Remembering…

“The intense focus of art often transports me through a magic portal; time seems to stop as if I’ve stepped into another realm. Sometimes after a long session I am surprised to find that the day has weaned to night – or the night has weaned to morning.  Emerging from a painting trance is like awakening from a deep sleep.” Lisa B.

I have always painted best at night, especially in the city when late-night hours are even more silent than the natural forest!  The ongoing Covid risks have altered the rhythms of the city, and for that I am grateful.  After ten o’clock at night, the city slumbers.

October Big Day Night – Pacific Pygmy Owl – Poza Honda

Barn Owl – Portoviejo (at the back of the apartment there’s an abandoned building, and the owl often sleeps there in the daytime.)

In Poza Honda, three species of owls,  random frogs, insects and the faraway calls of the Limpkins provided a soothing nocturnal soundtrack.  When I paint in the apartment, I often play recordings made at Poza Honda.  Many times I emerge from my painting trance and am surprised to find that I’m in the city!

A Peregrine Falcon often perches on that tower.

In progress – “The Friendship Tree of Life.”

Friday night while painting I thought of two brothers who were classmates of mine. Flashing back in time, I pictured them taking turns skiing behind their boat. The vision was as strong as if it were yesterday, and it made me smile. I recalled their zest for life and how much they loved the outdoors -as did I.

The Mississippi River at Memphis – (Lake Whittington is an oxbow lake that connects to the Mississippi River.)

On Saturday a friend shared the sad news that one of those brothers had died while in the woods. (most likely a heart attack.) Steve was a good man – a very good man, and he will be missed.

Steve and his family were on my mind for the rest of the day – and night. Painting had no appeal, but my lifelong pal the pencil served me well. The pencil study seemed to absorb my numbness, and a pair of Variable Seedeaters slowly came to life.

Below is ‘stage one’ of the drawing, “Remembering Steve.”

“Remembering Steve” – 4B Pencil

(Because I am online in short and random sessions, Comments are off.   One day/week/month I’ll be able to catch up on comments.   Thanks to all of you for your support – you’re the best!   Love, Lisa)

 

Advertisement

The Invisible Fence

‘The memory is a living thing – it too is in transit. But during the moment, all that is remembered joins and lives – the old and the young, the past and the present, the living and the dead.’ – Eudora Welty – One Writer’s Beginnings

(This was written a few weeks ago ‘between painting sessions.’  Short internet checks have kept my communication skills hobbled, but it seems timely today to ignore the emails, the news updates (I am anxious to check – but will wait to post this.) I often realized my good fortune to have had so much practice with self-imposed isolation. This present marathon of isolation has barely affected my moods – as long as there are paints and brushes and pencils and books to occupy my time, I am happy. (I do miss my connection with nature.)

Even when recovering from the dengue-chikungunya co-infection in 2015, I realized that earlier ‘lessons’ had prepped me for enduring unexpected challenges. My first introduction to dengue happened in Costa Rica, about the time of the story that follows;  I realize now – that the USA is also suffering from a co-infection…  Having one virus is enough – add another serious challenge,  and the host faces a serious fight back to wellness.   The Covid 19 Pandemic presented enough challenges of its own, yet the ‘newest’ one has been simmering and smoldering.  I am not surprised that it ignited into a second heart-wrenching crisis. The scenes from yesterday’s cyber check made me cry, and with a sense of dread I will watch from afar as the racial tensions play out one day (and night) at a time.

This is titled, “The Invisible Fence” but has been incubating in my heart under the working title, ‘Whatever Happened to Dianne Wright?’   It’s another long epistle, so you’re warned. 

Jama Ecuador – Before & After

Tags

7.8 earthquake jama, earthquake, jama ecuador, Palo Santo Cafe, volunteer work in manabi

“Wherever there are birds, there is hope.”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

Jama, Ecuador –  Arriving in Jama just before dark, I was happy to see Luchy Cevallos unloading items from his car at Palo Santo Cafe.  “Lisa!!” he smiled, “Come in and have a cafe!”   I accepted on the condition that I share the tasks before they opened at 7.     He also prepared a pizza that we shared, and then he dashed to the cabanas to prepare #3 for me to spend the night.  Yay!

Business was brisk, and I suspected that each dime would help with repairs on his hostal.   When I left at ten, people were still visiting while enjoying good food at a very fair price.

I also took photos to compare before and after, so here’s an ‘after’ photo taken in front of Palo Santo…

Jama – in front of Palo Santo Cafe – Nov 2016 What’s missing?

Compare the photo above with one taken a few years earlier:

Jama Before –

More before/after comparasons:

Jama before – (Wear White for Peace)

Jama after earthquake – Luchy’s brother’s house is gone (to the right) as is a two-story house to the left…

Turning back time to 2008:  How well I remember walking the lazy streets of Jama as if I’d stepped into a time warp from my childhood.  Cowboys nudged their cattle along the streets at the end of the day.     The town slowly changed over the past seven years, but the April 16th earthquake turned Jama and neighboring areas upside down.

Many have shared their stories.

“…It began like the usual earthquakes – starting slowly, and we became aware – Earthquake – and assumed it would be finished in a few seconds. But it didn’t, and the slow subtle start sort of tricked us…   I was in the street outside my house when it happened… first it wasn’t scary – it was like a normal earthquake and then it got stronger. One house fell and then another and another… and I looked at our house and thought, “Please don’t fall…” – and it didn’t….   A few more minutes, and I think the house would have fallen down.”

Mending…

Tags

allergies in Latin America, coughs, snow in mississippi

Once uponce a time in a world far away (Mississippi!), November delivered a nagging cough, and it stayed with me until about March of each year. It arrived with the package of cold weather. Many people scoff and state, “Mississippi doesn’t have cold weather!” – but it does.

Late Februry 2015 – New Albany Mississippi – Photo by Charles Brunetti

Memories of ice storms and snow-swept landscapes marry well with other memories of burst water pipes that matched countless others when temperatures dropped below ten degrees Fahrenheit. I remember Mother awakening me with the words, “Look out your window,” and with joy in my heart I thought, “No school!” as I peered outside and admired the beauty of the snow.  I often caught my horse and rode through snow-covered landscape.

When I Grow Up…

Tags

central america, childhood dreams, costa rica, daily prompt, Ecuador

Nandayure/Guanacaste/ COSTA RICA

“Everyone on earth has a treasure that awaits him. We, people’s hearts, seldom say much about those treasures, because people no longer want to go in search of them. We speak of them only to children.   Later, we simply let life proceed, in its own direction, toward its own fate.” Paulo Coelho – The Alchemist

Years ago while I was visiting with expat friends and their on-vacation friends in Costa Rica, someone asked, “Did you ever dream when you were growing up that you’d live somewhere like this?”

Turning back time: Costa Rica – After the Competition

My mind peddled backwards, and within seconds I recalled a wanderlust dream from grammar school. I smiled wistfully and answered, “When I was in 5th grade, I wanted to live in Argentina and raise quarter horses.”

Ole Mississippi, She’s Calling My Name…

Tags

mississippi river bridge greenville, mississippi river natchez

The Mississippi River Bridge near Greenville, Mississippi and Lake Chicot, Arkansas

WordPress requested images of signs this week, and I’ve been snapping photos of road signs while traveling up and down that grand Mississippi River. Here are a few peeks of the river!

Timeout for Mississippi

Tags

cotton, cypress trees, lanterns on the mississippi, mississippi delta, soybean harvest, timeout for mississippi

Timeout for Mississippi has squeezed the Timeout for Art to the sidelines this week.  As you read William Percy’s words from his autobiography, “Lanterns on the Levee,” enjoy these images taken throughout the Mississippi Delta.

Cotton at its peak and awaiting harvest… Heavy rains at this critical time would ruin the crop.

“My country is the Mississippi Delta, the river country. It lies flat, like a badly drawn half oval, with Memphis at its northern and Vicksburg at its southern tip…

(Highway 61 near Clarksdale Misssissippi) Memphis is an hour behind in the rear view mirror and Vicksburg is hours and hours away at the other end of the road!

Its western boundary is the Mississippi River, which coils and returns on itself in great loops and crescents, though from the map you would think it ran in a straight line north and south. Every few years it rises like a monster from its bed and pushes over its banks to vex and sweeten the land it has made…

Soybeans near Clarksdale

For our soil, very dark brown, creamy and sweet-smelling, without substrata of rock or shale, was built up slowly, century after century, by the sediment gathered by the river in its solemn task of cleansing the continent and deposited in annual layers of silt on what must once have been the vast depression between itself and the hills.

Near Yazoo City Mississippi

Near Yazoo City, Mississippi

This ancient depression, now filled in and level, is what we call the Delta. Some say it was the floor of the sea itself. Now it seems still to be a floor, being smooth from one end to the other, without rise or dip or hill, unless the mysterious scattered monuments of the mound-builders may be called hills…

TIMEOUT FOR ART: Capturing Memories

Tags

farm equipment art, timeout for art capturing memories, union county mississippi museum, william faulkner quotes, wooden totem poles

Pencil – 1993 -Hen with chicks beneath forsythia…

The aim of every artist is to arrest motion, which is life, by artificial means and hold it fixed so that a hundred years later, when a stranger looks at it, it moves again since it is life. – William Faulkner

The above drawing hangs on a butterscotch-painted wall in my son’s kitchen. When I recently looked at it, memories of that long-ago 1993 pre-spring day came flooding back, and we were once again at No Mistake Plantation in Yazoo County. Charles had injured his ankle during a sports event, and we were sitting on the grounds of a daylily farm and soaking in the warm rays of sunshine. The hen ambled along with her chicks, fluffed out her feathers and settled into a comfortable pose not far from where we sat. The pencil drawing captured the moment much better than any camera, and the memories were branded with each stroke of the pencil.

New Albany (Mississippi) Heritage Museum

A few days ago I visited the Union County Heritage Museum in New Albany, Mississippi, and the back gardens provided an abundance of artsy material.  They will represent the first of many attempts to capture the essence of Mississippi!

Enjoy the walk through the gardens, and don’t forget to apply mosquito repellent!

Z

Planes, Trains and Automobiles…

Tags

city of new orleans, travel on amtrak new orleans mississippi

Hi from Mississippi!

Coming up for a fast gulp of cyber air, I am thrilled to upload photos in less than a minute instead of several hours!

The flights from Guayaquil Ecuador to Quito, and from Quito to Houston went well; after hearing that grand, “Welcome back,’ greeting at immigration, I boarded a flight to New Orleans.  Landing there 12 hours after leaving Guayaquil, I received a second ‘Welcome Back’ greeting from a friend, Danny Bond, who drove from Gulfport for a fast visit before I made the last leg of my journey.

After checking in at the Amtrak station and confirming a seat on the 1:30 ‘City of New Orleans,’ we visited several salvage shops crammed with antiques and relics from old houses. Hundreds of old wooden doors and wavy-glassed windows, claw footed tubs and wooden mantles triggered creative ideas, and I asked Danny if my family had paid him to take me to those places to tempt me to move back!

The $50.00 six-hour Amtrak journey from New Olreans to Greenwood Mississippi was surely the best travel value for the year!    There is so much to share, but for now, enjoy the views from the City of New Orleans!

“Welcome Back”

“Welcome back,” a straight-faced immigration officer often says when he returns my just-stamped passport.

Those two unexpected words always touch my heart, and I reply with a heartfelt, ‘Thank you’ and legally enter the United States of America.

Are the agents required to say that to all returning citizens, or am I just lucky to be greeted with those words?

Quito International Airport (Arrivals) – Hey, I think I know those people! Hank and Marie Groff (pictured above) illustrate their mastery of positive airport experiences.

After placing my passport back in its proper place and double checking the boarding pass gate details for my connecting flight, I proceed to baggage claim – if needed – and then follow the maze of signs.

While preoccupied with flight arrivals and departures, one rarely has time to notice the other travelers and workers in the airport setting. Many times when I step on that ‘this will get you there a bit faster’ moving-floor option, I always look at my fellow travelers. Few people are smiling. When eye contact is made, I quickly smile or grin before they have a chance to look away, as if one might be arrested if caught interacting with a stranger!

There are other reasons to stay serious while navigating airports; those little bullet trams demand intense focus – to confirm you’re getting on the right one as a computerized voice reminds you to stand away from the door. Most of the people seem catatonic, as if any personal interaction might cause them to fall from the tram or miss their flight.

Long long ago, a 4-H judge awarded me top prize in showmanship after my ‘runaway steer’ pulled me around the arena. The judge quietly said, “Honey, don’t you EVER lose that smile.”

Realizing that I am also caught up in the hamster cage, I release that clenched-jaw tension and smile. I smile to remind myself that the world will not stop if I miss my flight. I then try to pass that smile to others and remind them to savor the moment. To watch someone’s tightened expression suddenly transform into a light-hearted smile touches my heart. There are times when a tired irritable toddler refuses to stop crying. When possible, I look into his/her eyes and ask, ‘Hey! What’s wrong? I’ll bet you are tired. Or hungry.’   That almost always halts the crying, and the child adjusts to the unexpected encounter (distraction!) with the stranger.

Surely these children were obediently sitting with orders not to move! They did not want to smile either!

If English is not their primary language, I then start chattering in English, and the child looks at me as if I am the star attraction of the circus! I talk for about a minute, then tell the child, ‘Goodbye!’ and go on my way. Almost always, the tears and heavy heart are forgotten, and the airwaves remain blissfully peaceful as the child and baffled parents wonder, ‘Who was that grinning woman?”

Some days my inner smile expands so much that I wonder if my heart might burst, and during those times of self-inspection, I worry that I might cry. Why is it so easy for me to find joy in the everyday experience of Life, and why is it so difficult for others? I do not know why, but I am grateful that through the random luck of the genes that make me ‘Z’ – I have evolved into a very happy person.

2011- Brookhaven Airport (Mississippi) Surely the man didn’t just say, “You can use it as the courtesy car”!!!

This next month I will be traveling back to the alluvial flatlands of my childhood – the Mississippi Delta and surrounding area.

Atypical of my usual WordPress writing style, I will be observing and recording my thoughts with pen and paper and will pause every so often to transcribe and share with you. A month is not a long time when the circle of my loved ones stretches from the Gulf Coast to Memphis, across the Mississippi River to Little Rock Arkansas and back down to Natchez.