Alaska's Inside Passage

It looks like any other airport. “Maybe this one is a little smaller,” I think. I pass out of Security and make my way towards baggage claim. Slowly the escalator descends. Foot by foot, a floor to ceiling wall of windows is revealed.

Snow capped mountains - Juneau, Alaska

Wow! Before me is a grand vista of majestic snow capped mountains. It's like a Cinerama. I'm living large. I'm in Juneau, Alaska.

Often cloudy mist hugs the valleys

Weather changes throughout the day.
Here the sky dazzles with a mix of bright blue and clouds.
I think it begs to be painted.

For the next 10 days, I'll board a ship touring the Southwest corner of Alaska's Inland Passage. Our ship is a small one – about 126 feet.  She can hold 30 passengers, but I'll have just 18 cohorts plus crew on this trip.

Kayaking back to the Island Spirit

 They like to call it an un–cruise like a B&B on water. We'll be able to slip into coves where larger cruise ships holding 2000+ cannot imagine going. I'm psyched for the adventure.

An on-board naturalist promises sightings of eagles, whales, porpoise and maybe even a few bears. Captain Jeff tells us that we're on our way to Ford's Terror.

Looking towards Ford's Terror

It's an exceptionally narrow passage. An early explorer got trapped in churning water when the tide turned and rushed out. His name was Ford and consequently the name – Ford's Terror. 

Take a video tour here - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x0T6XCM0Tig

We'll ride in on a high tide and hopefully out on the same.

Right now, we're traveling up a fjord called Endicott Arm. The small ship goes slow as we dodge chunks of ice – small icebergs actually. Excitement on the deck grows as we take pictures. One passenger jokes about lifeboats and the Titanic. “Where are the violin players?” I'm glad we had a safety briefing.

Stunningly beautiful flows of ice

Off in the distance is the massive ice wall of Dawes Glacier. Strangely it's colored in shades of aqua and blue. I've never seen anything like that color in nature before.

Distant Dawes Glacier is still moving mountains

  The captain tells us that he will inch forward to within a quarter mile, but dares not go further. He's not so concerned about ice falling or calving, as they say, but being struck by a shooter coming up from below.

Takea look here - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d882cKZIwZ8  Believe me ¼ mile is close enough...simply breath taking.

That night we make the tide into Ford's Terror and drop anchor for the night. The ship is equipped with massive batteries which have been storing energy all day and now the engines are silenced. What remains is Alaskan wilderness just like native people heard – Wind and a near-by waterfalls cascading from cliffs above. I crack my window to let the sounds and cool air flow in. I'm in the wilderness.

Days are filled with kayaking. I paddle to the foot of a waterfalls and get to withing 10 feet of it's splashing descent. The mist sweeps across my face and I spot a small rainbow. My spirit grins.

Alaska is a magical place.  With so much plastic, concretre and asphalt in modern life, being here realigns the senses.  Peer into the water and it's crystal clear.  Smell the air and there's no hint of diesel fumes.  Listen to the breeze sweep across mountains.  Feel the sun peek from behind a puffy cloud and warm your face.  Alaska is massive as well as nuanced with so many experiences.  I'm beginning to realize that I'm only skimming the surface.

But oh my, how I'm enjoying this adventure.

Overhead I see eagles soaring. One lands on a tree and I decide to paddle closer. The eagle tolerates my approach as I marvel at the bird's grandeur.

Our naturalist tells us that eagles are at the top of their food chain. Since the banning of DDT, they have re-established themselves. What an eagle wants, an eagle gets.  I decide to paddle on.

On another day, I'm paddling around an island when I hear a whooshing sound. Humpback whales are surfacing in the distance.  The sound I hear are their blow holes.  Suddenly, I hear and see a humpback surface about 300 feet from the bow of my kayak.  Talk about being up close and personal.  I decide to keep my distance as best I can and watch him gently surface and feed on herring. It's a remarkable sight.

Afterward I just drift along listening to the world around me. It's a cacophony of bird sounds puntuated by a distant whoosh.  Delicate and beautiful. I'm feeling one with nature now.

Each day I paint a watercolor in my journal. I discovered last year when I went to the Pine Ridge and the Lakota Tribe that it's a good way to soak in experiences. It's my way of feeding the spirit. As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. Here are a few of the sketches that I produced.

It's a clear day and distant mountains gleam with snow

Sea Lions fill the rock island.  Each bull has a harem of 15-20.
They are very possessive as we learn when we get too close. 

A small one gravel street village with a year-round population of 35.
No cars.  Bikes rule except for the fire truck.  

Twilight fills the sky, land and water with color

Even with pictures in watercolors, my Alaskan adventure cannot be easily shared. It's more than mountains and wilderness, more than ice and waterfalls, more than mammals below or birds above.

I think Alaska gives a glimpse into mystery beyond words and images. It shows me nature's power to both create and destroy.  It transports me into the magnificent cycle of life and death and re-creation or might we say resurrection.

For millennium, glaciers have either moved forward taking giant boulders along for the ride or retreated calving icebergs into the watery seas. Now many are rapidly receding hundreds of feet each year. Creation and destruction are battling within the blue ice.

Humpback whales cooperate with one another. They leave solitary feeding to create a circle of bubbles deep under the water. This bubble ring corrals herring into large clumps so that they can be more easily eaten. I witness the frenzy of life and death swimming in the water.

Moored in remote coves, I see jagged snow capped mountains reflected in pristine waters. Waterfalls cascade across their face cutting grooves and eventually deep fjords into the granite. I think that even these mighty mountains will one day be made low. Nothing in nature and life remains the same.

With Mendenhall Glacier receding more than a football field each year,
Nugget Falls now gushes down the mountain. 

As I soak in the environment around me, a grand metaphor comes to mind.  Being in Alaska is like brushing up against the mysteries of eternity. When that happens, I think we are never quite the same.

Chevy Chase Art Exhibit

Life has a way of surprising me again and again.  Here I am standing in a room filled with artists and their friends.  It’s the opening night of an art exhibit organized by the Fine Arts Council of the Chevy Chase Citizens Association. 

I’m here with eight other artists from the Van Ness Housing Coop.  It’s the first time we have been brought together to exhibit.  It’s fun to meet and greet one another.  One woman says, “With so many of us at Van Ness, we ought to have ourselves an artist saloon.”  Maybe it will happen and usher in another surprise.

  

Around the perimeter of the room hang our paintings.   There are oils and acrylics - mostly abstractions.  They grab attention with their powerful strokes of bold color.  By contrast, there’s a soft pastel.  It depicts friends talking.  I’m struck by expressions and their eyes.  Some connect and others stare blankly beyond the painting.  I wonder to myself, “If pictures could talk, what stories would be told.” 

Watercolorists are well represented with four of us in the show.  Each has a distinct style.  Several use a line and wash technique combining ink pen drawing with delicate watercolor washes.  My friend Marguerite has done some delightful street scenes from Provence France.  You can view some of her work on her blog  http://inkpaintwords.wordpress.com/   

A new friend Martine has a whimsical painting of two cats perched on a windowsill.  They’re intent on every movement of a red bird feeding outside. More of her work can be viewed at http://martineart.webs.com/

It’s wonderful to be here among these artists.  A few years ago it would have been unimaginable.  I was just dabbling with watercolors.  Sure I went to some classes in Boston and Maine.  I even got to go to workshop in Andalusia, Spain.  It was a lot of fun, but through it all I lacked an understanding of basic techniques. My painting was hit and misses and often I missed. 

    

All this changed when I began to teach.  A teacher needs to know his material.  I spent many hours dissecting techniques and painting them one step at a time.  During my Peace Corps Service in Ukraine, long winter nights were filled with practice and then more practice.  My own art work got a lot better as I understood more about basic techniques.  Soon I began teaching classes to aspiring artist and enjoying every moment of it.

I submitted four paintings and three were accepted for the exhibit. 

Maine Winter is from memory, but inspired by my life in Maine.  Often I drove a road in South Portland and viewed the distant city from across the frozen harbor.   Of course the cluster of pines in the painting is a way of identifying with Maine, the Pine Tree State.

 

English Cottage is an painting I made for an Internet contest.  They supplied a photograph as jumping off place.  I then decided to add a second building nestled into the trees.  Do you see the line and wash technique?   I like the way the sky formed.  It uses what is commonly called wet-into-wet. 

A friend asks, “How did you paint that?”  We talk about the unique characteristics of watercolor.  “For sure it can be difficult, but there’s magic too”, I say.  “Unlike other media, watercolor flows and mixes on the paper.  It’s spontaneous and somewhat unpredictable. 

I liken it to having a dance partner. One leads and the other follows and sometimes roles are reversed.  When I lay a wash across the paper, it’s like gliding into a first step and then waiting for my partner to responds.  On and on we go responding to one another.  I think that’s why I like watercolors.  You never know exactly where you’re going to end up.  So many surprising things can happen – just like life.”

Winter Glow comes from my imagination, but is informed by my memory of Ukraine.  Ukraine can be so very cold and it has an abundance of birch trees.  The glow from the depths of the forest is a mystery.  Is it a sunrise, sunset, fire or some other glow?  Like the mystery that is Ukraine, it awaits interpretation.

Right now the room is filling up.  About a dozen of my friends have come to show support.  I'm delighted.  Ben, a Peace Corps friend, is here too.  I jokingly call him my patron because he commissioned a painting last Christmas.  

Lots of people are circulating and looking at the variety of art.  Several indicate an interest in mine and ask for a card.  Fortunately, I made up a few just so that I would be prepared.  I haven’t sold any.  But who knows, I may be surprised.  The exhibit will be up for a month. 

When I served in Ukraine, I got a chance to teach leadership skills to young leaders of the Country’s emerging civic society.  I remember saying that before you start a new project, it helps to imagine it. 

I said, “It’s like your first step happens in the mind.”  I encouraged them to take time to envision outcomes and let their minds feel the contours of what they were about to start.  It’s like Stephen Covey writes in his Seven Habits of Highly Effective People.   “Begin with your end in mind.”

Last New Year’s, I was thinking about finding a way to show some of my art.  I thought about scoping out coffee shops and various restaurants.  I began imaging my work on public display.   But before I could take further steps, I got a letter - “We would like to invite you to participate in the exhibition program of the Fine Arts Committee of the Chevy Chase Citizen’s Association....”  

It’s amazing how life can surprise you just as you begin to think about starting something new.   

Pine Ridge Reservation, South Dakota

“Did Jesus ever sand wood?"  Random thoughts flow in and out of consciousness as I sand parts for a bunk bed project at Re-Member, a volunteer organization on Pine Ridge Reservation.  http://www.re-member.org .

In a remarkable way, life has taken me to Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota. A year ago, I had never heard of the place. But then newly home from the Peace Corps, I picked up a biography about Bobby Kennedy and began reading. 

I learned that one of the last stops before Kennedy’s assassinated was at Pine Ridge Reservation. Back then, it was one of the most poverty stricken areas of the country and remains so. Kennedy shunned press as he visited families. He spent most of the afternoon in one to one conversations. It’s most surprising that he spent this time while the California Primary, a cliff hanger, was pending. I was moved and registered the name, Pine Ridge. 

Then a few months later, I was flipping TV channels and happened upon Diane Sawyer’s program. She was doing a piece on Pine Ridge.

http://abc.go.com/watch/2020/SH559026/VD55148316/2020-1014-children-of-the-plains 

What’s amazing to me is that I never watch Diane Sawyer and here I am watching a show about Pine Ridge. 

Some more time passes. I’m a regular NPR listener in the morning. Surprisingly, I hear a segment about the foster children’s program in South Dakota. It seems that South Dakota Child Welfare gets a subsidy for every Indian child they have in the system creating an incentive to break up native families just like it was routinely done in the 19th century. The story focuses on …Pine Ridge. 

http://www.npr.org/2011/10/25/141662357/incentives-and-cultural-bias-fuel-foster-system 

Three times in a row Pine Ridge surfaces in my consciousness when in over 60 years of life, it had never appeared. What’s going on? 

Then finally, good friends from Maine, who have gone on work projects to help Katrina families, tell me that they are thinking of going on another work project. Where? Pine Ridge, of course. I can be dense at times, but eventually I get the message. I say, “I hear ya…Sign me up. I’m going to Pine Ridge!”

Pine Ridge is locally known as the “Rez.” It’s what’s left of the land that Lakota people inhabited for millennia. Once, a proud people followed the buffalo from the Missouri River on the East to the great Rockies on the West. They inhabited the unfenced and flowing prairies of this great land. Now in comparison, they are herded onto a postage stamp.

I’m sanding wood with a dozen other volunteers. We've come from Michigan, Wisconsin, and Maine. For a week we will reside in dormitories at Re-Member, work on projects and learn. Native speakers give us a grad school introduction to Lakota ways, culture and history. It’s eye-opening to say the least. 

Days begin early. It’s up before dawn taking turns in the communal bathrooms – one for females and another for males.  Mostly, it works because people are here not for the accommodations, but for the service and learning. 

Ted, Re-Member’s Director, asks us to conserve water. There’s been no rain for months. The water table is low and the pump is stressed from 34 groups coming and going throughout the summer is showing. “Try to keep showers to less than 3 minutes, if you can,” Ted suggests. Not bad advice for water use anywhere. 

After breakfast we gather for “Wisdom of the Elders.” Ted reads quotes and tells stories from Native Leaders. Often insightful, many of us jot down notes for later reflection. I scan the walls looking at pictures of Sitting Bull, Red Cloud, Rain-in-the-Face, Little Big Man and others native leaders. I imagine them speaking through what seems like a deep sadness in their eyes. 

A computer printout of Treaty Titles cascades down the wall. It’s more than 500 titles long. Most were broken by the American Government. Red Cloud said, "They made us many promises, more than I can remember, but they never kept but one; they promised to take our land, and they took it."

Here’s an excellent TED Talk - http://youtu.be/8tEuaj4h8dw Take a few moments to re-member our history. 

A picture of a boy stares from a shelf behind Ted’s left shoulder. As I listen, I wonder what happened to him? If he lived into old age, what wisdom might he have spoken? If not, was he another victim of Manifest Destiny and Indian removal? 

Our days are used to contribute to ongoing work projects. One group is working on an innovative housing method that’s rooted in traditional ways – a straw house. Its’ constructed with square bales of straw overlaid with a clay mud mixture. It’s cheap materials, but labor intensive. Another group skirts a trailer with insulated paneling. It’s on-your-hands-and-knees work, but considering the energy savings, it’s worth it and tangible help to families. 

My group is cutting and sanding parts for bunk beds. Families are often doubled and even tripled up. Too many children have no bed to call their own. Imagine. We make 7 beds in two days. On the third day, we deliver them to homes. Each delivery is complete with sheets, blanket and quilt or comforter. There’s even a box of bed-time stories so that mothers and children can pick a few. 

A child beckons a volunteer towards her new bunk bed. She sits there stroking the smooth sheet and points to a stack of books under the bed. “Mine,” she says.

I think about all the hands that make these beds possible and the children who sleep in a safe place. I find myself wondering again – “Did Jesus ever sand wood?” Maybe he did, but more importantly he lived by healing, sharing kindness and seeking justice for the small and forgotten. I get emotional and deep in thought. 

As we return to Re-Member, an intense dust storm kicks in. White-out swirls make it nearly impossible to see the road. It feels other worldly. 

Finally we turn and I see the Re-Member sign through the dust.   I think I understand why I am here. Through life we collect a lot of dust and clutter. But sometimes we're forced to see a sign and remember. There’s is a lot to remember at Pine Ridge and now maybe something I can do.
<<------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------>>

 On Pine Ridge, we take a hike to an area known as The Sanctuary.  My prayer is this painting.  

Wounded Knee is a place where native people were massacred on December 29, 1890 . 

Here's the trench where women and children were killed.  

New People, Art and Adventures

A year has passed since completing my Peace Corps service.  I've settled nicely into a one bedroom apartment in Washington, DC.  Gradually I have transformed the blank white walls into a colorful nesting spot where I can live a new adventure, nurture new friendships and create art.  


Ukraine remains close in my memory.  Most mornings when I take a shower, I quickly wet down, turn off the water and soap up.  I's a ritual that reminds me how I lived for many months without hot water and still had a wonderful life. As I start my day,  It keeps me mindful of others round the world who may not even have water.  And as my young friend, Bob, says, "It's green too!"


I have been trying to spend time most weeks on art.  This summer I joined others at the Chevy Chase Community Center just to do art together for a few hours.  Wonderfully, it has encouraged me to try new things and to grow in my abilities.   Last week the Center's Director invited me to submit a proposal for a class this Fall.  I think I will do it.  I always enjoy teaching and nothing is better for learning than to have students.


It's amazing how you get to meet people and discover fellow artists.   The landscape consultant for my coop association happened upon my patio.  I had been meaning to contact him but hadn't gotten around to it.  There he was as I was finishing my morning oatmeal.  


He complimented me on cleaning up the weeds from the perennials and creating new flower beds.  I told him about my Maine garden and how I was so excited now to have a space in the city where I could still garden.


We talked gardens for a long time.  I mentioned a few shrubs that needed trimming.  He asked if I needed more mulch.  We were like two kids who just discovered common interests.  The real surprise was as he was leaving and with one foot over the half wall ready to walk away, he said that he dabbled into a little watercolors.


Well!  That relaunched our conversation.  I invited him inside.  I showed him pictures including one that I recently entered into a competition.  I told him it was a first for me and while I did not expect to win, it was great to have the confidence to put a painting of mine out there.  He understood completely.    

Here's the picture I submitted. 
 http://pinterest.com/arttutor/launch-challenge-2-watercolour-line-and-wash-engli/   
While I did not win, it is posted along with many other entrants.  I am very pleased.  

After an hour, Rob left and I got to thinking.  While in Ukraine, I had so many adventures.  I met new people here, there and everywhere with many remaining friends.  Maybe life in America is more predictable and certainly way more comfortable, but adventure still happens.  New people.  New friendships.  New chances to be in love with life.  

Inspired by Spring time birch trees in Ukraine.  

Waves and ocean grab our primal soul in powerful ways.  I gave this a try after reviewing a lesson on the Internet.  

Spring is always close in the imagination.  

Living in Washington gives me the chance to view cherry blossoms at their peak.  

A rose is a rose is a rose...

Florida, Art and Family

It's a last moment trip to Florida.  My younger brother, Pete, has moved to the sunshine state.  For many years, his retirement dream was to have a home on the water.  Now he's living his dream complete with a sail boat and beautiful sunsets.

He tells me that he will be welcoming baby Alice the newest member of our extended family.  I cannot resist the invitation and quickly make plans.  Off to Florida I go.

Looking across the grand canal, Cape Coral, Florida.  Congratulations, Pete, and may you enjoy many satisfying years.

Nothing says Florida as well as palm trees.

When I returned from Florida, I posted a quick watercolor sketches on my apartment door.

Early morning with breezes  gently swaying the palm branches overhead. 

A photo captures the beauty of a moment and becomes inspiration for another watercolr.  

The textures and colors of the dunes at dusk.  Relax and watch the sun go down.

Rita, my niece, and Bill came for a visit.  They are living in SF with their new daughter.  Mom and Dad cuddle baby Alice.  Of course, she is adorable.  

Winter Art

I never thought I would say this, "I'm missing winter." After two years in Ukraine, you might think I had enough of snow and ice. But here I am in Washington DC with temperatures in the 50s and 60s and only a few below freezing. Last week it was warm enough to have a picnic in a park and I did.

Yikes, it's January!

Maybe to compensate for the unusual weather, I've been creating snow scenes in my art. It's been a lot of fun and I feel like I'm improving week by week.  I started with scanning my photos of Maine winters for inspiration.  These two take me back to my wonderful years in Portland.  Then I heard on the radio that Portland was surprised by below zero or maybe not so surprised.  I remember... Mainiacs seem to take it in stride even as they sigh, "Here we go again."

Original photos of Mainer winter

My first painting is a small one about 5" x 8". People often ask, "Where's it from?"  Of course the best thing about watercolors is that pictures come from the imagination.

Original Watercolor - Winter Walk

I remember the birch trees that are ubiquitous in Ukraine as well as Maine.  I looked through the web for inspiration and pulled together this painting.  I like the glow of color that also leaves a viewer wondering, "Is it the sun rising or setting or is it a fire or ...?"

Original Watercolor - Winter Glow

I took this photo in Ukraine.  It was a cold crisp day when the sun was so bright that the shadows turned blue.  I wanted to give a watercolor life to the photo and express my own feelings.  It looks easy to do, but believe me it is not.  It took me three attempts to get the blue wash smooth enough and the shadow acceptable - not too light or too dark, but just right.  Here's my rendition.

Original Watercolor - Winter Blue

I love winter storms.  Well...let me be more precise.  I love the first winter storm.  When I lived in Maine, I would snap on my snow shoes and go for long walks in the woods.  In Ukraine necessity meant you walked everywhere.  Maybe it's the kid in me but when the snow is whistling across a field I feel exurberant and so wonderfully alive.  Of course by March, I've had enough.  Yet in both Ukraine and Maine, winter has plenty more to dish out.

Original Watercolor - Winter Storm

Painting has become a kind of New Year resolution for me.  I sent several photos of my work to friends in Ukraine. As they replied with Happy New Year wishes, they also encouraged me to keep creating.   I think that's what I most like about watercolors.  I face a blank sheet of paper with only an idea in my head.  I mix some colors.  Sketch and outline.  And them swoosh on my first brush of paint.  Idea becomes form.  A new creation takes shape.

My  Hallway of Ukrainian Art