Notes From the Underground

Often when I am in a phone conversation or my mind is elsewhere, I find that I have been doodling. My subconscious is expressing itself.

I remember that this one was a difficult discussion.









One might call it Hypo Art. Images from down under. Sublimages.

These noodlings have survived because
as I was throwing them in the trash
I looked at them and thought, huh!

So instead, I tossed them on one of my piles.


Unconscious poetry, speaking from the dark.





What are my dreams telling me?


Who are these friends?


Where have I stuffed these emotions?









This kind of art is done without agenda. Without deadlines. Without ambition. It simply flows. And is what it is.

Mostly the ideas are nonrepresentational. But occasionally one of them peeks out to say hello.


Do you doodle? Are you giving voice to your shyer musings?

Giant Grapefruit Mistaken for the Planet Jupiter!

It would be hard to imagine a more discouraging month. There was sadness, sickness, and wierdness up the wazoo. But it is turning out to be a great new year, full of promise, and a life time supply of grapefruit. Dear friend Cathy Bonnell, went out in her back yard, picked some of her other-worldly fruit, put it in a huge box, and mailed it to the dark, wet, cold, mist-shrouded, Northwest. Let me preface: she is the world's greatest librarian, and friend. Besides which, she lives in Arizona. You know, "sun, sun, sun, til daddy takes the T-Bird away". Come to think of it, she may live near Area 51.

To help you get a an idea of the size of these puppies.

The range of citrus: grapefruit, oranges, lemons, lime, tangerine, kumquat. They arrived just in the nick of time. I needed vitamin C big time, and this kind friend brought earth medicine, smiles, and an antidote to the blues.

At first these two didn't know what to make of each other. But after swapping stories...

It was best of pals. They became inseparable. Now they go everywhere together-- the beach, the cinema, hiking, they were even going to take in a jai alai game, but thought better of it.

Art Made From Plum Sweat

This is an orphan plum. We rescued it from a life of rot and splat. In Port Townsend there are gleaner freaks. Waste not, want not, you know.

Our daughter, Faith, came over to do a bit of canning a while ago, while we kept the grandkids busy. Since the windows all fogged up from the steam of canning, we discovered a new kind of "canvas" for making art. If I'm not mistaken, Michelangelo began the Sistine Chapel on his grama's window pane, while she canned plums. Or was it pears?

Faces from the foggy mists of the past.

Smiley faces. Point, move finger, and ta da! Art happens.






Careful...just so.

This picture tells
of fairies, and
ballerinas, and a kitty, no wait, that's a cloud with a rainbow. And those are birds and a
porcupine. And I'm flying so fast.