Gaian Tarot Artist's Journal

Gracie in April: Sun, Rain, Snow & Painting

Craig and I spent the last few days in Maine, visiting our granddaughter Gracie, and her parents of course!  Gracie is talking up a storm these days and has become her own little person. She was a joy to be around.  I'm already looking forward to October, when we'll see her again.  (More photos found here.)

A walk around the neighborhood in the bright sunshine. 

Revised Child of Water: Grandbaby Gracie

 I think I mentioned before that I decided to revise certain cards where I used a purchased stock photo as the main photo reference, because I'm concerned grey areas in the contract with the stock photo company. I'm playing it safe. Besides, my granddaughter Grace had not been born when I painted the Children a few years ago. This is based on a photo I took of her last spring, when she was about 16 months old. I transplanted her from a sandy beach in Maine to a rocky Northwestern beach.  

Today is my birthday, and next Tuesday is Gracie's second birthday.  Happy Birthday to us Cappies!  :-D

Hope you like the new Child of Water.

Reflecting on 2009: What Goes Down Must Come Up

(Warning: this is a long post, but it’s a juicy one.)

This is the story of how my personal experience of 2009 began in near-disaster and ended in something resembling triumph. Today I reread my blog posts for the whole year, month by month, to see what kind of theme I might discover. What a doozy of a year! It was a Wheel of Fortune year for me, in Tarot parlance, and there were indeed dramatic ups and downs. 

I signed a contract with Llewellyn in December 2008 for the Gaian Tarot, and I had a whole year to finish the deck and book. This gave me some breathing room, or so I thought. In January there was a lot of drama in my family with an elderly cousin who went missing, and more drama around our finances and housing situation. The recession hurt Craig and I badly because of our investment in the real estate market (we owned two houses when the recession hit, with a legal commitment to buy a third. The two houses were for sale for months, with no takers). We were sliding towards foreclosure on one of the houses, as well as possibly losing the house we were living in. Several of my posts in January had to do with finding ways to keep one’s equilibrium and peace of mind during difficult times. (For those of you who have asked: a year later, the police are still investigating my cousin’s disappearance.)

Grandma & Gracie

I'm sitting in the Portland airport, waiting for my flight home.  I've had four full days with my granddaughter Gracie.  Can't even begin to express how she fills my heart.  At 21 months, she's talking up a storm.  I think we really cemented our relationship during this visit.  I'll be back in three months for her second birthday.  She's a Capricorn like me!

The Sun - Gaian Tarot Card of the Week

What do I most need to know about my experience at the Readers Studio?

The Sun

Now, there’s a fabulous card to pull for the coming conference.  Joy, happiness, dancing, gratitude, shining like the sun.   My roommate Julie Cuccia-Watts just pulled this card for me and I thank her for it!  It’s an especially good omen for both of us, don’t you think?

One of the things I noticed while I was in Maine was how happy I felt.  It was mostly due to being around the kids, especially Gracie.  Nothing like spending time with your grandchild to have your heart open wide like a sunflower, turning its head toward the sun. Time slowed down, too.  Everything revolved around Gracie’s schedule and there were hours when there was nothing to do but go for walks, read books, play with crayons.  I felt so blessed and grateful to have that time away from my usual packed schedule.  A clue to happiness:  living a slow, mindful life.  I’d like to bring more of that back into my life when I get home.

The more I meditate on the Sun card, the more I think its message for us is to really consider the source of our happiness.  What truly makes you happy?  What brings you joy?  How can you incorporate more of it into your life this week?

I always look forward to hearing what you have to say, dear readers.

Travels East: Maine, Brooklyn and the Readers Studio

(Photo:  Grandma Joanna & Gracie)

Last week I headed to Maine and spent several days with my son Steve, daughter-in-law Jenn and granddaughter Grace (age 15 months).  Craig came too.  We are both just totally nuts about that little girl.  We went for walks, played with crayons and read books, went to Saturday morning story time at the local library, went to playgrounds, went to a big sandy beach . . . and soon it was time to leave again.  We'll be back in the fall.  I put up lots of photos from our trip on Facebook — you should be able to see the photo album even if you're not on Facebook.  

(Photo: Joanna & Kris at the Cafe Clinton)

On Monday, Craig flew home and I headed for Brooklyn.  I visited with Kris Waldherr and Diane Saarinen.  I've known them both online for years but this was the first in-person visit.  They gave me the grand tour of their town, and what a beauty it is.  My friend Debbie Lake came over from Manhattan and joined us at Kris' gallery and studio, where we had a grand time talking art and publishing.  More photos of my Brooklyn visit here. 

Earlier today I made it over to Debbie's apartment in Midtown and shopped for a few necessities, like green juice.  And now I'm at the Newark Sheraton, sharing a room with Julie Cuccia-Watts and resting up for the big event, the Readers Studio.  The excitement is building!

Waiting

If you've been following me on Twitter or Facebook, you know that I flew to southern California on Friday to be with my mother's family during a time of crisis.  My elderly cousin has been missing since last Tuesday under suspicious circumstances.  After running through my own emotions of shock, disbelief, rage, horror and grief, I moved into a place of calm purposefulness.  I'm here in support of my cousin whose mother is missing.  I'm grounding all the swirling, complex emotions flying all around.  I'm making sure we eat good food, keep hydrated, get out into the fresh air, get some exercise, breathe deep.  I'm finding homeopathic sleep aides.  I'm doing my best to stay grounded and centered myself.  

I'll be here for the next few days.  If anyone feels so inclined, we would deeply appreciate your prayers or focused attention for my cousin to be found; for resolution, for justice, for peace.   Thank you.

Advent-of-the-Sun Calendar: Solstice Day!

And on Solstice Day, my true love sent to me . . .

A song & slideshow from our family to yours.

Click here to play a Quicktime movie (high res version) or click here for the YouTube version.

“In the Deep Midwinter” performed by Craig Olson

Music by Gustav Holst (1906)

Lyrics by Christina Rossetti (1872), revised by Craig Olson (2006)

Photography Credits:

Snow scenes by Catherine Kerr and Joanna Powell Colbert

Interior scenes by Paul Bingman, Chele Eva Armstrong and Joanna Powell Colbert

All Soul's Night

 

Last night our friends gathered to honor the changing tide and to remember our loved ones now on the other side of the veil.  We built this altar for our ancestors.  Isn't it beautiful?  Thanks to Chele for such a gorgeous photo (click on it to see a larger version.)

Earlier in the day, Betsy and I set up little shrines along the loop trail in our woodsy backyard.  Craig raked the leaves, laid out rope lights along the path and sprinkled sand on slippery flagstones.  Deb & Michael brought torches, and those were lit at each station, to illuminate the shrines.  Even though we live in semi-suburbia, our third-acre lot backs up to five acres of woods and the mountain beyond. So after nightfall, it was quite dark, isolated and very magical.  

A light rain and breeze rustled up the leaves. After singing chants inside the house, we walked in procession outside, carrying candles and offerings.  Humming "when we are gone, they will remain; earth and wind, fire and rain . . . "  we stopped at each shrine to offer a stone, a shell, a necklace, a bit of chocolate, a handful of nuts.  Honoring the spirits of the land and the spirits of our Beloved Dead who hovered oh so close, a whisper on the wind.  

Preparing for All Hallows

Since my return from the east coast, I've been immersed in a large web redesign project for my Main Client and working very long hours on it.  I get on a roll, just like I do with artwork and the longer I work the faster it goes. 

But I get kind of stuck in CodeLand.  I even dream about it and often wake up with the solution to a thorny code problem.  Seems like everything else fades away and when I look up and realize what I've been missing, I get cranky.  No artwork, no introspection, no long walks.  Just code.

Of course I've also been consumed by election news and have been reading too many political blogs and tweets, and religiously watching CNN & MSNBC with a little Fox thrown in for color.

So I'm partially taking today and tomorrow off, since these are High Holy Days.  I'm about to start cleaning my house, literally and ritually, then I'll build a Hallows altar and an Ancestor altar.  I'll get outside for awhile too, during the rain breaks. Or maybe I'll just go outside while it's raining and get soaked.  A hot shower afterwards will feel great.  Craig and I will carve a pumpkin and set it on the doorstep.  We'll be ready for the trick or treaters come nightfall; it will be the first time at this house so we have no idea how many to expect.  I'll miss seeing all the island kids I know coming to the door of Heron House.  Then it will be time for a little late night divination and introspection.

Tomorrow night a few friends will gather here to mark the Turning of the Wheel towards Winter.  We'll walk the backyard loop by candlelight, scuffling through downed cedar and maple leaves. We'll leave offerings at scattered outdoor altars, Stations of the Pentacle.  Back inside, we'll share photos and stories of our beloved dead. Then we'll spend the rest of evening reading cards and runes for each other, feasting and drumming and weaving tight the threads of community.  

But this morning, I am missing my beloved dead.  Pop, 1915-2006.   Mom, 1917-1984.  My son Jake, 1974-1990.  My friend Helen, 1948-1994.

Love you all.  Miss you all.

Blessed be.