60 For 60: Introduction December 13, 2019

I was born in 1960. That means that on October 17 of 2020 I will be 60 years old. Older than some, younger than others. Lucky for me my best friend Helen is facing the same situation as I am, 6 months earlier, but still the same. We pondered the impending milestone last August sitting on Crescent Island on a log in dappled shade, our toes in the sand, eating a picnic lunch and watching the Fraser River flow downstream, our kayaks waiting at the shore. Both of us were expressing an “antsiness”, a dissatisfaction or a need to do something or be something better. It wasn’t just the changing of the season this time; we wanted something epic to mark our birthdays. That’s how the list began.

I pulled a sketchbook and pencil out of my art bag and scribbled furiously as we blurted out things we wanted to do: ride a horse, learn to fly fish, volunteer, take vitamins, give blood. Very quickly we realized that we needed some organisation. And then we realized that the list could very easily encompass 60 things. Hence the name 60 for 60.

We chose 6 categories: Bike Rides, Hikes, Personal Growth, Health and Wellness and of course, Kayak Trips.

We acknowledged that most of the things we would do together, some alone, some would include our husbands. And we also knew that our lists would be tailored to ourselves as well as each other.

With 6 months between our birthdays we decided that The List could be accomplished over 18 months instead of 1 year; to start on my 59th birthday October 17, 2019 and end on Helen’s 61st birthday March 8, 2021. Thank goodness for the extra 6 months because this list is going to be a challenge to complete.

Our boats waiting for us on yet another beach. June 2019, Dodd Island in the Broken Islands

Week 32 -37: I'm Still Here

It feels like I should say "Happy New Year" , my favorite time of year is just around the corner and so, in my nature of always looking forward I am already getting into the mood of Autumn.  The Fall Equinox will happen on September 22 this year, an event that inspires change and growth, a new season, a new beginning.  I know I've said it before, so I will repeat:  I love the Fall!

I have no idea what happened to Summer.  The last time I wrote I think I was still complaining about the cold and rain, then somehow overnight we were immersed in sweltering 32 degree heat, a temperature that makes going to work in an air conditioned building something to look forward to.   Peter and I went on a Road Trip to visit my sister in Boyle, Alberta, a little town an hour and a half north of Edmonton- if you know how to navigate Edmonton.  I did not know how, so it took us 2 hours to get to Patti's house from Rush Hour in the Big City.  It was a long way to go for the best Roast Beef Dinner and hugs, but totally worth it.  Unfortunately, half way home the A/C died in our car somewhere around Valemont.  It was 37 degrees.  We stopped and swam in the North Thompson River, Horse Lake, Fraser River and Lake of the Woods.  And ate a lot of Ice Cream.

The highlight of my summer, actually my year so far, was my trip to Haida Gwaii.  A decade long dream has been fulfilled.  I think that will take up its own blog.

This week I have cleaned out my closets and clothing bins, bought new bedroom curtains and bedding, picked out paint chips and started to prep the walls, changed my hair colour and cut it,  started swimming again and rearranged the furniture.  Did I mention that I love the Fall?  It is a time of change and renewal.

Since my trip to Haida Gwaii I have been making very slow progress on a very special painting. Sgaang Gwaii is an historic site on the Anthony Islands in Gwaii Hanas.  On a calm grey morning we paddled on smooth glassy long rolling swells in the company of a humpback whale and puffins to this magical spot hidden at the end of  sheltered lagoon.  We walked a winding boardwalk through old growth forests to the Watchmens' cabin where we introduced to our guide Vincent.  He led us down a steep path, through a crack in a boulder the size of 3 story house, that opened into an ancient village site, the ground soft grass and moss, a crescent beach protected from strong winds and waves by a small island, a hill sloping upwards to the forest.  Above the high tide mark on a smooth plateau stood a row of weathered totems; house poles and burial poles in different stages of decay, carved  imagery still decipherable, majesty still apparent.  Vince told us the stories of each pole, giving us a history of the times, a sense of the people who had lived there.  It was a deeply moving experience.

For 3 weeks I have been stealing moments to work on this painting.  It's starting to come together, but it's far from complete.  Like me:  It's still here.

Week 31: Kelp Is Your Friend

The first time I heard the phrase "kelp is your friend" I simply accepted it as a fact, I didn't know why kelp was my friend but I was sure that it would become clear eventually.  It did, fairly quickly.  In rough water head for a kelp bed if you can. The turbulence will dissipate among the floating bulbs and fronds  and you'll have an anchor to hold on to or to drape across your deck for stability.  Also, its a great place to sit and whale watch.

A post storm, low tide beach will be strewn with the ropey stalks and shiny bulbs. Once  I tried to weave a basket of bull kelp winding and twisting the 12 foot long stalk.  Mostly it was an exercise to save me from boredom on a bad weather beach bound day, I wove one that fit into the palm of my hand, no larger than a toonie and another using 3 12 foot long giants that weighed about 20 lbs.   My big basket would have been ineffective for hauling anything but it had a certain beauty in form. I had to leave it lying in the sand as there was no room on my boat to bring it home.  Also, it would have smelled bad drying out.

If you have ever visited the Vancouver Aquarium you'll know that there is a large 20 foot deep tank with kelp and a current.  It's incredibly soothing to sit and watch the fish swim or hide among the long waving fingers reaching towards the surface.  Ironically, I don't like swimming in kelp as I can always imagine sea monster fingers reaching to pull me under,  I really hate the feeling of seagrass or kelp on my legs.  But when I'm in my boat I am drawn to its beauty.  I love it when the sea is clear and I can see into the depths of a giant kelp bed.

This week I had a bit of fun sitting at Decades Saturday Market flogging my cards.  Carol Kinnee set her table next to mine and we basked in the warm sunshine chatting with passersby about our projects.  I didn't make a lot of money that day but I did sit still and relax for a few hours and sometimes that's worth more than the cash.

See you next Tuesday!

Week 30: Birds of a Feather

Sometimes you hear them before you see them as they swoop down from behind.  The soft swoosh of air rushing between the flight feathers at their wing tips is unmistakable,  and sometimes startling, and always delightful.  When Ravens or crows come to a beach they bring mischief.  On one trip on Dick and Jane beach on Vargas Island Sue tied a bagel to a string and attached it to her kayak deck.  We watched by the fire until dark waiting for him to figure out how to catch his prize.  In over confidence I once left 3 bananas exposed with my boat as I carried gear from beach to campsite.  When I returned they looked completely intact, but in fact they were just empty skins with a beak wide slice down the length.  On another trip I had a 4L plastic wine skin full of red wine half-tucked at the edge of my tent vestibule.  I came back from a hike to find several beak-sized puncture marks and only a liter and a half left in the bag.

Ravens have a wonderful rich history in first nations lore.  Their story is one of cunning cheek stealing the sun from man and throwing it into the night sky to create day.  They represent mischief but never with ill will.  They make me happy when they visit a beach that I am on.  If I could adopt a totem I would choose Raven.  I would love to be thought of as someone who could make people laugh and smile and feel happy just to be present. 

Last week we had a couple of Ravens and Crows hanging about at our beaches.  So this week I played with a couple of them in the studio.

If you are in Chilliwack on Saturday I will be at Decades Coffee Shop 45846 Wellington Ave between 8:30 and noon at their Artisan Market.  Stop by and say hi if you can!

See you next week!  And check out www.carolkinnee.com and www.cathypelter.com my fellow 52Over50 bloggers.

Week 29: Paddling in Clayquot Sound - Familiar and New

I  like to re-read favorite novels like Pride and Prejudice and re-watch shows on Netflix like Downton Abbey and reconnect with old friends when our lives are too busy to stay connected on a week to week basis.  It's reassuring when the same warm feelings can wash over me in the company of friends both factual and fictional.  I get the same feeling of contentment when I settle in to the cockpit of my kayak after a months long break, like visiting an old friend.  Similarly when I first arrive at the coast and smell the sea air, hear the waves and feel the wind on my face, the memories wash over me like a warm embrace at the same time that I feel a rush of excitement for a new adventure. 

I was lucky to stand on the low tide beach at the government dock in Tofino this Saturday afternoon embracing those familiar and new feelings once again.  After a 4 a.m. rise and dash to the first ferry out of Horseshoe Bay,  Didi and I hauled our boats and gear to the waters edge and stuffed and crammed every nook and cranny of our precious 18 foot long kayaks, to the point of amazement when  everything eventually fits inside and on top and they still float.. It's always new and exciting at the same time that it's familiar and comforting to set off on an adventure.

This was not going to be my typical paddle.  Usually, a kayak trip involves paddling for  2-3 hours on the first day, setting up a base camp for several nights to facilitate easy access day and evening paddles of 1 -2 hours at a time with lots of beach time to relax by a fire.   Covering 50-60 kms would be normal.  But this week was different.  On the first day we covered 19 kms, the second day:34 kms.  Beached, and a little beaten, on the 3rd day we sat in the sun and painted.  We pushed 17 kms on the 4th day and an impressive 31 kms on the 5th.  We unashamedly threw in the towel and called for a watertaxi for the last 10kms.  We were facing head winds, rain, nightfall, currents going against us and exhaustion.  Over a 100 kms in 4 days of paddling is impressive, but considering the conditions we were in I am more than a little proud of what we accomplished.  

Our destination was Halfmoon Bay on Flores Island.  I hadn't been there since 2005.  On that trip we rose at 4 a.m. on July 27 and paddled around Siwash and Raphael Point from Cow Bay riding rolling swells early in the morning before the winds picked up. That's the short cut to Halfmoon Bay.  This week Didi and I paddled from Whitesand Beach up Millar Channel, through Hayman Passage and down Shelter Inlet to get to Halfmoon Bay- the longer but safer, more sheltered route.  It did not disappoint.  

On our beach day we woke early, to the sound of rain on our tents and set up our tarp before the first cup of coffee.  By the time our 2nd coffee was ready the sun had come out and we sipped as we wondered down the 400 yard sandy, crescent-shaped  beach to the low tide pools filled with lime green anenomes, crabs and sea stars .  This beach is quite remote, on the western most corner of Flores; it is pure rugged exposed beauty.

It was a week of constantly changing weather and paddling conditions, but familiar territory even though it has been over a decade since I last paddled there.  My partner was a perfect match for endurance and entertainment; lots of laughs, great coffee and chocolate covered almonds.  Twice we didn't get off the water until well passed 8 p.m. , too weary to eat more than a yogurt for supper before crawling into our tents and sleeping bags.  Didi and I have paddled many trips together with Helen and Sue but it was our first trip just the 2 of us and the distance that we covered was amazing.  Familiar and new at the same time.

Contentment reigns.

This weeks painting was done sitting on the beach at Halfmoon Bay. My palette, water pot and brushes rested on a log and sometimes so did my feet when I leaned back in my chair to stretch my legs out and gaze the 180 degree view that our paddling efforts had provided. I got sun-kissed while I painted that day.  Today my nose is peeling while I am curled on the couch looking out the window at the rain writing my blog.  

See you next week.  

Week 23 - 27: Sometimes Life Gets in the way of a Good Blog .....

...but there is always time to paint!

The weather got warmer and the paddling season began in earnest.  I was lucky  to get away to Portland Island and sit on the beach sketching and painting for a couple of days.  "Spirit Trees", "Old Growth Cedars" and another sketch of my favorite "Old Arbutus"  and "Arbutus Point on Portland Island"  emerged from the serenity of listening to the waves.  

I picked up several extra shifts, mostly night shifts, this month as well.  I am reminded of the fragility of life.  And how quickly a "task"  masks the person  lying on the stretcher looking up at you.  In the overwhelming hectic pace of the ED, just like every other job in the world,  there are tasks that need to be done, questions that need to be asked, data that needs to be entered in the new electronic charts ... learning the new computer system has pulled precious moments of personal interaction between nurse and patient, we are becoming a profession of mouse clicking ticky boxes automatons.  I miss paper.   For the first time I am aware that I am aging out of my job.  I'll stick it out until retirement in 7 years but this switch to electronic charting has not come easy to me.  I am a salmon swimming upstream in the river of technology and nursing. 

To celebrate Mother's Day I went for High Tea with my (childish) parents and (adult) children ...I could easily eat cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches, lemon tarts and lavender earl grey tea in fine bone china on a regular basis.  And scones with clotted cream.  I was reminded of the day a decade and a half ago when my neighbor was visiting and noticed that my hutch was slightly askew from the buffet it was attached to.  When she adjusted it the whole thing crashed to the floor with all of my Royal Albert Memory Lane fine bone china and Pinwheel Crystal, wedding presents that I had dusted and washed but seldom used for 10 years.  She was devastated.  I was not.  Even though that was what young brides did at the time, collect china and crystal and put it on display, it didn't really bother me that it was in shatters all over my dining room floor.  I told my neighbor that Friends were more important than Things, and that was the end of it.  Ironically, we are no longer friends and I have the most eclectic collection of favorite mismatched mugs and tea cups.  We evolve.

On our anniversary on the 23rd Peter and I sat across the living room at the end of a long dusty work day, weary and sticky, and late.  We had made plans for dinner and a movie and by the time we got home from our busy days we were both "done in".  I could easily have had a cool shower and put on a nightie and rain-checked our date.  I suspect he felt the same way, except for the nightie.  For a split second I saw us ignoring our 37th anniversary for the comfort of complacency.  With a jolt we both stood up and said "Right...let's go!"  It was too late to get to the restaurant so our dinner was a drive-through A&W for the best Teen burger ever as we dashed into the theater for tickets just as the lights dimmed.  It was worth the effort!

Once again I am reminded:  Don't let Perfect get in the way of Done.

The month of May has come and gone.  See you next Tuesday!

And check out my sister 52 Over 50 bloggers www.carolkinnee.com and www.cathypelter.com

Carol has a new look to her website and a brand new book available.

Week 22: Sunday is the New Tuesday

I've been lucky to get out for several paddles this week as it has finally warmed up enough to not be deterred by weather.  I have received my first Spring sun kiss, I forgot to apply sunscreen on my first sunny paddle and suffered the consequences of "crispy critter skin".   While I love the idea of being a Lady Adventurer I am willing to concede that I really don't like being cold and damp.  This makes for lovely long rainy days sitting in front of a fire knitting or bundled in a sweater perched in my studio but it does not encourage outside physical activity.  Friday marked "60 Days before Haida Gwaii"  so I am making more of an effort to ignore the rain and get out and paddle, walk and cycle so that I will be fit and ready for our kayak trip in July. 

Yesterday I had a chance to test the sweater that I knit.  A soft rain was falling when we set off late Saturday afternoon but it stopped long before we got back for our supper campfire picnic.  I feel that my sweater has been baptized with rain and smoke.  It smells lovely!   

In the studio this week I had a couple of successes.  The first was a study of a Gerberra Daisy, vibrant and controlled.  I need to add here that when I say a "study" I mean that I found the image on Google and sketched and painted it using that image as a reference.  The second was a looser painting of the Red Roof in Grappler Inlet from my own photo and memories.  

See you next week!

Week 21: It's mid- April and Still Cold and Rainy!

At the Japanese reception to the White House Trump announced that he is going to chat with Kim Jung Un, or not, about trade relations, soon.  Saskatchewan wants to join Alberta and boycott trade with BC, Barbara Bush died and former FBI DirectorJames Comey quoted Jan Arden in his new book.  You cant make this stuff up.  This is the world we live in.  By the way the quote he used is " To not think of dying is to not think of living".  It almost makes me want to read the book.

I have been craving a simpler life lately.  One that involves not driving for an hour to see the people that I love, to get to my job or to the places I like to visit.  The price of gas is forcing me to consider ways to shrink my world, or buy a more efficient vehicle.  Ironically, I just figured out how to make the seats go flat so that I can sleep comfortably in it, which has increased its value a hundredfold since we bought it last year.  

The kids came home for a visit last weekend, along with a few loads of laundry.  I love waking  to the smell of coffee brewing and Devon and Peters voices wafting up the stairs. There are projects brewing in this gene pool.  We all seem to have something artistic on the go, and we love sharing.

This week I stretched my comfort zone a bit and tried a new medium.  I've been using pastels to do thumbnail sketches before I set out with a new painting but this week I used them for a large piece.  I think Van Gogh was the first, but certainly not the last, to use a swirling line to depict air currents.  I am a fan.

See you next week!  Don't forget to check out www.carolkinnee.com and www.cathypelter.com my fellow "Over  50" artists.

Week 20: Looking At Whaler Island

In a moment of hesitation, on my way out to a meeting this week, I asked Peter, my fashion go- to -guy  "Can I go out in this outfit" ?

The collar and hem of a long blue plaid flannel night shirt peaked out of the top and bottom of a chunky cable knit sweater hiding the  "too big" in the waist jeans with their tight ankles half tucked in to black leather chelsea boots. My hair was swept up and pinned into a messy bun on the top of my head,  bits and ends escaping around my silver hoop earrings. I pulled the outfit  together with my signature fashion statement that makes every outfit from scrubs to LBD perfect: lip gloss.

I felt great!

And then Peter said something that made me feel even better. "You're an Artist Yvonne.  You can wear anything."

It's been a tough week emotionally with young Peter moving out.  We keep missing him in the little things like no more black fluff from his sport socks trailing through the carpet on every floor, his giggle rising upstairs when he reads a joke on facebook or the sound of his car coming around the corner at midnight anticipating the sound of the rising garage door,  his call "Love you ! " as he heads out to work. 

Its also been a physically exhausting week cleaning up all the shit he left behind. He took down all the posters on his wall but left enough putty to build a baseball, as well as 6 guitars, 2 amps and a drumset.  Thank goodness for Craigslist.  Its a good thing he's coming to visit this weekend, he can collect the loads of laundry that got left in the washer and in the dryer.  

Between cleaning and room rearranging I still found some time to spend in the studio.  This week I went back to a favorite beach for inspiration.  The fishing/surfing town of Tofino marks the southern corner of Clayquot.  Flores and Meares Islands dominate the Sound but Vargas, Bartlett and Whaler Islands dot it as well.  If you sit on the beach at Gibson Marine Park on Flores Island at Whitesand Cove looking west you can see the stand of douglas fir trees at each end of Whaler Island and the narrow sand dune that separates them, with the low flat rise of Vargas Island in the distance.

I'm still playing with quinachridone gold and trying to get more light into my painting.  See you next Tuesday.  www.carolkinnee.com has some handy info on de-skunking, check o ut her latest "52Over 50" blog.  Cheers!

Week 19: The Empty Nest

On Sunday we helped young Peter take a couple of car loads to his long anticipated first home.  Even though he and his belongings are only halfway out the door, it has already created a void in our home.  There is an under current of gloom and sadness on his departure.  Our lives and home will be a little quieter without him living here.  He is a constant source of laughter, pride and generosity.    It's an exciting event to move into your first place as an independent being from your parents.  Autonomy is a highly under rated commodity.  In our joy for him it's hard to be the ones left behind.  Even if we do get our dining room back.   And maybe a yoga room.  He has been very kind giving us several weeks to adjust.  I  think it will be hardest on his dad though, as they have worked at the pub, as well as played together these last 5 years.  I suspect our gas consumption will rise in the first few months as we will want to visit our lad in the city.  It's a 270km round trip from Chilliwack to West Point Grey.

I am exploring Bullet Journaling this week.  Check out www.bulletjournal.com  Since I am a list maker by nature this is better than chocolate for a treat.

Last week I painted an arbutus in vivid tones.  This week I painted a riverside trail in similar tones.  

There is angst in the air as we move through Change.  I'm looking forward to some lazy warm sunny days to feel happy and settled.

More next week.  Cheers!

Week 18: Guess What Happens When You Don't Save Your Work?

I had to do another technological upgrade course at work this week.  Our site is moving to electronic charting in the ED.  The initial transition a year ago to charting the admitted patients wasn't so bad but if I had a dollar for every time I sighed" I miss paper!" I could probably afford a really fancy dinner out.  The 3 hour course on monday was yet another reminder that I am falling behind technologically speaking.  Back in grade 8 I thought that learning to type was for losers and I was certain that I would never miss not having the skill.  When my kids learned keyboarding in elementary school, I thought to myself "Hey , maybe you should do one of those online typing courses" , but I didn't.  I am a classic "hunt and peck" pc user.  

I have been trying for days to figure out how to create a playlist on my phone.  I've texted Devon for help but Google Music won't load, and to be honest, I often don't understand the lingo or the context of the instructions.  I accidentally accrued a $50.00 charge for data because I wanted to listen to a new jazz band I heard about on CBC.  Virgin actually put a lock on my phone for 24 hours.  Sigh.

And then, last night I was writing my blog and somehow I let the pc reboot without saving my work.  So when I went to post it it was gone.  I went to bed instead of trying to figure it out.  That happens a lot now.  If I can't figure the technology out, I just do without.  Not always a bad thing.  At least I can still make a cup of tea.

This week I've been painting a lot but I'm not necessarily happy with the results.  The best of the lot is this arbutus.  I was trying for something a little more colourful and whimsical.  

If you like jazz check www.IngridJansen.com  of Infinitude - Hope Trails on youtube and as always my blogging partner www.carolkinnee.com  Have a great week.

Week 17: Spring Clean

I cleaned up in the studio today.  I don't know how it happens but every 5 weeks or so my artistic space gets cluttered up with stuff that has no business in my studio.  I have a feeling that today's activities will be a precursor to a major house clean.  That is logical, as after all, Spring is Sprung this week.  And our son is leaving home.  I do believe that furniture will be rearranged.

In the process of de-junking the studio I pulled a box out from under my table and found a folder of paintings that I was unsatisfied with at the time of completion.   I set aside a few of them and carried on with my task at hand.   My paint  stained plastic yogurt and sour cream containers have been replaced with clean white ones,  surfaces have been dusted, order has been restored.

As much as I love making lists, I hate leaving things half -done.  The unfinished paintings lying on my table mocked me with their presence. They had to be dealt with!  So I added colour and shadows, and I lifted colour and added highlights.  Some of them look better , others became muddy.  None of them are any good but they no longer need to be addressed.  I learned stuff, so I can justify my efforts with that.  And now I can start fresh.  Like a new semester in high school.  A blank sheet of paper in a clean room. 

Next week I might tackle my taxes.

I am posting the completed painting that I started last week of an Arbutus at the Point. It's on a full sheet of Arches 140lb cold press paper.  I had a bit of fun getting the bark on the arbutus tree using Quinacridone Gold and Alizarin Crimson.   Even just saying those names makes me happy.

Carol blogged about playing crib this week.  It reminded me of when Peter and were dating 38 years ago.  That made me happy too.  Check her out at www.carolkinnee.com

Week 16: Pi Day

A strange combination of events coincided today.  Two of the most brilliant minds of our time will now forever share this date: Albert Einstein was born in 1879 and Stephen Hawking died.   While I try to understand quantum physics, I simply don't,but I do admire the minds who have tried to make them more palatable to me and the rest of the common masses.  Their theories have been woven into our tv shows, movies and libraries.   And while their mathematics and science are beyond my comprehension, their humanity and humour moved me. 

Today is also Pi Day, the annual celebration of the mathematical constant 3.14.  We had apple a la mode.

This week we were away on Vancouver Island and while enjoying a sunny walk in the park at Nanaimo Harbour I witnessed a  tumble down the stairs of the gazebo.  The older sister missed her footing and landed on the younger brother.  There was a bloody nose and knuckles and skinned knees and chaos with the third member of the group calling for help to get her friends back on their feet.  Sigh ...you can't turn your back on octegenarians for a second!  The injured are healing and resting. 

We also had a visit to St. Peters church on McLeary Street, specifically to the graveyard to see my grandparents grave.  When we pulled into the parking lot I was annoyed to see a large crane which appeared to be installing a Canada Post super mailbox, the kind with about 50 boxes.  I thought it an entirely inappropriate setting to park it so near the churchyard and graves. Then in shock I realized it was actually inside the fence, inside the graveyard!  A split second later it dawned on me that this was in fact a new columbarium, not a mailbox being installed.  I shared a giggle with mom and dad and Peter at my naivete and then I turned and looked at the view that had been behind me.  Looking south down a gentle rolling slope dotted with crocusii and headstones, Mt Benson loomed in the distance.  It was very peaceful.  Not a bad final resting place at all, even in a mailbox.

This weeks painting is unfolding slowly.  I don't want to rush it so I am posting it as "Part One: Arbutus at the Point".  I suppose this is one of those times that I won't let perfect (or finished) get in the way of done.   Hopefully it will be done by next Tuesday.  I guess you'll have to come back and see.

Week 15: "Somethings"

This week I am trying Something Old and Something New. 

I made a pretty great trade with Peter and swapped him the manly sport watch that I won in the First Annual Hot Wheels Christmas Extravaganza for the Samsung tablet that he won at a food show.  My Something New is to learn how to use it.  This morning I thought that I was very clever when I downloaded a Word app to compose my blog on.  I don't feel very clever this evening though because now I can't figure out how to get it from one device to the other and when I tried to copy and paste it it showed up here in a very strange digital language that doesn't make sense ...and so I am trying to rewrite as I type. 

It's funny how that kind of task seems to come as second nature to people born after 1990.  I was born in 1960 and I miss paper.  I am truly dragging my heels into electronic technology.  Next month our site will move to electronic charting.  Terrifying!

My "Something Old" is revisiting a favorite photo of a favorite thing in a favorite place.  I chose a familiar theme because the last couple of weeks I have been stepping outside of my comfort zone in the studio.  I craved the comfort of painting rocks, water and trees.  So I am back to one of my favorite seastacks at  Fleming Island.  I've painted it before and will probably paint it again.  I also went out for my first paddle of the year today; on the Fraser around Crescent Island with my beat up old thermos full of tea. 

As in paddling, also in painting, I can still go back to a familiar place and find inspiration.

Do brides still do  "Somethings" at weddings these days?  You might notice that the painting has a few" Somethings Blue".

See you next Tuesday!  Don't forget to check out my fellow 52 Over 50 bloggers www.cathypelter.com and  www.carolkinnee.com

Week 14: Jellies

Jellyfish or "Jellies" move and dine at the mercy of the currents and waves.  They can't rush towards their dinner nor can they hide from their prey.   I love encountering Lion's Mane jellies, larger than dinner plates, or tiny porpita and physalias  floating on the current while out on a paddle.   To catch a glimpse of  one drifting by ( or should I say catching a glimpse of one as I drift by ?) is enough to make me dig my paddle in to stop and fumble with the waterproof camera dangling around my neck so that I can snap a photo.  The irony is that the swirling water created from my efforts to get closer to the Jelly always send it farther away from me, or inaccessibly under my boat. 

It always makes me a little sad when they get washed up on the beach.  Submerged,  they appear as soft and fluid as the water they are adrift in, but on the beach they take on a solid form like a gelatinous lump of aspic congealing on a piece of pate at a leftover buffet.  Even so, I always approach their transparent forms with caution; when I was young my  big brother Chris told me that they still had the ability to sting even when they are high and dry with grains of sand dusting their domes.  I should probably take that bit of wisdom with a grain of salt as he also told me that there was a Poop Monster at the bottom of the outhouse.

This week I've been feeling a bit like a Jelly, floating where the current takes me instead of choosing my own route.  Decisions have been reactive, not proactive.  It could be the winter blahs, it could be the emptiness following the long anticipated visit at the end of Patti's visit.  It could just be that I'm due for a downward cycle.  But regardless of whether I'm moving with the current or swimming against it, like the Jellies I am still moving.  

This weeks painting is on  9" x12" on Arches hot pressed paper using Primary colours:  Cadmium Yellow, Ultramarine Blue and Alizarin Crimson.  

Please check out my fellow "52 Over 50" bloggers:  www.carolkinnee.com  and www.cathypelter.com

See you next week!

Week 13 : "Home is not a place...It's a feeling"

I grew up in Maple Ridge, but I haven't lived there for over 3 decades.  Every time I go back to visit family, or for work I am struck by the feeling of "coming home"  whenever I get a glimpse of the Golden Ears. 

On reflection there are many sensations that make me feel at home; the first squeeze into my cockpit of a paddling season; the smell of seaweed and creosote at the pier; the first glimpse of the ocean after an hours long  cross-island drive; my daughters laugh; my son's hug and the sound of his voice when he yells out "Love you!"; Peters kiss goodnight as I slide between cool smooth sheets. 

It was Mom's 80th birthday on Monday.  I posted Jan Ardens' "Good Mother" video on her facebook page.  The lyrics struck me:

I have money in my pocket, I like the colour of my hair

I have a house, I have a car

I have a Good Mother, and her voice is what keeps me here

Feet on ground, heart in hand , facing forward, facing back.

I've never wanted anything

When I hear that song I feel the same way as when I see the Golden Ears.

This week I made another attempt to capture "the ears".   It probably won't be the last time I try.

See you next Tuesday!  Don't forget to check out my fellow bloggers:

www.carolkinnee.com

www.cathypelter.com   

Week 12: Mistakes

I decided to knit a sweater this week.  No small task for someone who hasn't successfully knit anything beyond an oddly shaped "rectangular"scarf made of scrap wool for her dad at age 9.  None the less, I braved the yarn store with the catchy name "Trendy or What Knot " and was directed by the very kind and encouraging proprietor to attempt a "My First Sweater" pattern using a lovely grey heather marino /acryllic blend worsted knitted in the round( look at me using the correct lingo!).   

My mother taught me to knit when I was 6.  It was part of the Brownie program back in the 1960's.  Mom was Brown Owl.  Isn't it funny that when I was growing up skills like knitting and darning were staples.  When did texting take over and eliminate textiles?  I don't think my style has altered from what I learned at age 6.  Mom is left handed and even then I had a hard time switching things in my brain from left to right, so I'm "clunky".  My tension is good but to watch me knit I look jerky with long reaching hand motions instead of the smooth efficient moves of a truly gifted knitter like my friend Melanie (facebook Sew Many Quilts, So Little Time) and her daughter Carey.  I have thought a great deal of my mother leaning over my shoulder watching me learn to cast on, knit and purl.  Likewise, I taught my daughter to knit  and  was one of her Brownie leaders.  Nice memories, mothers and daughters and passing on pleasurable skills.

I observed to Peter this morning, as I was pulling out a couple of feet of stitches to repair a mistake I had made the night before:  It takes 10 times as long to fix the mistake as it does to make it.  "As in most things in life Yvonne", was his response.  Smart man.

My painting this week is a study of river rocks using friskit, salt, glazes and ink for effect. 

More next week!  

week 11: A Chapter Break

I like listening to audiobooks when I drive.  The only problem is that my drive rarely exceeds an hour, even when I drive slowly, and the audiobooks usually exceed 15 hours.  I binge read novels, often staying up until 3 in the morning blinking sandpaper eyelids forcing myself to stay awake until the last page.  I also binge watch Netflix shows.  I've almost forgotten what it's like to wait a week for the next episode.    So it makes sense that I would "binge listen" audio books..  The awkward part is running out of road before a logical chapter break.  And its weird to sit in the car in the driveway listening to  a story.  It might be ok to sit for a minute or 2 to catch the end of the News but any longer than that will make the neighbors wonder.   

I'm listening to one right now.  So is my son because I don't have any earbuds and I'm at a very exciting part of a thriller, too exciting to turn it off.  So exciting that even though the battery on my phone is dead I've plugged it in to the kitchen wall so I can hear it while I blog in front of the fire.  Lucky for him he does have earphones so that he can listen to his own program while he taps away on his laptop on the other side of the great  room.  Sharing space, like families do.  I like that.  

This weeks painting is another portrait, using primary colours to create tone.  A very satisfying exercise.  It's my dad. 

This week feels more like a chapter break than a story progression.  My audio book has way more going on than I do this week.  I like that too, today.

Maybe more will happen next Tuesday. 

Week 10: Super Blood Blue Moon,King Tide and Goodbyes

On the last day of January, tomorrow, there will be an unusual lunar event:  a super blood moon.  It will coincide with a King Tide and a low front moving in from the Pacific.  The moon will be full and closer to the earth making it appear 14% larger in the sky, hence the moniker "Super".   It is also the second full moon this month, making it "Blue".  There will also be a full lunar eclipse in the northern hemisphere on Wednesday night.  All of this gravitational pulling and pushing will make for extreme high and low tides referred to as King Tides.   Right now the wind is hurling raindrops at the windows.  It is just above zero and the driving rain is creating puddles pooling in every dip on the landscape.

My mom's best friend died this week.  If I were a poet I would try to express the sadness and pain that her loss has created, I would try to evoke in my readers all the feelings and memories associated with a woman from my childhood who I regarded as an extended parent.  I would try to express the pain that my mom is feeling, as if a limb were torn from her.  I would try to describe the way her laughter would escape in a wide open mouth in surprise and how she would close her lips tight, trying to suppress the outburst of joy, with a musical giggle, from getting away from her.

It is apt that the tides are extreme this week.   It is right that the waves and tides should rise and roil.  Nothing should be calm; Jan is gone. She will be sorely missed.

I'll be back next Tuesday, hope to see you then.

Week 9: Royals

On my way to work yesterday I was listening to a guest on CBC's "Q" share her enthusiasm for the upcoming 2018 royal weddings( -yes there is more than one!) The segment ended with a recording of Lorde's hit called "Royals".  It put a big smile on my face a s I drove down the freeway in pouring rain towards a 12 hour shift in emerg, and that is saying something. 

My favorite line in the song is "We crave a different kind of buzz ..."  All the wished for things in the song, like Grey Goose, diamonds and cadillacs are nothing compared to the things that I crave.  In my teens I daydreamed of a log home ranch like the one Walt Longmire lives in on the Netflix series "Longmire".  Peter and I binge  watched the 6 seasons to a very satisfying ending.  It's worth watching if only to check-out Longmire's fictional ranch.    It reminded me that I used to collect log home design books in my youth.  That dream disappeared when I realised that I am afraid of horses, or more to the point, falling off of horses, getting knocked by flailing horse head or stepped on by a horse hoof.  Also I'm not very good at feeding animals on a regular basis.  Which probably explains our cat's indifference towards me.

I also went through a phase of wishing I lived on a tugboat, but that one faded with the bone chills of damp air and the cost of moorage.  And knowing nothing of boat engines. 

Nowadays, I crave my tent on a beach, the smell of wood smoke, my hands wrapped around a cup of coffee, leaning back in my beach chair with my feet propped up on a log, watching the waves roll in on a rocky shoreline.  My buzz is paddling.  On the wintery rainy days or my long working days I daydream of sitting in my boat and waking up all my senses with the rise and fall of the tide and the breeze and visions of whales. 

I've seen many whales while paddling the west coast; my first time was near Hand Island in the Broken Group.  We came upon a pod of humpbacks in the late afternoon.  Each encounter is a thrill.  I cant imagine being complacent about these amazing creatures.  When I'm on the ocean I am always aware and searching for the plume of mist and listening for that puff of exhalation of  whale breath.  I am always hoping a for a glimpse of the nobbly scarred spine curving as it dives and the tail flip, like a wave good-bye .  The rare occasions that I have seen a humpback breach are etched in my memory. 

I have a few reference books of cetacions in my library.  Todays painting is a compilation from several photos and my imagination.  It's on Arches 140# hot pressed paper, 9"x12".

You might have noticed that I was a day late posting this week, but if I had been on time then I wouldn't have had the chance to wish my friend Nicole Nelson a Happy Birthday!  You should check out her amazing photography on Instagram at Ninny1616.  Her hummingbirds are a wonderful contrast to my humpbacks. See you next Tuesday!