:00.003-06:00

September 11, 2001

These images began to take form in my heart the week after September 11, 2001…..they are my prayers for peace. They are also the last art I ever created using my hand dyed fabric in the medium of the Art Quilt. From that point on, I chose to express myself with oil on canvas. I exhibit them here, now, in honor of the

Tenth Anniversary of 9/11.

The Columbine is symbolic of the Dove, and both represent the Holy Spirit, the Giver of the Peace of God, that mysterious Peace Which Passes All Understanding. I called these four fiber pieces,

“Espiritu de la Paloma”, The Spirit of the Dove.

The Hebrew word for “Shalom” appears on each piece. Like so many artists, I was expressing in the only way I knew how, my own personal grief, sorrow and disbelief in the unfolding tragedy.

These pieces have been exhibited in numerous venues throughout New Mexico and the United States, including an invitational venue that began at the University of Pennsylvania and traveled throughout Europe, ending in a castle in Germany.

"Voladores": flying; to fly

2011-08-29T13:53:00.003-06:00

Irish essayist Rober Lynd wrote, “In order to see birds it is necessary to become part of the silence.”

I remember vividly the first time I saw a Mountain Bluebird, flashing his cerulean feathers as he swooped down over the rooftop on our new home in Edgewood. Barren, brown dirt and not a tree one, I wondered if our new home site held any appeal at all to him. We landscaped, fenced and planted trees and bushes, including golden currents and other fruiting bushes that might provide nourishment to birds. A bluebird house went up, made just so, with the right sized hole to attract mountain bluebirds. A birdbath, to provide water, and open space surrounding the box, in the form of a small lawn, and the setting was complete. All we needed was a pair of nesting bluebirds!

They did not disappoint. In no time at all, a beautiful male bluebird had selected our box, offered it to his mate, who graciously accepted it, and they began the task of raising their family.

Throughout the years we have had the pleasure and privilege of housing many bluebird families, both Westerns and Mountain Bluebirds, whose ranges overlap in this area. As we have watched and learned, our amazement grew at their incredible aerial abilities, dedication to raising their families, acceptance of humans in their territory, and not least of all, their stunning beauty.

To hear and thrill to their pleasant warble of “Chee-do” as they fly overhead, keeping their family together, is to know that the spring time of your life has not yet passed.

Gracee

2011-08-17T12:20:00.004-06:00

Gail said she saw a picture of Gracee on the web at the Oakland SPCA site, and just knew she couldn't be sitting there for a month--she just had to get her out! Gail is one of those VSP's (Very Special People) who fosters and adopts unwanted dogs. Especially older dogs, even geriatric dogs, like Gracee. She was 17 when Gail took her home. She suffered from dry eye and systemic yeast. Gail nurtured and loved this little shih tzu for her two remaining years on this earth, and by the time she passed over that Rainbow Bridge earlier this summer at age 19, her skin was great and her eyes were, too. She had lost muscle mass and was very thin, so when Gail asked me to paint her, I plumped her up a bit and gave her eyes back that shine of youth.

When I asked Gail to describe Gracee to me so that I could get to know her a little bit, Gail told me that Gracee was just the sweetest of shih tzus, her little Angel. Feisty, determined. Loved to eat. Never got into a conflict with another dog in the household. Slept peacefully in her bed at bedtime. Gail said it took her awhile to get used to being held. Makes you wonder what her life had been like before. Was she owned her entire life before she came to be with Gail, all seventeen years, by someone who loved and cherished her, and then passed on? I hope so. That Gail was chosen to see her home is no surprise. Like I said, Gail is one of those VSP's who adopts old dogs....remember her, and Gracee, next time you make a donati0n to your local humane association.

Apso Repose

2011-08-13T15:32:00.004-06:00

Here's the final painting, finished, signed and photographed.
Just waiting for it to dry so I can spray it with some varnish and have it framed, in time for my upcoming show at Watermelon Gallery in Cedar Crest, NM on Saturday, September 3 from 4-8PM.

Photo Credit: Southwest by Miqui
This painting is available as a giclee print, size 8 x 10 or 16 x 20
or a 5 x 7 greeting card. See them at www.katywidger.com

Apso Repose in progress

2011-07-13T14:59:00.005-06:00

These are photos of the first three steps of a painting I am currently working on (July, 2011). Working title is “Apso Repose”. My idea comes from a desire to convey the ability of dogs to totally relax, let it all go, enjoy the moment, and luxuriate in something forbidden…master’s bed. My broader concept is to convey the dignity and worth of dogs as created beings deserving of respect and love.

When attempting a painting, especially one of animals in which I am dependent on photos, for the most part, my first step is usually to take hundreds of photos.

I glean those down to several potential ideas, and crop, cut and paste, size, and Photoshop them into a more workable format. It is rare to take a photo that ends up being exactly what I’m looking for all in itself, but it does happen.

Next, I grid the photo and a piece of drawing paper the exact size as the painting I intend to do. I draw the idea to near completion using either graphite or charcoal. (First picture, done in charcoal.) After preparing a support, either canvas or board, I transfer the basics of the drawing onto the support. Detail is unimportant, but placement is, especially as regards facial features. Just a general outline is all I need.

Next, I execute an under painting (second picture) in the same values as the drawing. Sometimes I use only one or two pigments, other times I use several colors, but always concentrate only on basic values.

This is a 16 x 20 board which was prepared with several coats of gesso and stained with yellow ochre. The underpainting was done with yellow ochre, burnt sienna and ultramarine blue, and white. These constitute three primaries, and give a range of values from very light to very dark, close to black.

The under painting is done very thinly, with much of the stain still showing through. When it is dry, the actual painting begins.

After the under painting dries, I begin the work of actually executing the painting, usually in several statements over a period of a week or two. The third picture shows the 1st statement of this painting. I added the colors quinacridone red, cadmium yellow and transparent red ochre to the original colors I chose for the under painting for my palette. The colors are mostly "flat", without much modeling, and more saturated, or bright than they will end up being in the final painting.

I'll let this dry and then continue on with another layer of paint, concentrating on the bedding and more detail on the dog. I've put in the dark background, and it may, or may not, get another coat of paint.

Hopefully, the next picture I post will be of the finished painting!

Easter Blessings

2011-04-19T09:36:00.004-06:00

The following prayer is thought by noted Biblical Scholars to have been written by Simon Peter, one of Jesus' apostles, sometime during the time following Jesus' ministry on Earth. Regardless of its origins, it is stunningly beautiful and very appropriate for Holy Week and Easter:

Nishmat Kol Chai Prayer: Breath of All Life Prayer: Breath (Nishmat) Comes from Soul (Neshama)

The soul of every living being shall bless Your Name, YHVH our God, the spirit of all flesh shall always glorify and exalt Your remembrance, our King. From this world to the World to Come, You are God, and other than You we have no king, redeemer, or Messiah. He who liberates, rescues and sustains, answers and is merciful in every time of distress and anguish, we have no king, helper or supporter but You!

God of the first and the last, God of all creatures, Master of all Generations, Who is extolled through a multitude of praises, Who guides His world with kindness and His creatures with mercy. YHVH is truth; He neither slumbers nor sleeps. He Who rouses the sleepers and awakens the slumberers. Who raises the dead and heals the sick, causes the blind to see and straightens the bent. Who makes the mute speak and reveals what is hidden. To You alone we give thanks!

Wishing everyone a Blessed Easter!

Zeus

2011-03-21T13:55:00.003-06:00

This big, handsome fellow was a delight to photograph and paint. What a sweetie! It's pretty obvious that he has a huge heart, and it's all devoted to his forever person, Lisa. Zeus had heart surgery when he was just a pup, and Lisa has been there for him every step of the way. From the stories Lisa has told me about Zeus, he's been there for her, too, like a true blue, big-hearted, totally devoted best friend should!
This painting was a gift to Lisa for her birthday, from the other man in her life, Ed.

Zeus
Oil on linen board, unframed
9 x 12
By commission: $265
Contact me if you'd like a painting of your best friend!

Bluebirds #2 and #3

2011-03-21T13:45:00.003-06:00

Just finished these two bluebirds from the same series. They are three different bluebirds, all males, who showed up at the bluebird box late this winter. Ken got several more great shots of both males and females checking out the box. I'm planning on a 16 x 20 and perhaps another, smaller one, with numerous bluebirds.

Just a few days ago, I noticed a pair of Westerns beginning to build a nest in the box. Might be a pair of the bluebirds who came this winter?

These three paintings will be framed in a simple ash set-in frame and will go to a gallery later on this spring. If you're interested, please contact me ASAP.

Bluebirds #1, #2 and #3
Oil on board, framed
Contact me if interested.

Bluebird in Sunlight

2011-01-28T11:57:00.004-07:00

I have loved bluebirds since we first moved out to the country, and built a bluebird box. Very soon after, a mated pair of Mountain Bluebirds, which are solid blue with no rusty red on their chests, like the Western Bluebirds have, occupied the box, built a nest and layed three beautiful blue eggs. They raised those babies and many others over the seasons, until one tragic day when I found Mr. Bluebird laying, dead, wings spread, on a rail of the fence near the nest box. We buried him in a silk handkerchief under the box, and never saw Mrs. Bluebird again.

On the property where we live now, we have bluebirds nesting every year, and on several occasions we have been present and witness to the first flights of the daring and exhorbitantly brave little baby bluebirds.

During the winter, flocks of Western Bluebirds often visit our property, looking for water and winter food. We try and accomodate them according to their needs. My husband got some incredible shots of a small flock of Westerns taking stock of one of the bluebird boxes recently.

I'm planning a series of paintings based on these photos, which all captured in stop-action photography, the amazing aerial expertise that Bluebirds possess. Here's the first one.

Bluebird No. 1

8" x 10"

Oil on board

Framed $240.00

Unframed $195.00

Ruffled Feathers

2011-01-23T15:06:00.003-07:00

This young male Great Horned Owl paid a visit to our hen house last November. He helped himself to an old, weak hen, but not before our rooster challenged him to a dual. It must have been quite the fight, because the rooster kept him cornered in the hen house until we came to tend them the next morning.
Turns out, the owl couldn't fly because he had lost two or three of his long flight feathers. He ended up with Wildlife Rescue and will be boarding with them until he molts and grows in some new feathers. You wouldn't think losing a couple of feathers would be considered a devastating injury, but to a predatory bird dependant on flying to make a living, it's considered a fatal injury. We hope to see him again sometime this year, and equally hope that he's lost his taste for chicken in the box!
11" x 14" oil on board

Eclipse Owl

2010-12-24T12:23:00.006-07:00

On the night of December 20/21, the night of the full lunar eclipse, Hunter made a rukus outside about 10 PM.
His urgent barking told us something, or someone, was too close to his yard for his liking, so we grabbed the flashlight and went out to investigate.
The sky was overcast with a thick layer of clouds, but the full moon cast her light with enough illumination to make out objects. Hunter kept jumping up on the coyote fence, just under the cottonwood tree. I looked up, and a large, dark object on the top of the tree caught my eye. The object moved, and the form of an owl appeared. She was comfortably perched on the very top branches of the tree. The full moon shown just behind her, it's full light softened by the thick clouds. We put the little dogs back in the house, and Ken got the camera. This was the first shot he took of her,
without flash. It's basically the view we had of her, a little out of focus, because there was just not enough light.

This shot was taken with the flash, and a zoom lense, it grabs all the detail in that instant. The flash and all our fuss didn't seem to faze her; she stayed put and watched us from her high perch.
Don't know how long she stayed. We finally went back inside and went to bed. Got up, later, about 1:30 AM to try and see the eclipse. She was gone, then, and the sky was too cloudy to make out any more than the darkened moon.

This is the third owl that has visited our place, the third we've seen and been able to take photos of, anyway. I have a feeling that she might be the mother of the young male owl that paid a visit to our chicken coop around Thanksgiving. She was a mature female Great Horned Owl, about 24" tall, and while they weigh only about 4 lbs (which is why she can so easily perch herself on those new growth branches at the very top of a 25 foot tall tree), they have a five foot wingspan and can hunt, kill and carry off prey weighing up to 15 lbs, which is why I am constantly on the alert and concerned for my littlest dog, who weighs only 11 lbs. From high perches, they dive down with wings folded, silently snatching their prey. Prey is usually killed instantly with their large, fierce talons. They also hunt by walking on the ground to capture small prey, even walking boldly into chicken coops, like the young male owl did in our chicken coop and another owl did earlier. Their prey list is almost endless: virtually anything they can kill, mammal, bird or reptile, even insects and road kill. Their only natural enemy, besides Man, is other Great Horned Owls. That explains why they show absolutely no fear in our presence. They are at the top of the food chain in most areas. They range throughout North America from the northern treeline, south to Central and South America from dense forests, deserts and plains to city parks. More and more, they have begun inhabiting cities and suburbs, preying on cats and small dogs. Do you have an owl in your backyard?

For those curious about the fate of the young male owl we rescued after he was injured while raiding our hen house, he is doing just fine. During his altercation with our rooster, he apparently lost several of his long flight feathers, which made it impossible for him to fly. He would have died, probably at the beaks of the ravens, had we not rescued him, but surely from starvation. Once he has molted and re-grown his flights, he will be released back into his native habitat. In the meantime, he's well cared for in a large flight with two other rescued owls, dining on mice and other species-appropriate meals.

Alex Vom Haus Chavez

2010-11-19T11:37:00.003-07:00

His call name is "Max". His immediate ancestors hail from Germany, where the German Shepherd Dog originated and is still bred best. He lives on a ranch in the stunning southwestern region of NM, near the town of Magdalena, just west of Socorro. His kingdom consists of vast acreage to oversee, beautiful vistas to admire, and a pack of seven, including sons and daughters from his mate, Catey.
He is Hunter's father, and it's quite obvious that my wonderful young "acorn" didn't fall far from this strong and magnificent "tree".
I painted Max on commission from his owners, Bill and Sherry, who obviously adore this handsome fellow.
It's on their gate that I first saw the sign, along with the image of a German Shepherd Dog, warning potential trespassers: "I can get to the gate in 3 seconds: Can you?" Having met Max and spent some time with him, I can attest to the fact that, yes, he can, and no, you don't want to challenge him to a race to the gate! No better companion, protector and watch dog could ever be found! Max, you sweetheart, thanks so much for the fantastic genes you passed on to my Hunter!
Oil on linen covered board
16 x 20
By Commission
www.katywidger.com

Morning Owl

2010-11-14T14:03:00.002-07:00

Today is the 4th anniversary of the death of Mychal Angelo, my beautiful Standard Poodle. It also marks the first anniversary of his death that I have felt "whole" again. There is still, indeed, a big hole in my heart, but healing has taken place this past year and I am, along with my pack of four wonderful dogs, in a "good place", now. Since Mychal has left us, owls have become a part of our life, in many ways, offering omens, strange visitations and encounters both physical and in the realm of dreams.

This morning, when Ken went out to do the chores, he discovered a young male owl in the hen house. He had killed and partially consumed a hen (ironically, one that was not doing well and Ken had planned on dispatching today or tomorrow). The two roosters, Rudy and Ralph, had him cornered and kept him from leaving the hen house after his dinner. Ken ushered him out, expecting that he'd immediately fly away. But, instead, he ran over to the fence and climbed up to this post. Ken came in and got me and the camera. After a bit, he tried to fly away, but couldn't. His right wing was injured, probably in the altercation with the roosters in the hen house. Ravens began circling, and within what seemed like mere seconds, the sky was full of them, diving on him, full of murderous intent. Ken ran and got a dog carrier and some welding gloves, but we were amazed as the owl almost walked into the carrier without much fuss. It seemed he preferred the safety of the carrier to the impending rendevous with the ravens.

A few phone calls later, we drove him into town to meet a rep from the Wildlife Rescue group. He'll get some attention today, and when he's ready, they'll bring him back out here to release.

We don't begrudge him his dinner; the little chicken was the weakest of our flock and hen-pecked to the point her life was pretty miserable. As Nature intended, that is the hen the owl took. And besides, it's up to us to provide protection for our chickens; we failed to close the chicken door; he merely walked in and ordered up his "chicken in the box" dinner!

We're both very relieved that he wasn't seriously hurt and hope that he'll be back in his home territory soon.

Mychal calls to me once again: life goes on, all is as is should be, God's providence assures soft landings in hard places.

My Body Guard

2010-09-17T11:59:00.005-06:00

A young dog in training. He is focused, alert, intense, powerful, loyal and devoted and gentle as a lamb with his little pack mates and other critters. A sign on the gate bears the outline of a German Shepherd Dog and says, "I can make it to the gate in 3 seconds; can you?" Makes me sleep a lot better a night these days!

16" x 20" oil on gallery wrapped canvas

Inquiries welcome at

www.katywidger.com

Backporch Color Fun!

2010-07-22T11:49:00.006-06:00

These are little 5 x 7's painted yesterday on the back porch. It was a glorious summer day, and I couldn't stand to be indoors, so I took some paints and a small paint box out on the shady porch, along with a few sweet little photos of the Apsos.

So, here are Zeke, as a puppy, Wyatt in the sunshine, and Miss Sadie Wonder relaxed and comfy on the big dog bed.

My very simple palette included purple, phalo green, yellow ochre and a bit of crinacridone magenta, and white, of course.

Oil on linen or canvas covered board

5" x 7"

$75 each, while supplies last!

Contact me if interested.

I'd be delighted to paint a colorful backporch painting of your favorite pooch (or other critter)!

www.katywidger.com

Taz and Cosmo

2010-06-15T18:58:00.003-06:00

I was tempted to call this little painting "Cosmo's Third Eye", as he sits here in his lion pose, meditating next to his best friend, Taz, who has only one eye. He lost the other in an accident involving a car, but hasn't seemed to mind so much, now that he and Cosmo have found their forever home with Chris. Profound serenity visits Cosmo, and Taz basks in the glow, sharing his own inner frivolity with his BFF.

5x7 oil on raw silk covered board.

Painted as a commission: $100.

I'm delighted to paint an everlasting memory of your BFF.

Details on my website:

www.katywidger.com

Sadie Blue Jeans

2010-06-07T12:30:00.003-06:00

It's hard to describe that feeling of mutual adoration that so many of us who love dogs almost take for granted. It's a symbiotic relationship of mutual neediness. Those who love and respect dogs as fellow created beings know exactly what I mean, and I need no words to describe it. Sadly, for those whom dogs are just another soulless species of animal life there are not enough words to convey the emotion. It can only be experienced . This little dog, lying at my feet, looks up at me with love and adoration, and I return the gaze. We sigh, content with the unspoken satisfaction that only trust in the faithfulness of love can bring.

Oil on linen covered board 8" x 10"

Inquiries invited: katy@katywidger.com

Dog portraits on commission http://www.katywidger.com/

Apso Gaze

2010-05-24T13:47:00.004-06:00

Zeke spends as much time as we allow, sitting on a couple of pillows at the end of the couch, looking out the window. He takes note of every car and truck and school bus that drives down his road. Every raven and hawk that flys by gets a bark, as does every person walking their dog or riding a bike. But he saves his most energetic and ferocious barking for the bunny who lives under the tree just to the right of his window. Sometimes he just can't contain himself, and off he races, out his Apso door, around the corner of the house to the little screened-in "window" my husband cut into the fence for them. He tells that bunny "what for", then races back into the house to see if he listened!
.
Panchen, that Champ of a dog now buried in Susan's garden, here sits on Susan's porch, enjoying the Northern California sunlight on a proper spring morning. How delicious must the warm sun feel to a blind dog! What does he "see" as he sits there? Can he feel the daffodils blooming? What does the morning sun smell like? Rest easy, Champ, the daffodils are blooming again.

Both paintings are oil on deep gallery wrapped canvas,
5" x 5" square.
Dog portraits by commission
www.katywidger.com

Flowers for Camille

2010-05-11T17:22:00.005-06:00

She was somewhat of a diva and she certainly had issues, but I adored her.
I think the feeling was eventually mutual. I was, ultimately, the only human she trusted.
I’ve read somewhere that you will always remember the day you brought your dog home, and the day they left you.
She wasn’t a product of a puppy mill, but she certainly didn’t receive anything close to proper socialization prior to coming to live with us. I should have known better. It took me the better part of an hour to get her to come to me, sitting in the dirt in a corner of the outdoor enclosure where she and her siblings were kept. She was the only one of the litter who, eventually, would dare come close.
She made a charming little “roo-roo” sound when she was uncertain about something, and I heard it then for the first time from the cutest little white ball of fluff I’d ever seen. Sort of a plaintive half-growl, half question, meaning she wanted to, but she was a little reticent, a little afraid. Usually, she would make up her mind to push ahead, enter the unknown, take a chance. And there, in the dirt, she came to me and put her nose in my hand. She was willing to take a chance on me.
We enjoyed almost twelve years together. She was beautiful, elegant, intelligent and devoted, but she approached life at full throttle and therefore encountered more than her share of accidents and mishaps. So much so that, as she grew older, my intuition told me that she would not cross over that rainbow bridge quietly. And so it was. I was able to hold her in my arms and tell her what a wonderful friend she had been, and to ask her to meet me there, one day.
I’m certain that when my time comes, my little Camille will be there to greet me with her funny “roo-roo, come on over, mom, we’ve all been waiting for you!”

16 x 20 Oil on canvas
www.katywidger.com
Dog Portraits in Oil

Hunter at Seven Months

2010-04-13T14:18:00.003-06:00

Finally! Got a painting done of this wonderful dog.
He's only seven and a half months old, but just look at his expression! He is focused, calm, gentle, kind, intelligent, devoted and oh! so beautiful! Can you just imagine how magnificent he will be in his maturity! Can't wait to paint him then, again, and again and again!

I need a name for this one! Any suggestions?

11" x 14" oil on canvas
Dog Portraits in Oil
www.katywidger.com

Peace Lily

2010-03-31T10:39:00.002-06:00

"May the Peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:7

Wishing you a Blessed Easter, filled with the Peace of God.

St. Patrick's Day Color Study

2010-03-18T13:03:00.004-06:00

I recently took a Color Class. I'm pretty well versed in Itten color theory and have a lot of experience creating color with a limited palette, but this Michael Wilcox School of Color class taught by locally well-known landscape painter, David Schwindt, was a course in practical color mixing. It cemented what I already knew and opened up more possibilities for creative color mixing using the Color Bias Wheel, using six primaries, instead of the usual three-primary color wheel we all learned about in school. I've probably told you more than you wanted to know....but artists are always interested in color, especially how to create the exact color in a short period of time without wasting a lot of expensive paint.

This is a color study of a beautiful cabbage that came with my corned beef. It was delicious!

I re-created the subtle hues and tints using only a violet red (quinacridone red), green-yellow (lemon yellow) and blue-green (cerulean blue), plus white. The color range available was amazing. The vibrant yellows aren't showing up so well in the photo - I'll try and get a better shot.

Wooly

2010-01-07T19:03:00.003-07:00

Wooly is a Malti-Poo, soft, silky and curly. The Maltese in him loves to cuddle next to his dad at night in their favorite chair, and watch the world go by in his special place on the back window shelf of his people's Buick. The Poodle half takes his job as Official Greeter of the mailman, UPS or FedEx guy very seriously. When he hears their trucks, he flys up to the back of the couch and announces their presence from the big picture window, then races furiously out the kitchen Wooly-door to make sure they don't go sneakin' around the back.

His other favorite activities are going for walks, and sneaking articles of clothing from his mom, just to luxuriate in her scent, he loves her that much! He's also quite fond of the other ladies in his life, daughters and granddaughters of his parents, and never forgets a friend. Sweet little Imp!

Wooly 10" x 8" oil on linen board

$160.00 unframed SOLD

www.katywidger.com

Mati

2009-12-30T10:45:00.003-07:00

Don't let the grey muzzle fool you, this girl is still very much young at heart. You can see her playful spirit in her eyes, in her countenance and posture.
Mati, short for Matilda, is named for the character in the Roald Dahl short story. She was the one left out, from whom not much was expected. That sort of explains Mati's start in life, as well. She was the little shy one, last of her litter, the unchosen. But someone wanted her, very much. And saw the potential in those beautiful eyes. She's now ten years into her life with her special people, who very much love and adore this young lady.
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I finished this painting just in time for Christmas.
It's an 8 x 10 oil on linen-covered board. $170.00.
If you're interested in a painting of your beloved four legged friend, contact me at www.katywidger.com and together we'll immortalize your special pal, too.

Hunter

2009-12-01T15:22:00.006-07:00

His coming was a surprise, but not unexpected. I woke up one morning with plans for the weekend that did not include a trip to the mountains of Magdelena to look at a very special German Shepherd Dog. But there has been this giant hole in my restless heart for three years now that just will not be filled. In fact, it feels as if it has grown even larger. Three incredible Lhasa Apsos, whom I love and adore, could not fill it. I didn't ask them to try. They are their own sweet selves and occupy another niche in my canine heart entirely.

I have wanted this dog my whole life. Ever since I read Lad, a Dog by Alfred Terhune, The Call of the Wild by Jack London as a child and more recently, Adam's Task by Vicki Hearne, A Good Dog by Jon Katz. And certainly The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, by David Wroblewski, probably one of the greatest dog stories ever written. I can only pray that I am worthy of this dog, this Hunter, this noble beast.

He has integrated into the pack effortlessly. Sadie accepts him as her charge, and he accepts her as Alpha and his superior. Zeke, not having ever seen a 32 lb puppy before, protected me from him for a couple of hours, until he was convinced that he posed no threat. Wyatt was unsure and a little fearful, but his timidity is giving way to acceptance and curiosity. He and Zeke are already friends, and Zeke does a great job not only of playing and rough-housing with him, but acting the part of "Uncle". He's been with us for 72 hours now. Just give us a week, and this pack will be one cohesive machine. The Apsos have their Mastiff. I have almond eyes attached to a Strongheart of devotion.

Samson and Delilah

2009-11-24T16:03:00.004-07:00

Samson and Delilah live the pampered lives of Persian cats well-kept by their person. And it's pretty obvious, upon meeting them, as to whom is in charge. What's that they say, "Dogs have masters, but cats have staff."
They didn't exactly pose for this portrait; I had to sort of follow them around and catch them at odd moments, laying on my belly with camera in hand, waiting for the right pose, the perfect "look".
I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know these two aristocats as they "talked" to me through the paint. When their eyes "speak" to me, I know I'm close to capturing them on the canvas.

Samson and Delilah
16 x 20 oil on gallery-wrapped canvas
$420.00 SOLD
You can commission one of your special friend at
katywidger.com

Innocence and Confidences

2009-11-23T12:33:00.009-07:00

The title comes from an old Simon and Garfunkel song, which is fitting considering the song was popular about the time the photo was taken. The little girl is now a woman and the lovely dog is, well, gone to heaven where all good dogs go.

I have to admit that I pretty much manufactured the background in the painting. It's much more romantic than the actual background in the old photo, and adds to the idea I was going for here.

My inspiration is the devotion little girls feel for their dogs, and the unconditional love they receive in return. Dogs love their little girls, literally, unto death, and think nothing of giving themselves completely to the care and protection of their charges. Nothing in the whole wide world would willingly separate them. That sort of innocent love exists only for the pure of heart, such as between a little girl and her dog.

"Innocence and Confidences"

16x20

Oil on Gallery Wrapped Canvas

If interested in purchase, please contact me at katywidger.com

Three Lhasa Apsos

2009-05-23T11:30:00.005-06:00

These are my three Lhasa Apsos, Wyatt, Zeke and Sadie.

Wyatt is Sadie's son, and Zeke's first cousin. Sadie is Zeke's aunt. They are family, and they are my family, my kids.

In these three little 12x12 paintings, I tried to capture their individuality within the same format. Each has a favorite toy, a favorite spot on the bed, a way of relating to me that is different from the others.

Wyatt is the youngest, always ready to have a good time. I'd easily know him if I were blind, by his reach (he's the tallest of the three), by the jingle of his tags as he jauntily trots through the house, and by his sudden and accurate leaps onto my lap when least expected. Sadie seems to think that he's still a "goober" in need of her discipline. I can't argue that. He still won't come when called and occasionally makes a mad dash out the gate and has to be rounded up, oblivious to any dangers lurking. Wyatt loves all his toys, but the green frog is a particular favorite (notice the missing eye).

The Zeke has a presence all his own. He is a gentleman and very dignified, except when he's not, and that usually involves play time, or just general Apso Happiness expressed in odd posturings on the couch, butt in the air, grunts and growls of pleasure emanating from his face buried in the cushions. Zeke is the Guardian and Overseer of our little Raindance Farm. As much as I would like to think, and say, otherwise, it is his decision as to whom is allowed in the front door. I'm not sure what to do about that, except to accept his judgment and apologize profusely for my inability to control his vocalizations....The Zeke you see growling and scratching his displeasure at your presence is not the same one who cuddles up next to my heart at night on the bed.

Tiny Sadie, on the other hand, is quiet, unobtrusive and relies on her cuteness to win over anyone not instantly smitten by her charm. She is, however, pretty much in charge of the boys, especially Wyatt. Well, to be honest, she is pretty much in charge of all of us. And she rarely has to do more than ask, with charm and aplomb, to receive anything her little heart desires. Spoiled? Of course she is. But rarely does she abuse the privileges she receives or the authority she commands. My little Sadie Wonder is queen of my heart!

These three paintings are going to a show at the Rio Rancho County Club for June, July and August.

Easter Lily

2009-04-15T10:31:00.001-06:00

He is risen! He is risen, indeed!

Happy Easter!

8" x 10" oil on board

Available

contact me at

katy@katywidger.com

Boston

2009-03-28T12:38:00.002-06:00

This sweet, gentle soul was rescued from a reservation in New Mexico.
His new guardians adopted him at about eight weeks, but he already had lots of “issues.” Mostly, afraid of people and things, but totally bonded to his mom. So much so, in fact that she calls him her Velcro shadow and takes him to work with her often, where he occupies the space beneath her desk. He likes to cuddle on the couch and play with his big brother, Pike. And he has a treasured collection of “woobies”—his stuffed animals. I’m dying for a good photo of him with all his woobies in his mouth—what a great painting!

8" x 10"

Oil on Linen Board

SOLD

Buds

2009-02-28T17:16:00.002-07:00

A girl and her dog in the park on a warm spring day. Do we remember those sun sprinkled days when we're older and life is no longer simple and easy and warm?
This dog gave all he had to those who loved him truly, and this girl grew up to love deeply the other wonderful canines who came into her life.
A fleeting moment in our life, a day in the park. Yet it defines so much of who we are. And it will yet warm our hearts if we but ask it to.

"Buds"
14" x 14"
Oil on wrapped canvas.

Katy is 55, O My!

2009-02-17T15:28:00.003-07:00

Fifty-five is not a lot, of money, or hours to wait,
but in years we think and yearn of passions we didn’t get to sate.

A mystery it arrived so soon; it should have been a long, long trip.
Events years ago, remembered still, though some names begin to slip.

And even with some aches and pains, not welcomed nor desired,
the simple things still make you grin, the child is unexpired!

It’s your laughter at dogs so silly; a palette of fresh oil paint.
A bird that says “I love you”; it’s not the things that ain’t!

They say it’s just a state of mind; thinking so makes one old;
it’s not the years, but the miles; at least that’s what we’re told.

Still, you look “mahvelous”, as Billy says, so much younger than your years.
Please see your reflection in my eyes of love, not in the cruel mirrors.

So don’t lament the fifty-five, enjoy it and have your kicks.
Because in three-hundred-sixty-five more days, you’ll be fifty six!

My love, forever and ever,
Ken

Kaiser

2009-02-08T11:45:00.002-07:00

Hidden behind this sweet, caring face, nearly constant wagging tail and occasional smile, is an attitude. This dog understands perseverance and pain.
Kaiser has been plagued almost his whole eleven years by physical problems leading to discomforts that would have most humans in a wheel chair, or worse. Since he was adopted from the pound as a puppy by his mom, Karen, he’s been beset with arthritis in both knees that makes running difficult, and tumors that sometimes make it difficult for him to roll over or lay on his back. He’s endured numerous surgeries to fix his knees and remove various tumors, and throughout it all he has remained calm and happy with his life. Maybe that’s because his favorite things to do are lying in the sun, sniffing the breeze and long, slow walks with his people. Hard to beat the simple pleasures!
Kaiser is a King of a Dog for many reasons, but his mom is especially close to him because of an extreme event in her life in which Kaiser responded by demonstrating to her just what dogs do best. He was able to comfort her in that way that dogs do, without words, just by being there, his grand spirit empathizing with her pain, absorbing her negative emotions and returning to her his unconditional love until the ordeal passed. She has returned the favor in her devotion and care of his physical needs. Is there any love that can surpass that of a woman and her dog?

8" x 10" oil on wrapped canvas

$160.00 SOLD

Dog Portraits by Commission

www.katywidger.com

Poncho

2009-01-31T11:04:00.002-07:00

Here's a portrait of a happy dog! Life is good for Poncho. He's a hugable, sweet natured clown who just likes to have a good time. When he's out on the ranch with his "Aunt" Susan, he has found true pleasure in partying with all the other dogs and goats, playing, barking to his big heart's content and just tearing off across a field to see what's out there. Oh! The joy of being allowed to be a dog! Sniffing, barking, running, playing!
Those languid brown eyes of his are the window to an empathetic soul that loves deeply and truly. Susan says Poncho will give you his paw and look deeply into your eyes as he "talks" to you. Those of us who know that dogs really do talk to us, both verbally and with their hearts, understand and are in awe of dogs like Poncho. We have a lot to learn from him. He lives his life completely in the present, one happy moment at a time, and gives joyful thanks for every blessing! Lead us on, Poncho!
8" x 10" oil on wrapped canvas
$160.00 SOLD
Dog Portraits in Oil at
http://www.katywidger.com/

Gabriel the Guardian

2008-12-31T10:17:00.002-07:00

Gabe lives on South Mountain Dairy, too, where he is particularly loved and respected by all the Girls there on the dairy. He's Butter's "boss" and fully employed as the official Guardian of the Goats. You just can't help but love this big guy.

He's a noble beast. He greets visitors with the manner and bearing of a distinguished gentlemen receiving callers to the manor. At the same time, you should know, he's checking you out. That Great Pyrennes-sized head contains a brain to match. He has a job to do and he takes it very seriously. Neither man nor beast will harm his goats while Gabriel is on call, and that's 24/7/365. The human goat-keepers say they've never had a coyote problem since Gabe came, and they live right in the heart of coyote country. Oh, Gabriel, you great big angel of a dog! What an honor to capture your spirit on canvas! Thank you for the privilege.

Gabriel the Guardian

8" x 10"

Oil on wrapped Canvas

$160.00 SOLD

Dog Portraits by Commission

www.katywidger.com

Butterscotch

2008-12-17T10:52:00.004-07:00

This handsome boy lives on South Mountain Dairy Goat Farm in central New Mexico.
He's just a youngster, but he's got a serious job to do, and he does it very well.
Butter is a rescue dog. Marge brought him home from the Farmer's Market where she'd been selling her dairy products one Saturday not long ago.
From all indications, he's a most excellent dog and much loved. I can personally attest to the fact that he's quite charming, well-behaved and very alert to everything that goes on in and around the farm. Every dog needs a job, and Butter has found not only his vocation, but his forever home, as well.
"Butterscotch"
8" x 10" oil on canvas
$160.00 unframed SOLD
www.katywidger.com

Pikey

2008-11-26T11:58:00.003-07:00

Nikki says Pike was named after the William Holden character in the movie Wild Bunch, not so much because he reminded them of the character, but because it's one of Don's favorite movies. Still, Pike is 89 pounds of pure muscle with a huge bark and a tough guy exterior. But that's all wrapped around a goofball who only tires of fetching his ball long enough to curl up like a fawn, folding his legs against his body and sleeping the way only the truly happy and pure of heart can melt away into sweet dreams.

Just so happened I was reading Marley & Me in anticipation of the movie coming out soon as I was painting Pike and his slobbery tennis ball. Nikki says of the book/movie previews, "that's our Pikey."

8" x 10" Oil on linen covered board

$160.00 unframed (SOLD)

Dog Portraits by commission at www.katywidger.com

Nikki's Pike

2008-11-24T13:09:00.003-07:00

I finished this working drawing of a blonde lab named Pike this Monday morning. I'll start on the underpainting this afternoon, and hopefully finish it by Wednesday.
Pike belongs to Nikki and Don in Colorado, and I'll be painting him along with his pack mates Mati and Boston.
Pike is about eight years old, and it's pretty obvious that he loves to play with his ball.
I got a chance to "examine" a blonde lab up close in the Doggie Grocery Store yesterday afternnoon, to get a close look at that noble profile, the shape of her skull , that egg-shape roundness at the back of her head and the set of her eyes. Characteristics shared by most blonde labs and very useful for me to observe and remember as I paint Pike's portrait. Her nose, too, had the same pink tone that Pike's does. Beautiful, good-natured affectionate dogs who genuinely love both their people and goofing around with tennis balls!

Beauty Grace Joy!

2008-11-08T09:54:00.004-07:00

How is it that the fresh, innocent face of a child never fails to bring a smile! There's a certain joy that wells up, a delight unlike any other, when that new little person smiles back at us!

Eyes so full of curious intent and ageless wisdom we dare not look away, less we miss a pearl.

Oh! The Grace of a God who would create such a being and give her to us for a time, to gaze on her beauty and bask in the glow of her radiance, as if the Spirit of God who dwells within, overflows and fills the room with His radiant light!

How do we answer such a gift? With love!

For He first loved us, and sent His Son as such a babe on a cold winter night so long ago.

Beauty Grace Joy!
12" x 9"

Oil on Canvas

Leader of the Pack

2008-10-22T12:11:00.002-06:00

I just finished this wet, juicy painting of our Sadie Wonder yesterday afternoon, and have been trying to photograph it under various light configurations, to eliminate the reflective shine off the wet, thick paint, all morning. I’ve come to the conclusion that it can’t be done. I’ll try again when it’s dry. It was painted with a very limited palette of Cadmium Yellow, Cadmium Red, Alizarin Red, Ultramarine Blue, Phalo Green and White. This translates as a warm yellow, a warm red, cool red, cool blue and blue green, which is a “warm” color in most circumstances. I’ve always used a limited palette, but this is even more restrictive, and therefore, freeing! Proof positive that, indeed, less is more!
I hope the rich colors in the painting comes through on your screen. There was no tube black used in this painting, and all the colors, being mixed from the primary colors listed above, have a beautiful harmony, from the brights to the rich neutrals.

Sadie’s the leader of our Pack of Three Apsos, which now includes her son, Whyatt.
I’ll get a painting done of Whyatt soon, so you can see what a delightful fellow he is, too.
But tiny Sadie, who weighs all of 11 pounds, is definitely the Alpha Female of this pack.
She keeps order according to her own set of canine laws. No one argues with her, either.
Truth be told, the humans of the household are under her command, too. Other than asking her to sit for treats, she pretty much orders us around, too. We do her bidding: opening doors, going for “pokes”, playing “tricks for treats” and even, once, taking them for a car ride, just because Sadie said so. She’s a benevolent leader, however. Generous with kisses and cuddles.
She’s just about the sweetest little dog I’ve ever known, and just look at those eyes! A Champion and mother of Champions, she’s Top Dog around here.

If you want to see a funny little video of our Apsos in Action, go to http://www.zeketheapso.us/ and click on The Zeke and Sadie Show on the left side of the front page. Then, click on "Apsos help make "their" bed" on the little videos. It'll give you a good idea of how apsos can take over your life, in a wonderful way!

As always, Dog Portraits by Commission at www.katywidger.com

This 8 x 10 oil on archival linen board would sell for $160, if it were for sale, which it isn't.

Happy to paint one of your beloved, though!

The Value of Color

2008-10-05T14:54:00.003-06:00

I recently took a workshop with a well-known regional landscape painter named David Schwindt. The workshop was held at the Starlight Ranch Artist Retreat and B & B which has wonderful accommodations and spectacular views. The colors this time of year are just delicious!

This particular workshop dealt with strategies for painting the landscape indoors, and seven kinds of color contrasts, two vital elements in successful landscape painting, especially for those of us who don’t have many opportunities to go out in the field and do a lot of painting.
David has spent much of his life studying color and his paintings “are about light and how various kinds of light – morning, evening, high noon and twilight –affect the way we perceive an object and especially our natural environment.”

One of the first exercises I chose to do was to translate a value study into color. Successful paintings always have a basic value structure underlying the color, like the “bones” or skeleton underlying the “flesh” of the color and detail. As artists, we must learn to see colors as values, light to dark, and translate those colors into the right values, or the painting won't "read" correctly. I’ve often heard it said, “Color gets the credit but value does the work.”

I painted this value study from a small (and not very good) photo I took several years ago of the Taos Gorge. The next day, I “translated” the value study into a color study. It was a good exercise. Both paintings are 5" x 7" oil on canvas board.

Griz

2008-10-03T12:21:00.003-06:00

Some kind soul found him out in the rain and took him to the humane association as a puppy.
Somehow he received a diagnosis of “aggressive male” and the people who fell in love with the beautiful little puppy sitting quietly at the front of his kennel, while all the other dogs were barking like crazy, took him home, anyway.
He was a one-man dog, playful in a reserved sort of way, and not much interested in toys, other dogs or most people. Wolf-life in appearance and manners, he was in his element camping with his people on the high bluffs of Northern New Mexico.
Griz is now in his golden years, and recently met with a terrible accident while on one last camping trip. He’s at home recovering now, receiving all the love and attention he deserves and needs to complete his journey with dignity and respect for the many years of loyalty and friendship he’s so willingly given.
May God bless your remaining days, Old Griz.

Oil on linen-covered board.

8" x 10"

Ada Grace

2008-09-15T15:11:00.002-06:00

Ada: A Hebrew name meaning “Beauty.”
Grace: The unmerited gift of love and favor bestowed by God on mankind. A sense of what is right and proper. Beauty, charm, good will, mercy. A musical note, not necessary to the melody, added only for ornamentation…..

This little Extraordinary Miracle came into our lives quite unexpectedly. She is my husband’s first grandchild. I claim her as granddaughter, also. I’ve known her mother for twenty-eight years, since she was five years old. She was unexpected because we weren’t really expecting any grandchildren. But, here she is, bright eyes and beautiful mouth, tiny nose and long fingers, perfect little being with the awesome power to bring you to your knees in total love and devotion with one glance!

She is indeed beautiful, no doubt about that! And the ornamentation of her existence has bestowed renewed love and favor to the melody of our lives. Reconciliation, thy name is Ada Grace! We praise and thank Almighty God for the blessing you are to us, and ask His daily blessing on your life. May God bless you and keep you, may He make His face shine on you and guide you ever onward towards the Future and the Hope that He has set out for you!
We love you with all our hearts, Sweet Ada Grace!

Wild Wild West

2008-08-25T14:41:00.007-06:00

That’s me, sitting on Abrams, a Longhorn Steer about five years old.
He weighs almost a ton! What a sweetheart he was, too! I rubbed his face, scratched his chin, fed him some “steer candy”, wiped my now very slobbery hand on my jeans, and climbed aboard!
Clay, his owner, remarked, “You’ve ridden before, haven’t you.” Yes, but that was a long time ago, and never a Longhorn Steer!
Two cowboys had brought their riding steers to the Harvest Festival at Wild Life West in Edgewood, New Mexico this past weekend. I was there participating in an art show, amidst all the tractor pulls, wild bird shows, Native American drum performances and roasted sweet corn. It was a blast! (Sold some paintings, too!)

We listened to some humorous Cowboy Poetry delivered straight from the Longhorn’s back, that included references to the famous West Texas, New Mexico and Colorado cattleman, Charlie Goodnight, who helped blaze the famous Goodnight/Loving Cattle Trail with his buddy, Oliver Loving. These were the same kind of Longhorns that Charlie and his cowboys drove along the trail. When I told them that Charlie was my Great Great Great Uncle, that his sister, Mary Jane Goodnight, was my Great Great Great Grandmother, they invited me over to visit with Abrams for a while. In exchange for getting some pictures of Abrams, and being allowed to sit astride the biggest four-legged ruminant I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing, I told them the story of my GGG Grandmother, Mary Jane, and how she came to be the dis-owned sister of the famous Charlie Goodnight.

My GGGGrandaddy, Hiram Daugherty, married the widow Charlotte Goodnight and became stepfather to her kids, Charlie and his older sister, Mary Jane. They lived near Houston, and Hiram was a trader who spent long weeks away from home. On one of these trips, he took Mary Jane with him. She was seventeen. When they returned from the trip, Mary Jane was pregnant.

Charlotte kicked them both out, along with the three children she and Hiram had together. Mary Jane, Hiram and the three little kids made their way across Texas in a covered wagon and finally ended up in the Sacramento Mountains of Southeastern New Mexico. There, they homesteaded in a beautiful valley in Hay Canyon. They raised thirteen children all together: the three they brought with them from Texas that were Hiram’s children with Charlotte, and ten of their own.

Their homestead cabin was built strong and sure alongside a creek in the canyon, and I have seen it several times, still standing as a monument to perseverance and determination. They worked their whole lives to redeem themselves and raise up righteous children. But Mary Jane never again saw or spoke to either her brother or her mother for the rest of her life, such was the price of her sin. She lived a long life, outliving her husband by decades, is buried near Cloudcroft in a sun-dappled aspen grove, next to Hiram. Her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren all remembered her fondly as a good and loving mother and faithful wife. Such is the good news of redemption.

In Charlie’s official biography, he never mentions that he has a sister, and I’ll bet no one knew to ask. When he was asked why his mother, Charlotte, divorced Hiram Daugherty, Charlie said, “For cause.”

An Artist's Journey

2008-08-16T13:50:00.009-06:00

I was invited to give a lecture and trunk show about my journey and development as a quilt artist, last week at the Harvey House Museum in Belen, New Mexico.

At one time, in the early part of the last century, Belen was a major railroad center, a "hub" city for the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad. The Harvey House Restaurants, built by Fred Harvey were elegant eating establishments that lined the north-south route and featured first class dining, an extensive menu and fine linen, crystal and silver. And of course, the renowned Harvey Girls, young women of impeccible reputations who were trained in the fine art of serving fine food to the railroad customers. They lived upstairs in the Harvey Houses, in dorm style rooms, were closely chaperoned and developed reputations for excellent service and high standards.
Belen has lovingly preserved their beautiful Harvey House and made it into an historic museum with exhibits changing monthly.

The rooms of the Harvey House Museum were filled with quilts of all colors and descriptions. They were all made by charitable groups to be given away at hospitals, nursing homes, police stations, anywhere some comfort was needed. It was a privilege to be surrounded by such graciousness and talent!

So, here I am, at the beginning of my lecture to a room full of quilt lovers, men and women both. I showed a dozen quilts that I chose from those remaining in my possession dating back to the very beginnings of my quilt art journey, in 1988 that I felt represented my development as an artist and showcased what I learned along the way.

My early work was all done in squares with the emphasis on color, like the first quilt shown, called "Four Corners" made in 1988. I learned that "Color, pure or muted, is its own magic" and "gradations attract, enfold and please."

"Purple Flower Woman", in the next pic, was made in 1992. By now I was doing much more than dyeing solid colors. I was experimenting with many different kinds of "surface design" techniques. I learned that "Squares and triangles give strength and stability. Patterns fascinate, involve and deceive. Repetitions are to forms what beats are to music. The obvious is enchanted by the hidden. Soft edges invite caress and touch."

"Sand Tracks", made in 2000, won the best of show at Fiber Celebrated International 2001. It is made mostly from silks and fine cottons and is based on the idea of the force of wind in the southwest. It is collaged and contains actual polished stone beads sewn to the surface.

The final piece pictured here is "Elements" made in 2001. It began as a playful exercise in composition using leftover pieces from previous work. After I had made a couple of blocks, I got an idea for a complete quilt, finished up the blocks and dyed the background fabric in cotton sateen in a shibori-style gradation representing the transition from water to earth to sky.

I made my last quilts in 2003. Since that time, I have been painting in oils!

You can see the rest of the quilts along with their artist's statements on my website at

http://www.katywidger.com/ Just click on the Paintings in Hand Dyed Fabric link to see more!

Field Stone Wall

2008-08-12T16:04:00.001-06:00

Here’s the final painting. I spent the morning sketching the wildflowers I thought I might put in the painting. As you can see, the flowers are quite tiny in the actual painting, but it helps to know what shapes they assume in real life, even if you’re painting them in miniature, almost as “suggestions” rather than as flower portraits.
The sky came from another photo of Ireland, and I was interested mostly in the light and movement of color from bright blue to graying, with a hint of stormy weather.
I tried to capture the idea of the sun shining from the upper right, down across the mid-section of the wall, onto the daisies. And, I have to admit, this was a bit of a challenge, trying to get the rocks to look like a loosely-stacked field stone wall, with all their odd shapes and the deep shadows with the sky peeping through here and there.
Maybe, perhaps, someday I’ll go to Ireland and see an actual field stone wall for myself!

Field Stone Wall: First Statement

2008-08-08T11:22:00.002-06:00

Here, we’ve got the stone wall roughed in using three values of the beautiful, mauve grey mixture of Ultramarine and Terra Rosa. Looking at a blow-up of the photo tells me that the stone has lots of color! Pale mauves, rosy tones and deep blues. That will be fun to paint! Also, the sky peaks through the stones in many places, which will make it "sparkle" with light and integrate the sky, wall and foreground.

I’ve decided that the light will be coming from the upper right hand side, and shine down, across the mid-section of the wall, and highlight the flowers that will be growing there, in that dark green spot, towards the left hand center at the base of the wall. Those will be white daisies. There will be other flowers, scarlet, purple, blue and yellow, along the wall, as well. The sky will be lighter towards the right hand corner, a more cerulean blue. It will move to a darker, greyer sky on the left side. I’m using Cerulean Blue and Ultramarine for the sky, and adding some Cadmium yellow for the ground. It’s mostly a thin, transparent wash, with just a tiny bit of white added to the Cerulean Blue on the right hand side, where the sky will be lighter.

This is the first “statement”; an underpainting that will serve as the first layer to this small, 5" x 7" painting. It is applied thinly and mostly in a transparent wash of pure hues. Almost all of it will be painted over in the next “statement”, subduing most of the brightest colors, but allowing them to “shine” through in some areas . Right now, I’m going to let this dry and come back again on Monday morning and finish it, hopefully, that day.

Field Stone Wall

2008-08-08T11:09:00.002-06:00

Kathy and a good friend took a trip back across the pond to Ireland in 1972. A trip of a lifetime, back to her homeland, right out of college. What grand fun they had, driving on the “wrong” side of the road, touring the Irish countryside, kissing the Blarney Stone, soaking up the shamrock fields, the blue Irish sky and the enchanting culture of her ancestors!
She snapped dozens of photos on her little Brownie camera, and was especially fond of all the field stone walls that lined country land and highway. Just a long pile of rocks, mostly, cleared from adjoining fields, bounding land and keeping sheep from wandering too far.
She’s asked me to paint one for her, from one of those little Brownie pics from ’72.
Here’s the first step: Palette set up for this first “statement” is simple: Just some Ultramarine Blue and Terra Rosa, mixed together with a bit of Titanium White to make a beautiful grey. We’ll use that to start in on the rock wall. I’m going to “move” the wall and angle it to give the painting a more dynamic interest. The photo shows a pale, washed-out sky, which means it was probably an overcast day with diffused sunlight. Since there’s no strong directional sense to the sunlight falling on the wall, it's kind of bouncing around all over the place, we’ll “manufacture” one.

I’ve never been to Ireland, but I’ve got some great magazines to look at (Ireland of the Welcomes) and the internet is a wealth of wonderful, well-lit photos of Ireland with true colors, to give me a sense of the light and colors there. I’m using my digital frame for all the reference photos I’m using, which back lights the digital images, and gives a more true-to-life picture than a printed photo would.

Loola Mae

2008-07-29T16:27:00.002-06:00

What’s in a name? Doesn’t she just look like a “Loola Mae”? It fits her sweet nature, her delicate frame, her trusting eyes and smiling face. I think she’s perfectly named. I understand that she came into the lives of Jane and Kevin about a year after the loss of their first Sheltie, Jessie. It was time, Jane said. Kevin capitulated, then instantly fell head over heels! Wouldn’t you? Look at that face! Oh, Loola Mae! I’d love to bury my face in your beautiful mane and give you a hug and a kiss, in person, not just through my thoughts as I paint your image!
This painting is a birthday present for Jane, from her loving and thoughtful sister, Susan.
Shhhh…don’t tell her. It’s a surprise!

Zeke's Black & White Baby Toy

2008-07-09T16:27:00.001-06:00

By the end of the day, here’s what I had. I’m fairly pleased…it captures the idea I was going for.
Susan pegged it when she told me that in the initial sketch “ Zeke's posture in that picture reminds me of a guy bellied up to the bar....one foot up on the railing, his right elbow on the bar, his shot glass cradled in his right hand....asking the bartender to "fill 'er up, pardner"....
That pretty much describes Zeke: The party doesn’t start until Zeke gets there!

He’s had that B & W toy since before we got him. I scented it all up with my smell, then mailed it to him (to Debbie, actually) in a zip loc to preserve the scent. Wanted him to know what he was getting into, before we went and picked him up! Worked like a charm – he LOVES that baby toy!
When he was just a few months old, we were sitting out on the back porch, talking about how smart dogs are and how well they understand what we’re saying (and thinking!). To demonstrate, I said, rather casually, “ Hey, Zeke, go get your black and white baby toy and bring it here.”
I’d never even called it a “black and white baby toy” before, much less ever asked him to go and get anything! I had no expectations. But, I’ll be damned if he didn’t immediately trot off through the dog door, into the house, and emerged a very short time later with his black and white baby toy! We were stunned!

This toy is very rarely out of his sight. He carries it with him from room to room and he always knows where it is. Sometimes he buries it in the garden for safekeeping, but mostly, it resides somewhere nearby The Zeke.

How to Paint an Apso, Day 2 Part 2

2008-07-09T16:24:00.001-06:00

I’ll have to do this in several installments, to show the progression.

I used some linseed oil as my mixing medium. It’s the same oil that is in the paints.
It took me about 45 minutes to mix up the hues that I wanted to use, then I began to lay in another layer of thin paint, in the same values as the underpainting. I’ve worked on most of the painting, except for the eyes, nose, his St. Francis medal and back ground.

Here’s where I stopped for some lunch.

How to Paint an Apso, Day 2

2008-07-09T16:22:00.001-06:00

Here’s a picture of the corner of my studio, lights on and ready to get started for the day.
While I’m picking out some music, Zeke asks to be put up onto his “spot”, there, on the chair.
That’s where he stays virtually the whole time I’m painting. Good thing I stand when I paint.
Sadie lays down below, in her little studio bed.

I laid out my palette with Winsor & Newton Burnt Umber, Burnt Sienna, Ultramarine Blue, Cadmium Yellow, a dab of Cadmium Red, and Titanium White. I always try and use as limited a palette as I can get away with. It’s amazing how many colors you can mix with just a few primaries. Rembrandt usually used a very limited palette of three or four colors, plus white.
Look what he did with it! I think it keeps the colors balanced and harmonious.

Zeke’s coat is a wonderful mixture of silver and gold with charcoal tips. Those colors are mixed throughout his hair, and there are very few places where one color dominates. Depending on the angle of the light, he has either a golden or a silvery shine. That makes it a little challenging to capture the right colors. Luckily, he’s laying right here on my stool, so I can match colors directly to the area I’m trying to paint. He’s a pretty willing model.

How to Paint an Apso, Day 1

2008-07-09T09:20:00.001-06:00

Here’s a painting in progress, from start to finish.
Today, I drew an outline, or contour sketch of Zeke holding onto his favorite toy from a digital photo I took several weeks ago. I put the photo into a digital frame and use that to refer to as I’m drawing, and later, painting.

I prefer to draw whatever I’m going to paint, first. Sometimes I do a completed drawing, “suitable for framing”, other times I do a sketch like you see here, with just enough information to give me what I’m looking for to begin the painting. In this case, I need to know exactly where his eyes are in relationship to his nose (don’t Apso’s have the cutest little anchor-shaped noses!).
And where the darkest darks and lightest lights are going to be.

I draw first because I like to draw, I want to work out the composition on paper before I commit to oil (more easily corrected), and because it acquaints me intimately with my subject. I know it very well before I ever squeeze out the paint.

My support, in this case, is an 8 x 10 masonite board about ¼ inch thick, covered with raw linen. I glue the linen onto the masonite with archival glue then gesso over it, once it’s dry, several times.

Just before I started this painting, I mixed some Terra Rosa and Raw Sienna together on my glass palette, mixed in some odorless turpentine, and rubbed the transparent mixture onto the linen-covered board with a soft rag.

I traced the drawing onto tracing paper using a white pencil. Then I turned it over and rubbed dark charcoal over all the lines, centered it over the now-dry stained linen board, and traced over the white lines with a red pencil. I don’t trace the whole drawing, just the general outline and the critical details. And I don’t always do this, but when it’s critical to get the eyes and face just right, I do. Saves a lot of time and frustration!

Then, I used a mixture of Burnt Umber and Ultramarine, mixed with turp to “draw” over the lines. I switched to a larger brush and began sketching in the darkest darks, adding more turp to the mixture to lighten the values. I looks sort of like a watercolor stain at this point; no opaque white is used at all, just turp to thin it down. More background shows through where I intend the painting to be lighter. No paint is applied where I want it to be the lightest. And I didn’t bother to put anything on the background, yet, either.

I could just continue painting over it right now, mixing and using thicker paints in the colors that I want the painting to end up being. When I’m doing a little 5 x 7 painting, or have more time in the day, that’s what I do. But for now, we’ll call it quits, let this thin underpainting wash dry overnight, and mix up the palette fresh tomorrow.

Panchen's Journey to the Other Side

2008-07-07T15:50:00.003-06:00

Farethee well, Travelin' Man!

With tears of sadness at your departure,

With tears of joy that now you see and romp in the light of the Son,

I bid you Godspeed!

I pray Mychal met you with welcoming barks accompanied by all the Gompa Apsos who have gone before!

One day, I'll see your face and your bright, shining eyes will see mine, as well, there, on

The Other Side!

Champ in the Sunlight

2008-07-02T12:17:00.003-06:00

We get up every morning with certain expectations of how the day might go…plans, responsibilities, wants and wishes, dreams and daily chores meet us face to face over the bathroom sink.

The sun shines on our life most days, even without our realizing or acknowledging it.
In spite of uncertain IRA’s and plunging 401k’s and rising gas prices, pestilence and persecution by fire, flood and drought, we soldier on because that’s what we do.

We get up in the morning expecting the day to be, more or less, like the day preceding it.
Then the phone rings, and a toothache turns into a fatal tumor. Life changes, like the song says, in a New York minute. Everything we knew in the morning evaporates by the afternoon, and we have to re-group, start over, make new plans.

Champ here, lies in the sunshine, soaking up the life-giving rays of the morning, living his life one sunbeam at a time. Whether or not he knows, or cares, that his mortal life in this spiritual realm is short, is quite probably irrelevant to him right now. He knows the joy of the morning sun on his face, and I’ll bet he’s happier right now than we’ll ever be…..

Mychal, on The Other Side

2008-06-24T16:21:00.003-06:00

This was a very difficult painting to finish. But not because of the subject. I’ve been waiting for the right time to begin a painting of Mychal, a time when my heart and my emotions would allow me to do him justice with paint and brush. This seemed like the right time.

It was difficult because I had to stop several times and attend to other matters. I lost my focus. The inertia necessary to complete a painting with the original intent intact was interrupted.
Not only did my paints dry on my palette and on the painting, but the emotional energy ran aground. In painting, continuity is everything. I struggled to finish it, knowing that this resolution was different from what it would have been had I not been interrupted.

Most artists’ desire to paint arises from a place deep inside their soul. A vision rises within that the artist is impelled to express: capturing the illusive light of morning, shadows cast by aspens on snow, sunshine shimmering on a piece of fruit, the inner glow of a newly opened flower.

We are expressing our personal vision in a language without words, hoping that the viewer can “read” our thoughts, understand our emotion, perceive our attachment to the subject matter. And, having made that connection with the viewer, we have communicated on the deepest level.

I paint my life. My dearest, most precious possessions are laid out for you to see in the hues and calligraphy of my art. To see this expression, this painting, is to gather a glimpse of how I perceive the world around me. This is how I communicate my innermost thoughts with the universe. This is prayer, from the deepest, most unutterable depths of my soul. I cannot voice it in any other way. God has given me this voice, and as I put my paint on the canvas, I speak to Him and invite you to listen in.

Mychal, who now resides on The Other Side, hears, too, and whispers back to me, “Amen.”

Sixteen

2008-06-17T15:39:00.001-06:00

There’s probably a name for it in our word lexicon by now. You know, when you Google something and someone’s name whom you know shows up on the list. It happened to me the other day. I was Googling a subject, and way down the list a name caught my eye. Someone from my very distant past. Turns out he’s an authority on the particular subject I was investigating.

He was the boy next door, and my first love. He had raven black hair shaved up the back, with long bangs, parted on the side hanging loosely over his forehead, shadowing green eyes with golden specks. He rode a black horse that tossed his mane the way he tossed his hair to one side. We literally grew up together, but he paid little, if any, attention to me, as far as I knew, anyway, until he came home for Christmas vacation from his first semester at college. I had, of course, been aware of his presence for quite some time. But I was a freshman when he was a senior: a vast chasm of separation in high school. I was a petite, pony-tailed country girl, and quite “under-developed” compared to most of the girls my age. His affections were then captured, I took note, by those lipstick-wearing B-cups with the teased hair and tight capris that treated me like air. And once he was off to college, where an over-abundance of those types roamed unencumbered by curfews and liberated by the Summer of Love, I turned my affections back to Elvis, who was no less attainable and every bit as gorgeous.

I was, then, quite surprised by his attention that December. It seemed as if he had come home and found a new girl living next door. Perhaps he had. I was by then two months shy of my 16th birthday and not lacking for dates. Long, straight hair was in, and hip-hugger pants with bell-bottoms were simply made for my trim little figure, shaped by good genes and years of ballet.

His two younger brothers were the same ages as my two younger brothers and I was accustomed to hanging out with them occasionally, having no sister to offer a more feminine diversion. But previously it had been playing soft ball in the empty sand lot on the corner, or roaming the orchards and climbing trees, having green apple fights. Now that he was home, and could drive, he took us all to the bowling alley and the drive in. Somehow or other, I ended up sitting next to him in the station wagon, with the four little brothers occupying the other seats with their usual pre-pubescent rowdiness, oblivious to the chemistry igniting in the front seat.

The first time he kissed me was in the darkened garage, after the boys had exited the car. I lingered. He put his arm around me, and moved in close. The smell of his aftershave rolled over me like a warm fog and I closed my eyes as hot, moist lips carried the combustible spark that ignited an emotion in me that I was not to experience again for more than a decade. For years afterward, I bought Aqua Velva Redwood aftershave, just so I could smell him again, and feel that burning rise up in my soul.

Our romance continued when he returned to college in the New Year, and included a healthy stash of love letters scented both ways. On the margin of one he proposed, prematurely, it turns out. “When do you want to get married?” And I, being only 16 and not nearly old enough to consider it seriously, still, treasured the idea of it while dreading the thought that it had come too soon and therefore couldn’t last.

Spring break brought the inevitable. I cried for days, red-eyed and unable to speak to anyone with a shattered heart that left me voiceless, as well. We moved away soon after that, and I never saw him again.

I resisted the momentary urge to hit the “Contact” button on his web page. To send him a “blast from the past” email. He thoroughly broke my heart once, long ago. He was, as he said when he broke up with me, merely infatuated, not truly in love. Sara McLaughlin sings, “I will remember you, will you remember me?” Surely, he is a grandfather by now. A lifetime has passed between us. Perhaps he does remember, occasionally. But I prefer to keep my memory to myself, just in case he doesn’t.

Why Are We Doing This, Anyway Part 2

2008-06-16T15:33:00.002-06:00

In what ways are you and your family cutting back in order to afford gasoline and the rising cost of everything these days?

We started limiting our trips into town (Albuquerque) back when gas was $2.00 a gallon and it cost us about $5 a trip. Now that it’s $4.00, and everything else is going up, in some cases rather dramatically, we have pared down to the bare necessities, in order to stay within our budget. I don’t know about your income, but when people say they’re living on a “fixed income”, and usually mean a retirement income, I can relate. My husband gets a paycheck twice a month, and it’s pretty much “fixed”, too. It hasn’t gone up in years. We live on a budget, as do most folks I know. When expenses go up, something has to go down in order to balance the equation. Credit cards usually fill in the gaps.

Our income has remained the same, but our middle class lifestyle seems to be deteriorating somewhat, in some respects. At least when viewed superficially, depending on what you consider deterioration, as opposed to, say, a re-alignment of priorities, a re-ordering of expectations, a re-learning of what’s truly important in life.

We pretty much don’t do “vacations” anymore. Haven’t for quite some time. We decided we’d rather spend the money on fixing up our place. So, we do short, day trips, instead. Saves a bundle and there’s lots to see within a day’s drive around here. Besides, we have too many critters to go anyplace. Even the best critter sitters won’t milk a goat.

We gave up spending the big bucks on big ticket items like the Ballet and Musicals and Concerts.
Do I miss getting all gussied up, going out to a sushi dinner and then taking in a Broadway Show down at Popejoy Hall in Albuquerque once in a while. Yup. But those evenings used to cost what our entire gas budget for the month is, now. Something’s gotta give.

Life is changing. Not only did we make a decision to re-order our lives a while back, but the economy has apparently decided that we’re on the right track, and is pushing us right along now.

To save water and electricity, we quit using our dishwasher about two years ago. It’s still there, and still used, as a rather expensive, but convenient dish drain. We saved enough water every month to water our blackberry patch four times!

We tore out our “zero clearance” fake fireplace with gas burning logs, and put in a Lopi Woodstove. Bought a Husqvarna chainsaw, got a permit to cut wood and saved ourselves a bundle on natural gas last winter. Fresh, crisp fall air, great exercise, wonderful picnics, the smell of fresh-cut cedar! The gas company now owes us money!

I have used only cold water to wash my clothes for several years now. But this year, we went a step farther. See photo above. Hot, dry air blows most of the time around here, and it’s free.
My clothes dry on the line now in about half the time it used to take to dry them using costly, and getting costlier, natural gas. There’s a real art to hanging clothes on a line. It’s almost like a prayer, or a meditation. If you do it right, as you take them down they almost fold themselves into a neat pile there in your laundry basket, ready to be put away, all sunshine fresh and snowy white!

Prices for that watery stuff in plastic jugs that passes for milk in the grocery store has now far surpassed what it costs us to produce our very own pure, nutritious, enzyme-rich un-pasteurized goat milk, right here at home. We drink it ice-cold while the life energy still remains in it, just minutes out of the goat. The ultimate health-food drink! Added bonus is the kefir, chevre, cheddar, feta, mozzarella and ice cream! Have you seen what those pricey gourmet food stores charge for hand-crafted goat cheese! And we eat it on our toast for breakfast and feed it to the Apsos.

Our chickens lay more eggs than we can consume in a day, and they do it with joy, élan, enthusiasm and humor. And we know what’s in those eggs, too. Not the pallid, insipid imitations that those pitiful battery-raised hens produce in their short, brutal lives that end up in polystyrene egg cartons down at the local grocery. These are the real deal! Beautiful brown eggs that resist the first crack on the cast iron skillet, then willingly divide into two equal parts to reveal the yellow eye of yolk and firm clear white that will soon be chuckling like the hen who laid it. All this for the price of half a dozen of those so-called free range eggs in the health food section at the local Smith’s.

And then we have our organic garden which produces all the fresh produce we can eat during the summer and a freezer full of good eats that lasts until the garden is in the ground the next year. It’s a lot of work, watering, weeding, tending, putting up fresh picked veggies. It’s a lot of fun picking your dinner every evening, like I just did. Fresh spinach, arugula and baby romaine salad! No need to worry about salmonella or e-coli in our garden goodies. I know exactly where it came from, how it was watered and fertilized, and who picked and prepared it!

I am not a lady of leisure by any measure. My hands are scarred, my nails are short and my cuticles are ragged. My neck is brown and my skin is dry and sun damaged. But my heart pounds steadily and easily in my chest, my blood pressure is enviable and my cholesterol is perfect. I haven’t even had a cold in years, much less the flu or the omnipresent sinus infections I used to get, prior to goats and garden. Our life style is our health insurance and hedge against inflation. And now, hanging my freshly washed clothes out on the line, I can even be thankful for the wind!

Why Are We Doing This, Anyway?

2008-06-12T11:51:00.002-06:00

I have to remind myself on days like today. The wind continues its assault with gusts reaching 60 MPH. Dust hazes the cloudless sky. Everything is parched Why in the world are we struggling to grow food, milk goats, raise chickens, gather eggs, when everything, except the raw goat milk, is available just a car trip into town? Are we crazy for “doing it ourselves” when we could arguably spend about the same amount, or in some cases, even less, to buy the produce and protein we consume? Why are we devoting so much time and energy to doing for ourselves what can be bought?
This is not an ideal environment for growing food or raising farm animals. Granted, just a few decades ago this very land on which I now reside was a dry-land pinto bean farm. This whole valley used to be the “Pinto Bean Growing Capital of the World” and proud of it! The farmers out here simply plowed their fields, planted their beans and waited for the early rains to sprout them and get them up, and the later rains to grow them to harvest.

That all dried up beginning in the fifties. It was over and done by the seventies. Drought came and changed everything. The farmers tried to hang on. They dug deep, expensive irrigation wells and pumped alkaline water out of the ground to water crops that preferred the soft, nitrogen rich water from the sky. Ranchers raised fewer and fewer head of beef cattle on larger and larger acreages. Gradually, they sold out, went bankrupt, moved away. Just a handful of the “old timers” are left here, now. The Town of Edgewood incorporated around one of the last ranching and farming families in this area, when they refused to be a part of the new town.
And then, ironically, they sold out to Wal-Mart! Yes, Wal-Mart. In a surreal turn of events, the very rancher who decried the loss of his lifestyle and bowed his neck in protest by refusing to sign on and become a part of the new age of subdivided ranches turned into new towns, sold out to the highest bidder, after all. Where cattle grazed and antelope roamed now sits a Wal-Mart Super Center; paved paradise turned into a parking lot.

Still, this area of arid New Mexico is accustomed to receiving about 12 inches of moisture each year. We usually get about six inches of rain in the spring and during the late summer monsoons, and enough snow in the winter to account for the other six inches of moisture.
It gets cold, but rarely dips below zero. The wind blows in the spring, as it does in most western states, sometimes furiously. It’s just a fact of life.

But this spring feels different. The weather is crazy all over the country. The whole world seems in turmoil. Earthquakes, volcanoes, typhoons are ravaging parts of the world to which I have never given much thought, prior to seeing the suffering faces on the news and in the paper.
And right here in the good ole safe USA, tornadoes are putting peoples lives through the blender of destruction, floods are ruining homes and crops and lives and drought is sucking the life out of the rest of us. The Earth is growling her warning. Her lips are curled in a defensive snarl.
She is rumbling her displeasure and spitting her anger.

I look to the sky daily and wonder if this could be the day when HE returns to claim His own and His Earth. No man knows the date or time. All things foretold have been fulfilled. The last sign is simply His coming, which He has told us will be sudden, without warning, apart from the signs of the Earth. And so I wonder, daily, nightly, when the wind howls and the sky is angry and the nightly news reports our Mother’s latest tirade and tantrum against her spoiled and uncaring children. Is today the day? And if so, that answers my question.

50 MPH Winds

2008-06-11T13:57:00.001-06:00

This has been one of the nastiest springs in recent memory. Late spring freezes killed all the blossoms on the fruit trees and damaged the blackberry canes where the sap was beginning to rise. Erratic temperatures have caused delayed growth in almost everything. There simply were no spring rains at all. The wind has not quit blowing since March. Fifty mile an hour winds have been blowing all week long. They awaken us in the night with their fierce thrashing and continue on mid-day, raising huge dust clouds and desiccating everything in their path. Were most of our garden not covered with cold frames, it, too, would be gone with the wind. Nothing can, or wants, to stand up to it. The trees are whipped around so violently that I don’t know how it is that their limbs remain intact. And, in fact, the leaves are whipped off them like dust off a shaken rug. Snap! And the yard is full of fresh, green leaves and small branches that are supposed to be soaking up sunshine. The sound of it is frightening, and discouraging. It beats against the house and roars through the trees. They say the strong, hot, dry wind zaps all the negative ions and makes us feel irritable. At the very least!

I am weary of it all. My heart longs for a gentle spring with wildflowers blooming across the green meadow, freshened with rains that nourish but don’t overwhelm with their goodness. Soft, cool breezes that waft away the perspiration. Warm, but not hot. Just enough humidity to soothe, but not oppress. Don’t want much, do I? I’d settle, quite happily, for less wind.

However, I am extremely thankful that we have not had a tornado here. There have been no golf ball-sized hail, or even large marble-sized hail. It has not flooded here, and probably never will. We have not had any earthquakes, although this area is in an active fault zone. Fire has not visited its wrath on us, either. We just have this unrelenting, brutal wind. I am praying that God will enable me to be thankful for it, too.

Goats Just Wanna Have Fun!

2008-04-26T15:17:00.002-06:00

Lily is three weeks old now. She has almost quadrupled in weight, from about 5 pounds to almost 20 pounds. She's been disbudded, meaning that we've burned off the tiny horn buds when they first appeared. Just one of those things that has to be done, and the sooner the better. Lily was eight days old and scarely missed a beat. I hope we did a thorough job.

She's getting all of Claire's milk that she cares to have, being the only kid. Only problem is that she's only nursing from one side of the udder. So Claire's a little lopsided most of the time. We've been milking out the other side every morning, getting Claire used to the idea and easing the pressure. If Lily's twin brother had lived, things would have been a little more equitable and we'd soon be putting the kids up at night, milking Claire from both sides of her udder each morning, and letting the kids have the rest for the next 14 hours. We'd also be selling them both, but as it is, with just one little baby goat, well, we'll just keep her. Not that we need another goat. More like, she needs her herd, being an only kid.

Plans change according to circumstances, and we're still milking Maggie every morning, just to insure a milk supply. It's been her job for several years now and she seems to enjoy being the lead goat. Still, we'll probably be drying her off in a few weeks, and hoping that Claire willingly assumes her new title, and that Maggie will enjoy her time off.

Our fragile lives can change in an instant, for good or ill. Plans change daily, sometimes. What we thought we were going to do, we're not, and now we're going to do something different, only we're not quite sure what it is, just yet. But God knows. He knows the end from the beginning.

I have a tendancy to fret about things future, near and far. I worry about little things and things I have no control over. I wish I didn't and I try not to, but still, the worries come in the dark hours of a sleepless night.

I had a dream the other night. In it, I was riding on a motorcycle behind my husband (when we met, he rode a Kawasawki and I spent many hours holding on for dear love). In the dream, we came up over a hill on a rainy night, and the other side was one steep, muddy, slick mess, with a sheer wall of rock on one side and a long drop over a cliff on the other side. I took one look and knew we would never make it, and that I had no power whatsoever to do anything about it, other than to hold on. So, I did just that. I put my head down, behind my husband's back, closed my eyes, and prayed as we slip-slided down the muddy mountain road. Then, I heard my husband's voice saying, "Open your eyes, and look." Somehow, we had made it down the mountain without going over the edge. We were on a tiny ledge at the bottom of the steep muddy road, with mere inches insuring our safety. But we had made it and we were together, in one piece! And all I did was close my eyes and trust.

That's all God asks of us, to just close our eyes and trust in Him to take us through, all the way. He knows the end from the beginning, and He has promised us that if we are His own, it will be all right in the end. He has promised. And I believe Him. Lord, help me trust.

Lily Joy

2008-04-08T14:36:00.003-06:00

Joy comes in the morning! And what a difference 24 hours makes!
Claire finally went into labor Saturday afternoon, April 5.
Her water broke about 10PM, and the first "bubble" of amniotic fluid from the first baby's sack appeared about an hour later. But, no delivery, in spite of pushing against hard labor.
So, novice goat mid-wives that we are, we decided to "go in" and take a look. A nose, a foot, and an upside-down foot belonging to a back leg. Not good. We called in the expert, the official goat mid-wife, who runs a local dairy, at 2AM. God bless her! Even if there were a vet around who knew something about goats, there is no way they'd come out at 2AM! No way. But Donna didn't even hesitate when we woke her from a sound sleep in the middle of the night. She just got in her car and came, and saved the life of our goats.
Just as she arrived, I managed to finally get the stillborn baby boy out. Donna said I'd done the right thing, the only thing I could have done under the circumstances.
Claire layed down, exhausted, and we all waited for labor to begin again.
An hour later, Donna washed up and went in, again, and pulled out another breach baby. This time, Lily Joy emerged, wet and breathing, around 4AM. We got a quick nap at 6AM after the newborn got some good colostrum in her, and started the new day ninety minutes later.
Her she is, none the worse for the trauma of her birth, later that sunny Sunday morning.
Claire is an outstanding mom and Lily Joy, named for my niece, whose 13th birthday was April 4, promises to be just as much a pickle as her mom! Just look at that face and tell me this "only kid" isn't going to be a handful!

St. Claire

2008-04-04T14:08:00.003-06:00

Miss Claire is VERY pregnant today. Yesterday was her due date, and today, she still shows no signs of imminent labor. I'm waiting for the emergence of the white mucous plug to signal the opening of her womb, for her to paw the ground, arch her back, do something other than eat and chew cud!
Yesterday, I received this from a friend, after I told her of my anxiousness in assisting Claire at her delivery:

"...Clare of Assisi was in real life a sister to Saint Francis, patron saint of animals. The following seems so appropriate for your day. I am also thinking of the Navajo Clan of Many Goats! So I send you prayers and blessings for a safe delivery with many little goats! You will do beautifully, bringing calm and quiet love as a doula!"

"Service, in Clare's view, is a calling to be reflections of God for one another. Within each of us, Clare saw clearly, is a seed that awaits birth. We are encouraged to endure life's labor pangs and bring forth life."

Funny thing about her name, Claire: We had girl goat names all picked out when we went to purchase her two years ago. Donna led me to the pen with about a dozen little baby does and said, "your choice". I picked the first one I could catch - who could tell - they all looked alike!
We went into the dairy barn and she was filling out papers. I was holding the baby goat in my arms.
"What are you going to name her?" she asked, ready to write it down.
"Her name is Claire," I said, and the words just came out of my mouth without a thought.

Ken said, "That's not what we talked about." And in truth the name had not even entered my mind, until I heard myself saying it.

I said, "But that's her name." And so her registered name is, " Raindance Saint Claire."

I had no idea at the time that Clare was St. Francis' sister! But what an appropriate name for a dairy goat, full of the milk of life, so willing to serve mankind. God bless you in your motherhood, St. Claire!

Sassy Lassie

2008-04-03T11:43:00.003-06:00

A Sassy Lassie

I will not come

I will not go
I will not wear
That friggin’ bow!

I will not beg
I will not heel
I will not fetch
Oh please, get real!

I will not hurry
I will not rush
I will not stop
For comb or brush,

I will not smile
I will not stay
I will not please
In any way,

Treat!
Did you say Treat??
I am your best puppy
Obedient and Sweet…
Now, where’s that Treat???

reprinted with permission from the author

April is National Poetry Month

Raji

2008-03-26T16:31:00.001-06:00

These sweet little trusting brown eyes beckoned me to know her. To understand her Spirit and comprehend how she came to travel the vast distance between Tibet and California, passing through other countries and many hands over long years in a dog’s life. What did she encounter along the way. And who. What kindnesses and injustices came her way.
Her life has had its turns along the path. Hills and valleys, shadow and light.
Rarely does a dog get to choose her ultimate person, her pack, her home territory. But, serendipitously, Raji did. And she chose well! Blessings came to both Raji and her forever person, who opened up her heart , there in the garden of her forever home.

Oil on linen board

5" x 7"

$70.00 SOLD

Dog Portraits in Oil

www.katywidger.com

Raji, Gompa Apso, Endangered Species Along with Tibet

2008-03-25T11:17:00.002-06:00

My cherished Lhasa Apso

my culture’s watchdog,

you are dead by Chinese poison dog food

imported, trade imposed stirring the air with political pollutions

javelins spearing Tibet

to teãr a tear from fallen monks

shot in cultural genocide
Compassionate ones,

we are the only true clique for justice
A gamble on diplomacy is failing like a kidney on Chinese heparin
A dialysis is to bet Tibet in a card game with Artists of War and propaganda an atheistic clique with bullets
For the tourists’ amusement let them people the autonomous puppet government with the buffoonery of their claque
But let us be the only true clique left alone for our prayers and daily walk
Why would the world be a lap dog—- Douglas Gilbert

Sign the Petition to Free Tibet from the tryanny of the PRC:

Petition to Chinese President Hu Jintao:As citizens around the world, we call on you to show restraint and respect for human rights in your response to the protests in Tibet, and to address the concerns of all Tibetans by opening meaningful dialogue with the Dalai Lama. Only dialogue and reform will bring lasting stability. China's brightest future, and its most positive relationship with the world, lies in harmonious development, dialogue and respect.
http://www.avaaz.org/en/tibet_end_the_violence/98.php/?CLICK_TF_TRACK

Happy Easter!

2008-03-22T15:57:00.001-06:00

This is our little Sadie Wonder, lying on Mychal’s grave.
We noticed her doing this months ago, when she first came to live with us.
The graves of our beloved poodles are fenced in with the blackberry patch, to keep them safe from coyotes. The Apsos love to run up and down in the blackberrys every morning, playing, scouting for bunnies to chase. The graves are sort of out of their way, off in the corner by themselves.
Still. Sadie almost always heads directly over there, circles around the crosses a time or two, then goes directly to Mychal’s grave and lays down for a bit.
We don’t know what to make of it, if anything. But it makes us smile to think that her little spirit, in some way, acknowledges his departed spirit over the site of his earthly remains.

As Christians, we celebrate the High Holy Day of Easter, or Resurrection Sunday, with an especially joyful heart. By acknowledging that Jesus the Christ, the Son of God defeated sin and death by rising again on the third day after His crucifixtion, our spirits link to His Spirit forever more, and we celebrate not only His resurrection, but our own future resurrection, as well.

My joy is complete in knowing that not only will I some day , in my newly glorified flesh, see the Living God, I will also be reunited with those I love, including Mychal.

Christ is risen; He is risen, indeed!

Spring Chicken

2008-03-20T10:31:00.003-06:00

“While the earth remains,
Seedtime and harvest,
Cold and heat,
Summer and winter,
And day and night
Shall not cease.” Genesis 8:22

This was the covenant promise that God made to Noah after the flood. It is a promise made not just to Noah, but to all mankind, all creatures, and the earth herself.
I hold on to it during these present days of violent weather and global warming. I remind myself of God’s continuing care for the earth and all her creatures when I read of the horrible cruelties that sinful man inflicts on the other living beings that share this planet with him.
I cling to it when the politicians and greedy businesses plunder and spoil the land and water and air for their own gain, without a thought to the future.
This day, in particular, is enough to sustain that hope and convince me that it is not misplaced.
Today is the first day of Spring! The equinox occurred sometime last night. I awoke this morning to a new season on this old earth! Once again, without fail, spring has come!
And here, one of our hens, full of the gift of life itself, ponders the miracle of the egg!
What surprise! What joy! In amazement and awe I give thanks for this new season of hope and renewal!

Tea with Kathy

2008-03-16T12:29:00.003-06:00

Two Irish sisters met one another over the Internet. Common interests that drew them together were love of Lhasa Apsos, a fondness for fabric and fiber, devotion to silent meditation, common faith and a delightful discovery that both shared Celtic heritage and surnames.

A friendship is born!
The tea came in a St. Patrick’s Day package of mirth and joy from the Cavanaugh half, and the Daugherty lass drank it up in toast to them both!

Here’s to you, Kathy Cavanaugh, Irish sister in blood and faith!

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Irish Rose
5” x 7”
Oil on board
$70.00 unframed
katy@katywidger.com

Easter Lily

2008-03-12T15:21:00.001-06:00

Easter falls on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the Spring Equinox. It’s easier to figure if you use a lunar calendar, which is what the ancient Hebrews used, rather than the Roman calendar that we use today. This year, Easter will be earlier than any of those presently living will ever see, for the rest of our lives. The last time it was this early was in 1913, and the next time it will be this early will be in 2228. Easter is the High Holy Day of the Christian Church worldwide, and is the New Testatment fulfillment of the Old Testatment event known as Passover. Christians consider that Christ became the Passover Lamb, and so we acknowledge His death on the cross as the Sacrificial Lamb for the sins of all mankind. We celebrate his resurrection on Easter Sunday morning as the fulfillment of the promise of Passover.
The lily, as one of the first flowers of spring, has become an enduring symbol of the resurrection.

The season of Lent precedes Easter by 40 days. Christians use this time to reflect on the great sacrifice our Lord made for us, as he prepared to offer himself up as payment for the sins of mankind.

I offer this Lily on this, the 31st day of Lent, for your contemplation, and mine.

Easter Lily
10” x 8”
Oil on board
www.katywidger.com

Wide Angle View

2008-03-03T14:09:00.002-07:00

Have you ever wondered what a “Bird’s Eye View” really looks like?
From way up high, how well do they really see? Bird biologists tell us that eagles, hawks and other raptors have built-in telephoto lenses in their eyes. Sort of like looking through binoculars all the time. Ravens have remarkable eyesight, too. I wouldn’t doubt that they, too, have a built-in zoom lense. They can spot a tasty tidbit or remains on the road from a long distance. I’ve painted this pair many times. I don’t know where they nest, but our acreage is within their territory and they hang out around our place a lot. Yesterday, they were harassing a pair of red tail hawks, who also call this area their home. Ravens are daring and raucous, and the red tails screamed and dove at them, but eventually gave it up and flew on their way.

Occasionally, we are forced to dispatch a gopher who tunnels his way into our blackberry patch. We put the dead gopher up on a corner post, sort of a “gopher on a stick” and wait for the ravens to spot it. No sense in wasting good food. The first time, they couldn’t figure out what a juicy morsel like that was doing up on a post. But now, it’s de rigueur, and they sit nearby on the fence, just in case, patiently waiting for the hoped-for gopher du jour every time we work outside.

Oil on board

5" x 7"

$70.00 unframed

katy@katywidger.com

http://www.katywidger.com/

Valentines

2008-02-08T10:39:00.000-07:00

Monet loved her at first sight. She was devoted to him, clung to him like moss to a stone. And he was her rock, her anchor, the steadying influence in her life of tetter-totter emotions. Camille had, shall we say, issues. If she had been human, we would have suspected a bi-polar condition. But she was a gloriously beautiful white standard poodle. And she well knew how gorgeous she was, and like a movie star, knew how to work it to her advantage.

We dealt with her "issues" for her entire life. Resolved one or two, but mostly just learned to live with her idiosyncracies. Monet the Magnificent not only tolerated her oddments, he found her enchanting, her peculiaritys endearing. They were inseparable and when he died she almost died, too, of a broken heart. They had true love, written in stone. Now, together again, like George and Gracie, their love story continues on for all eternity.

Monet and Camille

7" x 9"

oil on canvas board

Pet Portraits by Commission

www.katywidger.com

Maxwell the Colorado Mountain Dog

2008-02-02T11:22:00.000-07:00

God has made no finer creature on the face of this earth than the Golden Retriever. Hunting companion, kind-hearted and loyal beyond all reason; a dedicated retriever of any and every thing Master requests, from ducks to slippers. A most excellent Dog who finds his truest expression as Friend of Man.

This kind and beloved face belongs to one who now awaits his Master on the Other Side. And his Master remembers him well, and in faith, looks forward to a happy reunion with his Ole Bud.

11" x 14"

Oil on canvas

Dog Portraits by Commission

www.katywidger.com

Barnmouse No. 2

2008-01-27T14:31:00.000-07:00

This could possibly be the same mouse as Barnmouse No. 1, but I'm pretty sure it's not.

Inasmuch as I see them for only minutes each day, I have been able to discern different personalities. Barnmouse No. 1 is bold and daring. He barely hesitates in coming to claim his morning peanut. This one here will come out of the hole under the wall when I call to him, ("Good Morning, Little Mice!") but he (or she, I have no way of knowing!) is more hesitant to claim his morning prize.

This morning, I laid a peanut on the edge of the 2 x 4 that Mouse No. 1 is perched on in his portrait below, and waited a mere second for him to claim it. No. 2 met him on his way into an adjacent hole behind a post, and I could hear them tussling over it. Maybe they shared. It was a big peanut. Oh, what I wouldn't give to be a silent observer of mouse society in the barn!

Once again, using the limited four-color palette of Rembrandt. He knew his stuff!

Barnmouse No. 2

Oil on Board

3.5" x 5"

$40.00

http://www.katywidger.com/

Barnmouse

2008-01-25T16:36:00.000-07:00

I know, you'd probably rather see this little guy with his neck in a mousetrap, or not at all. But, a whole family of these cute little guys live in my barn. We used to trap them. But, slowly, over the months, I grew used to them and looked forward to seeing them every day. (Plus, we have a resident weasel who furnishes rodent control on a regular basis.) Then, I started talking to them every morning. Slowly, they got used to my presence and quit scurrying away when I turned on the light. I almost hate to admit this, but, it's true. They now take peanuts from my hand, and actually come and sit on my feet, and look up at me with their little hands reaching out for that peanut. I know, I know! They're rodents, vermin, mice! But they're so cute! They look just like those little Disney mice that pull Cinderella's carriage. I can't kill them. That's the weasel's job. I don't want to know about it!
I painted this "alla prima" using the four-color palette of Rembrandt: white, black, cadmium red and yellow ochre. Took about three hours. It's only 3.5" x 5", but the little guy is just about life-size.
Oil on board
"Barn Mouse No. 1"
$40.00
katy@katywidger.com

Blind Travelin' Silver Dog

2008-01-21T13:27:00.000-07:00

Meet here Panchen, Gompa Apso from Tibet.

He has literally traveled the world and lives now in his forever home with his new person and three of his Apso clansmen.

Blind, yet his vision extends over the miles to look into my heart.

Fare thee well, Silver Dog!

8" x 10"

Oil on canvas board

Be Thou My Vision...

2008-01-15T12:59:00.000-07:00

This is a rough sketch of a blind dog. His name is Panchen, and he is a Gompa Apso from Tibet.

He came to this country, the United States, for the purpose of saving his kind by virtue of his unique and precious genes. He has walked that path, passed on his genes to a new generation of Tibetan Apsos. Now, he is adjusting to a new life among his kin at the private home of a kindred spirit, where he can live out his sightless life in safety and love and acceptance.

I have been walking a path through the darkness in my own life. Often, I have wondered what it would be like to be physically blind. We talk about "blind faith". We ask of the LORD, "Be Thou my vision.." The Word tells us that "faith comes by hearing, and not by sight," meaning that we listen with our hearts. We seek to enlighten our souls with the vision of the heart, as we walk by faith, and not by sight.

Now comes a blind dog to show me the way. He is not mine; my only connection to him is one of empathy, yet he is present in my prayers. Right now, he must re-align himself with the new world that is his universe. He must do so relying strictly on his intuition, his sense of smell and hearing, and the vision of his heart. Surely, this Spirit of Dignity is guided by the Source of All That IS.

My heart aligns itself with yours, Panny.

Friends, Old and New!

2008-01-02T14:22:00.000-07:00

We outlive these dearest of friends,
with broken hearts that will never mend.
A loss so great, it wounds to the core,
never forgotten, those who came before.

Relationships forged though time and trial,
until they walk that last final mile,
and when they pass from beyond our sight,
remain close in our heart, though gone in the night.

Tears come easily each time we recall,
how much they gave; they gave us their all!
Now waiting for us, on the far other side,
they’ll be there when our door opens wide.

We cannot remain, endure on memory alone,
without the true love we have intimately known;
We can only be consoled by another new joy,
the next incomparable canine girl or boy!

So now it’s a couple of Apso’s turn,
To give great love, from whom to learn,
that life is more than it appears to be,
a proving ground and the truth to see.

Zooming is how our lives should be run,
full-speed racing, bonzai fun!
No time to worry or time to be mad,
too precious to squander, just being sad.

Advice not taken, they sleep on the bed,
Making a pillow of their master’s head.
Demanding another backyard ‘poke’;
make up the rules, or tell an Apso joke!

Yes, Adam knew just what he had done,
when he named the dog, a most fitting one.
God spelled backward, and that’s just in case,
We ever forget this wondrous gift of grace!

by Ken R. Widger

"Champion FFT All Said and Done"

6" x 8"

Oil on canvasboard

Katy Widger

Maxwell

2007-12-28T14:17:00.000-07:00

You know how the approach of the New Year sometimes makes you nostalgic for old friends, long gone. Here's one. He was a magnificent Golden Retriever. Actually, 1/16th Coon Hound, which meant he had a magnificent nose to go with that handsome face, and some red in his curly coat of hair. He was my husband's best friend before I met him, and he became my best friend, too, after we married. Such a lover he was! He had been a hunting dog, a retreiver of ducks, geese and pheasant in water or out. But when my husband gave up hunting in exchange for a more compassionate heart, Max was left with no choice but to retrieve newspapers and shoes. Once, he brought us every newspaper in the neighborhood! I spent all morning returning them.

Friend of all, he didn't have a mean bone in his body. Children and toddlers were safe in his care. Kittens, too, nestled between his legs for a warm, secure nap. We were foster parents to a dogey lamb one season, and Max took over its care until a more suitable mom could be found. His love was no respecter of specie!

He lived a long and happy life of sixteen years, and we know exactly where he is right now.

He's fishin' with Leo, my father-in-law, down on the River, there on the Other Side!

We'll see you later, Ole Bud!

"Maxwell in the Mountains"

Graphite on paper

11" x 14"

San Franciso de Assis

2007-12-24T12:02:00.000-07:00

This is a painting of the front that famous church in Taos, New Mexico, San Francisco de Assis, or St. Francis of Assisi. You know, the one that Georgia O'Keefe made famous. She painted the back of it because she was drawn, as are many artists, myself included, to the abstract geometric forms of the massive adobe walls, and the way their uneven surface reflects the ethereal light of northern New Mexico.

On Christmas Eve, the walls and roof of that church are lined with little brown paper bags filled part way with sand. A votive candle is placed in them, and lit at sundown. They are called "farolitos" in Northern New Mexico, and "luminarios" in Albuquerque and points further south. There's an ongoing dispute about the proper name, but it's all in good humor. Sort of like whether biscochitos should be made with lard or butter. It's our state cookie and there is an official recipe, of course. I make mine with butter and brandy, but have no argument with those who prefer lard and sweet wine.

The luminarios are a long established part of New Mexico Christmas culture. Right now, my husband is busy filling our little bags with sand and we'll light the candles at sunset, before we go off to church. There is a full moon tonight. The only thing that would make it even more perfect is if it would snow. We'll come home to the flickering glow of those candles, warmed by the humble brown paper bags, and eat our posole and have a biscochito with some brandied coffee for desert, while we light the final candle in our Advent Wreath. A uniquely New Mexican Christmas Eve and a tradition we have followed for many years!
Those flickering candles have more meaning to us than mere decoration on a special night. On a long journey to Bethlehem, they illuminate the path for the donkey to trod, carrying his precious cargo of Mother and Child, soon to be born in a stable, filled with the warmth and adoration of the animals there. And into this dark night, this world filled with war and death and hopelessness, the Christ Child comes to bring true Peace of the Soul. Joy, unspeakable, overflowing our hearts until tears pour from our eyes with the excess! Love, unexpressable love, that will not let us go! Receive Him tonight! Light the way in your heart for the Christ Child to come in and give you the Gifts He has promised! Love, Peace and Joy! Merry Christmas, Saviour Divine!

(This painting is sold, but a similar one is available at http://www.katywidger.com/)

Dysfunctional Families

2007-12-17T10:50:00.000-07:00

I heard a character on a TV program say recently that, “we’re all damaged goods.”
She spoke truthfully. I certainly am. My family, my husband’s family, all bear signs and marks of sin’s effect on our lives. Broken relationships, damaged spirits, shredded hearts that may never be whole again, this side of Heaven. Time doesn’t necessarily heal all wounds. Sin leaves a scar; by definition, a scar is a sign of a wound. This time of year those wounds, old and new, seem to fester and cloud our joy with resentment, depression, sadness and unresolved grief.

Love covers a multitude of sins, the Word says. I believe it. I have experienced the healing power of love. But love, true, selfless love, also bears a heavy price. We risk everything when we love. We risk having our hearts broken, our spirits shattered, our lives torn apart. Why, then, love at all? Because that’s what we were created to do. That’s the lesson we were put on earth to learn.

I believe that Jesus, the Messiah, came to earth to show us how to love, to show us what love costs. He was wounded for our sins. But his great sacrificial love overcame them. Through His willing sacrifice came forgiveness and reconciliation for the whole world.

Have you ever read the Genealogy of Christ in the Gospel of Saint Matthew (Chapter 1, 1-17)? What a dysfunctional family Jesus came from! From Adam to Joseph, Jesus’ ancestors included children born of an incestuous relationship, children born of former prostitutes, children born of adultery. You just know that those relationships weren’t all warm and cozy. One thing about the Word of God: It is unsparing in its recording of human depravity. God’s Word makes no excuses. Warts and all, here it is, folks. Just like the lives we all live.

I don’t have a perfect family. Neither did Jesus. And so, I make no excuses for our dysfunction. I accept my family, and myself, for what we are, not what I wish we were. But, I continue on in that love that Jesus brought to me, that lives in me because of Him. And through that love, though it be painful at times, I plan on , someday, becoming a whole, fully functioning Spiritual being. Perhaps not until that glorious day on the Other Side, but yet, one day! And with that Wholeness comes True Love, that will not let me go!

We have now lit the third candle on the Advent Wreath. Come, Oh Come! Emmanuel!

"Reconcillilation"
Art Quilt
Hand dyed & printed fabric
Collection of Northern Baptist Seminary
Chicago, IL

God Bless All Those Cold Little Critters!

2007-12-15T10:23:00.000-07:00

It got really cold last night. It was 12 degrees F this morning at sunrise. And it's a whole week away from being officially winter.

When I let the chickens out of their coop, it was all warm and steamy inside from the collective body heat of 11 chickens and the light that had come on an hour or so earlier. The goats came out of their warm, dry shed all blinky from a good night's sleep, clean straw clinging to their bodies.

That early, that cold, not a wild creature was stirring, not even the ravens. But I heard some nearby dogs barking. I hear them barking late at night, too, even on extremely cold nights, well below zero. My heart goes out to them, and to the other domestic livestock and critters who must endure sub-zero temperatures, freezing winds and blowing snow without adequate shelter. The weatherman will often conclude his nightly winter forecast by imploring people to bring in their pets for the night. Maybe some do. Maybe some of them had warm shelter, protected from the cold wind. But I know for a fact that some do not.

What are people thinking when they leave their dogs and cats out on a cold winter night? When they leave their domestic livestock unprotected from the harsh elements? Then, the next day, they receive a bowlfull of dry kibble and maybe someone breaks the ice on their water. So, they use up even more bodily resources trying to warm up their cold bodies with cold food and ice water. They survive, generally. But the reality is that it shortens their lives. They use up precious resources trying to stay warm. Their immune systems are compromised and they are prone to early death from a variety of causes. Winterkill. It's caused by the cold.

Please, people. Have a heart. Take care of your critters on a cold night. Make sure they have warm shelter protected from freezing wind. And warm water to drink, at least once a day in the winter. They are the "least of these", too.

Note to friends and family: Apologies for misleading you in our Christmas letter. You can see those "adorable pictures" of our critters at http://www.zeketheapso.us instead of the Forever Friends page at the blackberry site.

"Blue Bird in Winter"

5" x 7"

Oil on board

Purchase
See my art here

A Prayer as We Light the Second Candle of Advent

2007-12-10T13:00:00.000-07:00

"In the darkness we light a flame of hope.

May it dance not only upon our Advent wreath but within each of our hearts as well.

Hope is the flower that blooms from the ground of faith.

And so, with joy, we keep the tradition of ages past as we encircle our Advent wreath with love

and prayerful expectation.

May this Advent season bring us a new birth of hope in the ancient promises of God.

Amen" (author unknown to me)

We finished our Christmas shopping this morning, while the snow floated to earth soft like a feather and covered all we could see with its gift of moisture on a parched land. An Advent Gift from God! But what can we give Him? What do you give Adonai, the Sovereign Lord of the Universe? Like the Little Drummer Boy, who played his drum for Him, and offered the only gift he had to give, we, too, seek to gift the Christ Child with something from our heart, something with meaning for Him.

Jesus the Christ said, "Whatever you give to the least of these, my brethren, you give to me." So, we who have much offer gifts to the least of these, those who live in fear and despair, lives torn apart by war, disaster, poverty and disease. We offer gifts of transformation of lives through a wonderful organization called "Samaritan's Purse". We gave a brood of chicks, a dairy goat, a school of fish in a fish pond, help with farm and garden projects, emergency food. We gave to help train a native believer to proclaim the gospel message of hope and salvation, the gift of Good News to suffering people.

If you're tired of the meaningless orgy of greed and gluttony that consumes our hearts and souls every December, visit this website and offer a gift to the least of these, to the Christ Child whose humble birth in a stable we supposedly celebrate. http://www.samaritanspurse.org/

Bobbie Sue

2007-12-04T10:38:00.000-07:00

She was born in Paris, winter child of the Ozarks, firstborn of Carl and Trilby.
Raven hair and amber eyes, dark as the deep shadow of the piney woods;
Child of the unopened door.
What omens opened her heart there?
She was water cress in rushing stream and green musk melon, red squirrel with bushy tail
escaping long rifles in tall trees.
Gap-tooth barring smiles she smiled with her eyes instead, twinkle on a moonless night.
I remember her laughter, deep and throaty.
And her tears, falling into sudsy water.
Life dealt her bitterness, and she almost gave it up.
Pain, but she persevered.
Rescued by angels she was born again and died in triumph o’er the grave.
Heroine of mine, muse of my soul, she watches from the Other Side and is remembered well.
Happy birthday, Mom!

"Girl with Feather"
22" x 24"
Oil on Canvas

Who Is This Man, Jesus, Anyway?

2007-12-02T13:39:00.000-07:00

Today is the first Sunday in Advent, in the Christian calendar. Blue and Gold are the colors of royalty and they signify the coming of our King! We acknowledge and celebrate during the four Sundays of Advent that Christ Has Died; Christ Has Risen; Christ Will Come Again! The first candle we light on our Advent wreath is called the Prophecy Candle as we look forward to His Coming Again. We are admonished by Christ himself in the gospel recorded by Saint Matthew to "Keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come...Be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him."

So, who was this man, anyway, that Christians worship as the Son of God and Son of Man? Who was supposedly born to an unwed teenage mother, a virgin, no less, in a steamy stable full of sheep and cattle one star-filled night on a winter long ago? Who Christians are expecting to come back to earth again? And why should we care.

I'll let Him explain it to you in His own words: "He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For by Him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by Him and for Him. He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. And He is the head of the body, the church; He is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything He might have the supremacy. For God was pleased to have all His fullness dwell in Him, and through Him to reconcile to Himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through His blood, shed on the cross." (Colossians 1:15-20)

Pretty awesome, huh! I have meditated on the mysticism of those words for years; it would take eternity to fully comprehend their meaning. I made a quilt, called "Reconcilliation" that now hangs in the library of a seminary in Chicago as a result of that meditation. (You can see it on my art site under the art quilt section.)

Do you sometimes feel a little empty at this time of year, dashing through the chaos with your hair on fire? Slow down, and consider that there is a real reason for this season, after all.

Jesus, who died for your sins and mine.

Jesus, who rose from the dead to defeat sin and death.

Jesus, who is coming again to complete the reconcilliation of all things to God.

"Blue and Gold"

Oil on canvas, framed

11" x 14"

Purchase
See my art here

Sadie Lady

2007-11-27T14:45:00.000-07:00

This cute little Apso person has recently come to live with us. Our home will be her forever home.

Her official name is Ch. FFT All Said and Done, and with all her official duties completed, she's earned a comfy retirement home in the country. She used to be a show girl. You should have seen her with her headdress and costume on, prancing around on stage! She won all the awards, too. She was a beauty and she's still a cutie! Instead of the long tresses she wore in her professional career, she's got a darling little bob now, which shows off her eyes and figure even more.

I can't even begin to tell you how blessed we are to be her guardians, for her to be our little girl! Zeke will tell you that she's the best thing that's happened to him since raw chicken necks for breakfast! What a pair they are! I'd say "partners in crime", but they are such Good Dogs! I think they bring out the best in each other.

After God created Adam, He saw that, even though Adam had all the animals to befriend and assist him, he needed a helpmate, someone just like him, but different. So God created Eve to be his helpmate, his partner, his life-long friend. Zeke needed someone just like him, only different, too. Everyone needs a friend!

Welcome to our lives, our home, and our hearts, Sadie Girl! We already love you very much!

Sadie

6" x 8"

Graphite on paper

Consider the Ravens

2007-11-24T15:02:00.000-07:00

I hope you had a Happy Thanksgiving. We did. Wonderful food; great company. New folks and old friends and acquaintences made for stimulating conversation. The blessing before the meal was said by a young man, fresh out of high school, on his way to university. He held up those less fortunate and those of recent need for a special blessing, and it was well-said. Made us all appreciate even more God's generous provisions in our own lives.

In my life, I have seen some hard times, yet I have never gone hungry, never gone without a roof over my head, never gone without medical attention, always been adequately clothed. In spite of the occasional dire straits , God has always provided for our needs, bailed us out, set us back on the straight path. He promises to do that if we will but trust Him. Lean on His promises. It's harder done than said. But we need only look to the birds of the air to see how trustworthy are His promises.

Jesus tried to console his anxious disciples who had given up careers and income to follow Him by telling them to "Consider the ravens, for they neither sow nor reap; and they have no storeroom nor barn; and yet God feeds them; how much more valuable you are than the birds!"
Whenever my anxious heart needs consoling, all I have to do is look out the window. Jesus feeds the ravens daily around our house. He feeds us, too.

"Tasty Morsel"
5" x 7"
Oil on board
$75.00

Purchase

Every Good and Perfect Thing is from Above

2007-11-19T18:24:00.000-07:00

Every good thing bestowed and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights…James 1:17

I am thankful to the Father of Lights for the good and perfects gifts of:
Salvation from my sins, through the greatest gift of Grace, Jesus the Christ.
Having known true love and being loved unconditionally.
Freedom so wide and so deep that I feel indignation at the slightest inconvenience.
Friendship and fellowship of kindred souls.

Dogs who have shown me unconditional love, companionship and friendship.
Food of so many different kinds and varieties that I could spend eternity enjoying it all!
Drink, the good gifts of the fruit of the vine and grain, and fresh, raw goat milk!
Water, the elixir of life. I pray, Father, for the gift of Rain and Snow in this dry land.
Seasons of the year, that we may count our days.
Stars to light the night sky with Your splendor.
Wild animals who depend on You for their care and teach me to trust in You alone.
Books to read, learn from, grow with; to explore unknown lands, peoples and things.
Your Living Word.
Finally beginning to comprehend the Peace that passes all understanding.
Joy. Pure, unadulterated joy. I have learned it from watching Your animals at play.
Stillness, and quiet, to know that You are God.
The gift of listening to You.
Dreams and visions of the night.
Technology that allows learning, communication and fellowship across this earth.

Friends who understand what loosing a loved one, before their time, is like, regardless of specie.
My list continues….
What are you thankful for this day, and every day?

"Winter Spice"

16" x 20"

Oil on Canvas, signed and framed

$495.00, for purchase info:

See my art here

Out of Time

2007-11-14T15:21:00.000-07:00

How is it that a year has past but the pain has not?

I imagine you vibrant, intense, whole and full of the energy of life. It is the only way I can cope with your absence. My life ended with yours, and it is only now slowly returning to me under this veil of tears. I pray that yours continues on the Other Side of that Rainbow Bridge that I shall one day cross. Your face is the only thing I long to see on that day, bounding towards me with eyes clear and bright, full of the sun, full of the Son....

Beasts of the Earth Praise the LORD

2007-11-08T10:07:00.000-07:00

These magnificent fellows are Oberhasli Buck Goats. They were disbudded to prevent horn growth when they were kids, so their magnificence is somewhat diminished, but their sexual energy, fueled by a fully functioning testosterone storehouse between their legs, fills the air with its pungent aroma if you are anywhere in their vicinity. They are gentle, though powerful and truly smelly beasts.
We took our beautiful, tall and slender young maiden doe, Claire, to visit Vito, the stocky fellow on the right, the other day. She was eager to go. Hormones surging, she needed little urging. He was eagerly waiting and hastily accommodating.

The sounds, smells, sights and seasons of the barnyard ground my soul in the Source Who Provides for each according to their kind. I am profoundly thankful for this simple miracle of creation that takes place each fall. Claire will bring forth kids in the springtime. She will provide her very own life force to nourish them. We will drink the excess, blessed by a humble goat who willingly gives us what God has given her. She worships and praises her Creator through her gift of service to mankind. " Praise the LORD...Beasts and all cattle...Let everything that has breath praise the LORD!" Psalm 148, 150.

You See This Dog....

2007-11-03T16:26:00.000-06:00

He came to live with us on January 19, when he was 11 weeks old. But I began loving him just a few weeks after his birth, before we'd ever met. We named him Zeke. I sent him a little toy, which I carried around with me inside my shirt for a day, to get it all properly scented and introduce him to his new mom's smell. To this day, it is the only toy out of a whole box full that he cares anything about. It goes with him everywhere.
It's the most amazing thing, to have a furry brown-eyed baby come into your life. They completely take over, and rightly so. They require complete attention to their needs. They are your child; you are their parent in every real sense. I willingly gave my life over to this little tyrant with the wet nose and soft, moist eyes that melted me with adoration one moment and insisted that his demands be met the next. His unique personality was evident early on: this is no "ordinary" dog. He is opinionated, judgmental, a considered thinker who moves easily from the spiritual to the temporal world. He listens to reason, most of the time. And delights us with his unpretentious joy in the most mundane. How could I have known how fitting a name we gave: "strength of God", Ezekiel is serious, profound, tenacious. He seldom takes any course of action without deep consideration. Many rely upon him for his just and equable judgment."
Happy Birthday, Little Man Zeke! God grant you many, many more!

Hermione's Visit

2007-10-27T18:55:00.000-06:00

The evening after the Great Horned Owl surprised me in the early dawn, I encountered her again. She was sitting on top of the garage after sunset, when I went to put the chickens up (to keep them safe from the nocturnal visits of the weasel). I turned around and it was like seeing Santa Claus on top of the house, she was so imposing and so there. I quickly gathered up my little dog and confronted her. She stared down at me with those impossibly yellow, round eyes and listened intently to every word I said, imploring her to eat all the bunnies she wanted, but leave Zeke alone. And then she casually flew away, into the night. The next morning, there she sat on the fence, completely unperturbed as I strode out noisily, milk bucket in hand. I came to a short stop when I saw her unmistakable sillouette on the fence in the early twilight, did an about turn back into the house and grabbed the digital camera. I got off one shot when the camera informed me the batteries were low and it would be shutting down. Damn! Not a good time. I put the camera back in the house and came out again, fully expecting her to be gone. But no, there she sat, not ten feet from the animal shelters and milking shed. I went about my chores, talking to her, watching her as she watched me, with equal intensity. Finally, I asked her, "what is your name?" Immediately I heard, in my head, what sounded like "Henri....Hermano"; I questioned her again.

"Hermione!" she exclaimed. And she turned her head to some distant unhearable fragment of sound, and floated off towards the setting moon on silent wings. She hasn't been back since.

Zeke the Apso

2007-10-22T12:20:00.000-06:00

This is Zeke, my Lhasa Apso. He came to live with us and be my companion about ten months ago. Next month, on November 4, he will be one year old. I hope to paint his portrait by then, and I'll show it to you if I get it done. This is a preliminary sketch. He's quite the character; don't know if you can tell that by the sketch. I'll try and capture his sense of whimsy and depth of character in his portrait. That's the whole point of painting a portrait of someone. To capture their inner likeness as well as their outer appearance. Zeke loves to play and have fun, but he's also very serious and focused. He's also very communicative. I'm never at a loss to know when he desires something, or what his opinion is about anyone or thing. He's an excellent judge of character in both humans and beasts. He doesn't suffer fools gladly, either, but he loves children. I have come to trust his assessment of those we meet, and he's always spot on. His discernment of human spirit is a gift

that I understand many Apso's possess. They have been the companions of the Tibetan Monks for centuries and have needed this gift of discernment in order to protect the monks from harm. And they have suffered much harm since the Chinese invaded Tibet in the 50's, destroyed many of the Tibetan temples, killed many monks and their little dogs and continue their oppression to this day. This race of wonderful little beings has only been saved because of caring people in the West who have rescued and preserved this breed with the cooperation of the Monks. If you're interested in learning more, click on the FFT Lhasa Apso site on the sidebar. Theirs is a fascinating story with many heros.

Touched by Fall

2007-10-20T13:58:00.000-06:00

The quality of the light certainly does change when the Autumnal Equinox signals the end of summer and the beginning of fall. I plot the change of seasons by the course of the sun as he rises behind my neighbors house during the summer months. As soon as the Equinox passes, he comes up bright and cheerful just to the right of their house, in full, blinding view every morning as I go out to milk. And in the evening, he sets much closer to that little gap you see there in the back side of the Sandia Mountains. That's the view from the front side of our home, towards the west. That gap changes even as you drive away from our house; it only looks like that from my personal perspective. Life is constant change, constant motion. The only thing truly dependable in the entire universe is God.
"I change not," He says. How comforting!

"Touched by Fall"
7" x 9"
Oil on Board
$75.00 Purchase

Ravens, Owls and Weasels

2007-10-18T17:22:00.000-06:00

A weasel killed one of our little hens two nights ago. At least it was a clean kill; she died quickly. This morning, before first light, I headed out to the chicken coop to see if the humane trap we had set the night before had captured the culprit. Six steps from the backdoor, I just had time to register the sillouette of a Great Horned Owl not four feet in front of me before she floated into the dawn on silent wings. They are bigger in person than they are on TV! Fully awake now, heart beating a little faster, I discover that our predator has weaseled out of the trap.

In New Mexico Hispanic culture, owls are the omens of death. If she'd come the morning before, I'd have suspected she was there to announce the little hen's death. Now I wonder, are we in for it, again. Maybe it was just a post mortem.

Ravens, too, have a mortuarial vocation. Just doin' their job. I remember this fellow from last winter, gathering at the remains of some unfortunate, suicidal bunny on the road. I keep it all in perspective by remembering that I just eat mine off a plate. God provides for me, just as He does the raven, the owl and the weasel.

"Raven in Winter"
6" x 8" Oil on board
$75.00 Purchase

Mychal's Bone

2007-10-15T14:07:00.001-06:00

I love dogs. I don't just mean that I love dogs the way you love chocolate, I mean I love dogs more than I love a lot of humans in my life. And I love a lot of humans, too. But I consider dogs to be persons, in that I believe they have personalities, that they are sentient beings, an alien race, another tribe. And in stating that, I am saying that I believe that dogs have eternal spirits and souls, just like I believe that humans do. Only, they have no original sin, like we do. When Christ died to reconcile the cosmos with God, that "world" that God so loved that He died for included animate life. Creatures, all of them, now reconciled to God. Christ made up to animals what man had done to them. I believe that when animals die, their spirits, that eternal part of them, goes back to God, who gave it. Meditating on the Word has convinced me of this.

I lost a very special love of mine last year. His name was Mychal Angelo. He died too soon, according to my plans, but right on time, according to God's economy. I miss him terribly. I'm going to paint a portrait of him, someday. Not quite right now, though.

"Mychal's Bone"

7" x 5"
Oil on board.

Local Color

2007-10-12T15:16:00.000-06:00

We share the air space around our home with a pair of large Chihuahuan ravens. They mate for life and claim a territory in which to raise their young. We have grown quite fond of the pair that occupy the area in our neighborhood, as we have watched their antics over the years. (They once dropped a golf ball into our yard--who knows where it came from!) We think they raised two young this year. The fledglings hang around through the fall, then fly off in search of other young ravens to hang out with through the winter. It's fun to see the large groups of raucous juveniles, numbering in the dozens, hanging out together. If they survive until spring, they charge out on their own, seeking a mate and claiming their own territory. My husband caught this shot earlier this summer. While I was washing my brushes in the sink just now, I noticed a raven in the same area of the sky as the one in the photo I just painted, catchin' the wind, doing his wing overs. They enjoy the wind a lot more than I do!

Local Color
6" x 6"
$75 Postage Paid in the USA Purchase

Indian Summer Hollihocks

2007-10-11T11:00:00.000-06:00

Our first frost came a little early this year. It got the tomatoes, just like I suspected. But most of the hollihocks survived. This year I had bright pinks, like this one, pale pinks, whites and even a few blacks (which are really amazingly deep purple). They really struggled because we got so little rain. But they are always cheerful and optimistic, no matter the weather. They bloom where they're planted and smile no matter what comes their way. I know a wonderful, older lady, like that. Whenever you ask her how she is doing, she always answers, "Fantastic!" And she means it, too. I know the hardships she has endured in her life, but to meet her and greet her, you wouldn't have a clue! Optimism and faith in the face of uncertainty; God grant us, one and all.

Indian Summer Hollihocks
6" x 4"
$55 Postage Paid in the USA Purchase

First Eggs, Fresh Eggs

2007-10-09T10:05:00.000-06:00

Have you ever had the incredible experience of gathering up a freshly laid egg, still warm from its recent habitation within the body of a young hen? Have you ever gently sauteed a freshly laid egg in butter, anticipating the delicious, orange yellow yolk as it runs through the tines in your fork? Have you ever tasted the sunny freshness of a new egg? I hope so. I give thanks to God and my young little hens for these, their first eggs. They are so proud of them! And I do, indeed, thank those little girls personally for each egg they so generously give us. Such gentle, loving creatures. Such incredible nutrition, packaged so expertly!