Dispatch From LA

A Room With A View

Adios LA. Hello Oregon. Hey Oregon, you're green! And wet. Glassy rivers twisting this way and that.

So many bridges! And railroad tracks, and tall shaggy trees. Astoria is REAL. I am in it. Right this second! This calls for at least 5 or 6 more exclamation marks and I am not afraid to use them.

On the road to Astoria deep forests straddled either side of the road. And the forest floor is covered with ferns and mossy branches! It looks to me like if a person were to lay down on that velvety ground they would soon be covered in a moss blanket.

When I stepped inside my room I screamed and clapped my hands together. From my window I could see an enormous ship passing under the Astoria Bridge. Then another, and another. I don't think I need to leave. I'm just going to sit right here in the big comfy chair by the wide open windows with my binoculars and watch the ships go by. And breathe in all the river & sea air, watch the seals swimming by, and the birds, and...

Yeah. That's what I'm going to do.

Next Stop: Wonderland

I'm nearly ready to point my compass north towards the land of the temperate rain-forest, where average yearly rainfall equals our 10 year totals One last bit of mailart before I hit the road.

My favorite Oregonian sent me my very own Jorge Negrete. Check out that cool crochet spray.

Wee art!

But wait, there's more.

And more...

Who said I was finished?

Yes. This really is ALL from one person. Not just any person. JUDY the Magnificent!

A painting.

Great Scott, is that a monoprint?!

Look some encaustic work!

Put your earplugs in I'm going to get the bullhorn out of the car. Time to start my celebratory cursing. What? You don't rattle off every bad word you know when you get excited? Sheesh.

I just packed my lunch-box sized suitcase. I exchanged the one that holds one large cat, for the smaller size that holds 2 baby cats. These suitcases were made for hobbits, not she-bears like me. It barely holds all of my underpants. Oy Muchachos, this is a serious lesson in packing light. Fortunately my new library book, The Falls fits perfectly. If I take out my binoculars.

Next stop: Wonderland.

Calamity And Deep Color

Russet & eggplant colored things caught my eye in the garden.

Flashes of green. Spiders have been at work here, casting silk lines, spinning their webs. Everything in a state of disarray.

Brackish water collecting in birdbaths and pots.

Overgrown bathtubs.

A pure fusion of calamity and deep color.

Meanwhile I continue the visual journal experiements. Avoidance tactics?

Yes. I think so.

But the unputdownable book had to be finished. So good! And this roasted tea needed to be drunk.

And this clever mailart from Nicole needed to be enjoyed.

In 2 days I'll be On The Loose! Off on adventures near and far. Surely at some point the garden will get tidied and put back in order. I feel a vague sense of obligaton to sort things out, but no direct plan. I really do work best this way.

3:52 pm

Visual Journal #8 is off on a trip. Before I packed her up I needed to find a suitable box. I don't think it's unreasonable to expect to find a serviceable box or two in the dark reaches of my garage. Maybe there's one up near the rafters by the black widow's traveling high wire act. Nope. What about up there underneath the hatbox Dorothy gave me when I helped her clean out her garage? Nope. Surely there's one behind the dryer! Boxes are always falling back there. Nope.

That was Saturday. A person can only do so much searching before they begin to feel discouraged and a little annoyed. I mean I know good and well there were plenty of boxes in that garage last week. Someone is going to get blamed for this. Blaming others always makes me feel better about most situations. On Sunday more ransacking. I found a box wedged in between a couple of suitcases. So happy!

In the meantime I continue to work in the current book. And dream of Oregon.

JUDY the Wise posted THIS art journaling video over on her blog. Go look it's exceptionally fabulous!

Then git yourself over HERE and witness the marvelous Dora The Wonder Cat playing piano!

Need more U-tube? Check out THIS cool travel journal from Comfortable Shoes Studio. She has several worthy of your attention.

Cruzada Número Doce

All this month Michelle's STREET TEAM have been documenting their crushes. To see what everyone is crushing on clickety-clack your way over there and check out the sidebar of names. Each one belongs to a different crush.

I decided to make a mosaic to showcase the thing that I'm digging these days. Not that I need to. Not that you, oh patient and indulgent reader, don't already know the thing that lives in the dark recesses of my brain. But, well, I needed a reason to make another mosaic didn't I?

BURST OF RAYS

At long last the rain I'd been dreaming about found its way to LA. All night and most of the afternoon water poured out of the sky. By that I mean we accumulated 1/2 an inch or so. Who's complaining? Not me!

I also have a crush on words. Not sure how to document that, but if you want to see some Really Clever words and phrases get yourself over to Hidden In France She's hiding plenty of good stuff I promise you. Be sure to check out her main blog. It's brimming with visual love.

An Act Of Good Faith

Oh, will you look at that gleaming city all spread out in the early light? All of the glassy buildings glittering in the deep shadows of morning. This is what I see every morning on my way to school. On this particular Friday as I drove I thought of the rain headed our way across the choppy Pacific.

It's all everyone is talking about, but estimated time of arrival keeps getting pushed back. Late afternoon," someone says. "Not till midnight," says someone else. I moved my umbrella from the trunk to the backseat as an act of good faith. And...it DOES impart a sense of moving in the right direction.

Seeing clouds in the sky is so startling. Yesterday when they first began to appear the kids didn't know what to make of it. "LOOK!" they all screamed when I picked them up from lunch. "CLOUDS!" We all stood staring up at the sky. Necks craned back as far as possible. A sea of rainclouds loomed overhead. "Is a storm coming?" one of them asked.
"Yes," I answered, "A giant one. We're probably going to have to spend the night at school."
"FOR REAL?!" several kids shout excitedly. "Where will we sleep?"
I tell the kids I have brought tents that we'll pitch in the classroom. 4 to a tent. I get my own.
"What will we eat?"
Froglegs.

Flash forward to this evening. Nary a drop, but the skies looked promising late this afternoon. Sort of. Although, I don't think these are rain clouds.

Definitely not Storm of the Century clouds.

How bitter my disappointment when I saw these insubstantial wisps circling above my house early this evening.

More visual journal pages from autumn 2005.

Clouds are never far from my mind.

A Quiet Shrine

Under the music I can hear the rush of cars and trucks
on the highway...
and my fingers drumming out
a running record of this particular June Tuesday

as it unrolls before my eyes, a long intricate carpet
that I am walking on slowly with my head bowed
knowing that it is leading me to the quiet shrine
of the afternoon and the melancholy candles of evening.

from Tuesday, June 4, 1991 by Billy Collins from Sailing Alone Around the Room

This is what fall feels like to me:  a quiet shrine I am heading towards.  Perhaps in a darkening forest with leaves drifting down, or beside abandoned railroad tracks, or in my bedroom at sunset where I  lift my head from my book in time to see the last of the day's light burning orange in the trees on the horizon.

Tomorrow the high will be a mild 72 degrees and the low will be 60.  Autumn is pulling into town on Friday.

More mailart arrived in a friend's box in Iowa.

I am thoroughly and completely engrossed in this book.  I'm always pulled to stories with dark themes and miserable characters.  I enjoy having my heart break a little bit from the beginning all the way to the end.  I also enjoy reading about real events then doing a little research and learning more.  Like THESE ships filled with Jewish immigrants who were turned away from port after port during WWII.  While I'm reading the book I need to keep stopping and closing my eyes and saying, "This happened to someone.  This really happened."
Anyway, despite my grim review, you might enjoy this book if you love the marriage of a good story and beautiful words.  A perfect combination as far as I'm concerned.

Musically,  I am currently drowning in this CD.

These earrings will soon adorn my ears.  Diane has some L O V E L Y things in her Etsy Shop.  Go have a look.

The Missus is enjoying a moment of respite.  Her brothers enjoy chasing her around and around ALL DAY LONG.  They insist they do it out of love and concern for their sister's waistline, but I'm not buying it.

Masters And Commanders

Autumn is in the air in Los Angeles as our day and nighttime temperatures inch closer and closer together. Today our high was 76 and our low will be 62. A touch of coolness on the skin at all times with plenty of sunshiny warmth if the need should arise. A nice dousing of rain would really top things off, but it's a bit early to start dreaming of WET. Besides, that's why I'm going to Oregon. I'm hoping at least one of my days there will be of the dramatic thunderstorm variety complete with bone rattling thunder and bucket-sized raindrops.

Some of the mailart I dispatched out to Minnesota and Iowa arrived.

More of that tomorrow.

One of the kiddos in the class is wheelchair bound for the next couple of months as she awaits her new leg braces. Fights are practically breaking out over who gets to push. A hiss and baring of the teeth settle the troops down. Everyone is turning out to be remarkably good attendents. I like the intense concentration displayed as we brave the long walk across the school yard towards the main campus.

Some pushers can't believe their good fortune at getting to be the master and commander of the wheelchair.

I wasn't kidding about the teensy weensy suitcase. This is what I ended up with. It holds either 1 large cat, 2 medium cats, or 3 baby cats. Buck still thinks travelling is for the birds, but he isn't ruling out a few naps in the suitcase.

Only one blog to share today, but I promise...it's a KEEPER: True Nature Don't take my word for it, go see for yourself.

Wrestling Alligators

Lately teaching has resembled wrestling with alligators more so than breaking baby horses. According to my Worst-Case Survival Handbook I am supposed to cover their eyes to make them more sedate. I can tell you right now that tip just plain won't work on little alligators that have been kept in a pen for the last 6 months. Nope, that won't work at all. To get inside the mind of an alligator you have to BECOME an alligator yourself. Yesterday I opened my great alligator jaws wide and hissed. All of the baby alligators' eyes grew wide with fear. "Get out your Math Journals!" I commanded. Everyone scrambled to their desks and the search was on.

Then Emmanuel had to go and ruin the mama alligator routine I had going. As I was surveying the murky depths of the classroom looking for signs of disobediance Emmanuel crept up behind me and tapped me on the back. I whirled around prepared to hiss again. "Do you have a flashlight?" he asks me in a squeaky voice, "It will be easier to see inside my desk" Great peals of laughter slipped out of my reptilian throat and boomed across the room. Nothing in my Survival Handbook says to laugh in the face of chaos, but sometimes when you do it you feel a lot better.

Getting this in the mail from E.B. also made me feel better.

Italian ephemera and my own blue Amalfi Coast house made especially for me.

Pages from an old fretwork catalogue dated 1875 Oh boy! A new source of stencils to cut.

Aren't these pretty?

Yes indeed. The lady of the lake at Wishbone Lane was very kind.

I don't think I've sufficiently showed off my favorite new tool in my visual journal arsenal. These labels sent to me by Roben-Marie have endless uses. I need an Ironwoman like this to train me for the staircases in the Amalfi Coast.

Where is my sister getting these cool envelopes?

Don't you love her latest self-portrait?

Oh! What's this? A page in Visual Journal #7 from 2005. Yes. I really am constantly hatching escape plans.

And another...this from a couple of pages that will appear in Journal Revolution.

Okay Muchachos, that's all she wrote for now. I'm off to Target to find a teeny tiny suitcase for Oregon and Italy. I'm taking traveling light to whole new heights.

Wait. I almost forgot to share the splendors of this blog I've recently discovered. COBALTIKA has some visual imagery that will knock your socks off.

AFter you poke around there, head over here to ALL OVER PRINT Get out your smelling salts. You'll need to be revived after that trip. That is one seriously B E A U T I F U L blog.

All Aloney On My Owney

The air in LA is warm and heavy this evening. Some plants thrive no matter what the weather does. I like this sky blue shrub above that blooms all year. I've seen some of these fold themselves completely around walls and fences.

Code name for the succelent below is kalanchoe beharensis. In time, it too will get enormous. I'm a big fan of its dusky triangle shaped leaves that feel like rough felt.

Bursts of rays are swimming underneath every journal page lately. I like building everything onto the striped background.

The semester can't snap shut fast enough. I'm desperate to be all aloney on my owney in the wild green yonder of Oregon. At night I'm dreaming of the Columbia River and rain and deep forests and fog and exploring.

By day I'm a centimeter away from locking myself in the supply bin and playing solitaire until the last day of school. I need to wear a t-shirt that says NO on it. No, I cannot attend the terribly important union meeting. No, I will not join the fascinating book club getting underway. No, I cannot come to Math Night and play games with the parents. No, you cannot stay in the room over recess and ask me questions. No, I will not be attending any weekend social events. If it involves people and talking I cannot attend. Yes, I am trying my hardest to act like a human being. No, it is not easy.

I will let these two ponies visit me in the supply room.

Wanna see some cool collages? Go HERE now. How about some paintings that are so lovely you will GASP?
Need more visual stimulation? How about an entire series of polaroid DIPTYCHS and triptychs? Say what?
Perhaps some lovely beach cottages are more your speed.

6:27 p.m.

I love Sunday. It feels like such a big day. Hours and hours spread out like a buffet. There's time for reading and writing and looking up strange but true facts about places you'll visit soon. Cutting self-portrait stencils that look nothing like yourself. (this is what happens when you're impatient and cut from a photograph that hasn't been altered first)

Making a mess on the art table.

Walking to the neighbors to take pictures of their giant cactus buds that are ready to burst open any day now.

Some have already opened.

Talking to your sister on the phone while she makes bisquits and gravy.

She's been busy in her visual journal too.

Reading a good poem.

Keys

When things got hard
I used to drive and keep on driving—
once to North Carolina
once to Arizona—
I'm through with all that now, I hope.
The last time was years ago.

But oh, how I would drive
and keep on driving!
The universe around me
all well in my control;
anything I wanted on the radio,
the air blasting hot or cold;
sobbing as loudly as I cared to sob,
screaming as loudly as I needed to scream.
I would live on apples and black coffee,
shower at truck stops,
sleep curled up
in the cozy back seat I loved.

The last time, I left at 3 a.m.
By New York state,
I stopped screaming;
by Tulsa
I stopped sobbing;
by the time I pulled into Flagstaff
I was thinking
about the Canyon,
I was so empty.
Thinking about the canyon
I was.

I sat on the rim at dawn,
let all the colors fill me.
It was cold. I saw my breath
like steam from a soup pot.
I saw small fossils in the gravel.
I saw how much world there was

how much darkness
could be swept out
by the sun.

This one's by Nancy Henry, from Our Lady of Let's All Sing.

Going HERE and taking a virtual trip to Paris.

And...finally. Listening to this song about 10 times. You better GO HERE NOW and have yourself a listen.

Dreaming Weather

This is Papa Moss with the rest of his brood sitting on our porch in Athens Greece circa 1964. I'm the little hobbit there on the left clasping my hands and grinning. Mama Moss must have been behind the camera. See the sister sitting next to me making the funny face. That's my Italian travel partner. See the dog hiding behind the pillar? That's Rusty. In 2001 I returned to Athens with a Greek friend. We drove all around one morning looking for my old house, but with no address and just Mama Moss' memory to guide us we didn't find it. Still...looking for it was awfully fun.

Like most of you, I enjoy old photographs. I like to imagine who was behind the camera. Take this photo for instance. I'm pretty sure it was taken on a bluff high above Astoria overlooking the Pacific on a blustery fall day oh, say 80 years ago or so.

Fellow bloggers have sent me some cool things lately. LISA sent me this ridiculously cool wallet.

ROBEN-MARIE sent me this bundle of goodies just because. I've been enjoying the rubberstamps a lot! And will you get a load of the labels she sent me!?

MARILYN left me a comment which had me zing-zipping over to her blog where I came across this hilarious post about donut chasers.

Then I made contact with another blogger from India. THIS is Bhavna's lovely blog.

Our steambath has ended here in LA. Our nights are back to being deliciously cool. The 80 degree days feel positively chilly. Perfect dreaming weather.

I thought I was finished, but decided to offer up these visual journal pages from my 2005 book.

Goodnight.

Miss Moss, I Made A Picture For You

1. map 2. "42", 3. halloween house, 4. The Peter Iredale 2, 5. A Little Bit of Amsterdam in Astoria, 6. Foggy Bridge, 7. Astorian Sunset, 8. long live liberty, 9. fog light in the forest

"On November 2, they drifted into the quiet upper reaches of tidewater on the Columbia. Clark, on November 7, wrote: Great joy in camp we are in View of the Ocian, this great Pacific Octean which we been So long anxious to See."

This from a book about Lewis & Clark's Expedition along the Missiouri & Columbia River. That was 200 years ago. And now I will be making my own Voyage of Discovery up to the wilds of Oregon in a few short weeks. I want to see with my own two eyes this wonderous place where the Columbia River empties into the Pacific Ocean. Astoria has grown in my imagination over the last year. I first read about her on a blog and was smitten. The little San Francisco of the Pacific Northwest. Who doesn't want to go there? Uh...I DO!

HERE'S an article from the New York Times about Astoria. And HERE is one that appeared in Sunset Magazine.

I've been dreaming about Astoria in my journal since last year. I made this page on Sunday. Bought my tickets on Monday. Portland & Astoria here I come. Oh dear, my 6 week vacation looms on the horizon. If I wipe the steamy window I can almost see it.

I decided against driving. I'm flying instead. I'm smiling as I imagine stepping out of this dry heat and into the moist coolness of the Pacific Northwest. The idea of 2 new beautiful places to explore thrills and delights me.

My mailart of a couple weeks back made it safely to Suzanne in Chicago.

I have a boy in my class who draws very well. The other kiddos always want him to illustrate their stories and draw pictures in their journals. He has a good eye for drawing things they way they appear. This is my other artist. No one asks him to draw anything for them, but that doesn't dampen his enthusiasm or uninhibited sketching one bit. I prefer his style of artmaking. I mean will you look at this!? This....this is a MASTERPIECE. Look at those long arms and meaty hands! Those determined lips. I like the way the face seamlessly blends into the dress. And oh look, feet like giant commas. There is madness in those eyes. What? You don't recognize me?

Breakfast With A Friend At A Cold Diner

Another scorching hot day in LA. This calls for breakfast with a friend at a cold diner. How does Norm's sound?

Can we stay all day?

No. There are other things to see. Strange and wonderful things. Look a Van Goghesque shop with wild swirling branches clinging to the walls!

With swishy blouses in the windows.

And silky frocks.

And magical stone pillows to rest while you sort out your purchases.

I must return to this place and make more photos when the sun isn't directly overhead.

Meanwhile at Moss Cottage, the cat possee sprawl on the cool bathroom tiles.

In the art room I work at my desk in the lukewarm air conditioning and sip a cold glass of tea. I stop occasionally to dab the sweat from my eyes.

In the early evening I move into the coolest part of the house to watch Volver and finish reading Astrid & Veronika. Heat or no heat, I do appreciate a day in my own company to do as I please.

1:22 pm 98 Degrees

Suffocating heat & humidity and a 14 hour long power outage put a damper on my 3-day weekend thrills. The power went out around 8 p.m. and didn't return until 10 a.m. this morning. It was kind of fun....for the first couple of hours. I wrote in my visual journal by the light of my camping lanterns and jumbo flashlights. Every door and window up here on my little hill was open wide. After awhile the cat posse retired to the tiled bathroom floor and I took a cold shower then collapsed on my warm bed to read.

Just before sundown I stepped outside to do a little bit of stenciling at my spraypaint station. Nice view, but I do wish these lovely clouds held some cold rain. Yesterday afternoon on my way home I saw an enormous wall of stiff white clouds surrounding the city. Then last night I spotted a few more clouds drift across the moon lit sky. Today more of the same. Plenty of dreamy clouds and hot air, but no rain in sight. Darn.

Enough of my pathetic weather woes, go here NOW and check out the sheer fabulousness that IS Ann Tracy.

Then maybe you'll want to do a little armchair traveling and head south of the border with JOHN . I like to keep track of the off-beat adventures he and his wife keep having. I also like to imagine myself becoming an ex-pat in my retirement years. I'm the only person I know who can't wait to turn 60.

I very much enjoyed finding THIS artist via Etsy this week. She hasn't updated since July, but since I dig her art so much I don't care.

Papercuts anyone? If you go HERE now you will not stop thanking me. Not today, or tomorrow, or even the next day. YES. He even has a BLOG