The ride to the "redwoods"...

The Catholic Graveyard at Tomales CA.
Originally uploaded by S'mee.

Thor and I headed out the last day of our trip for a "quick look" at the Redwoods. Thor had visited them as a child and wanted to shared their beauty with me! Unfortunately childhood memories being what they are, Thor hadn't quite calculated the distance to the redwoods from San Francisco and we ended up on a freeway headed north. The freeway was a glorified parking lot and luck being what it is, we turned off and drove west! (My favorite direction!) Although we never made it to the redwoods, we had what turned out to be, one of the best driving day trips ever.

We turned off the 101 at the 12, driving through some of the most picturesque land. This map shows the route. Sebastopol is an artsy, wine country introducing, bed and breakfast-y kind of town. After the redirection from a road block caused by an accident we then went north through Forestville (self explanatory name), Guerneville, and on to Jenner at the coast. I felt a bit thrown back to my old hippy days (at least wannabe) as we drove through these little earthy towns with all natural food stores, hemp purveyors, rainbow pretty-much-anything-you-want, and art and craft boutiques. And lots of alternative couples feeling comfy in their own shoes to put it politely. The flip side being the white folks in dreads and India batik. Talk about mixing your cultures with fashion. But that's those darned artsy types. For me, it looked like heaven, for Thor, well that's another story.

The photo above is (terrific segue) a portion of the Catholic cemetery in Tomales. (looking at the above map, find Cotali and go straight west -and slightly lower- to the tiny little angle on the red line. That bend in the road near the water is Tomales.) A small historic town of (what the town sign said) 5. We think perhaps someone has erased the extra zero(s); but it's not for us to say. That aside, It is a quaint little town, very quiet the day we visited and we only saw about 5 actual folks walking around (so perhaps the sign was correct although the housing states there should be more.) We took the side street up the slope to the hill where the wrought iron gates waited wide open, and drove into the grounds. To the left of the drive way were the tombs. All had the raised curb and further raised cement borders; with the unused graves still grassy and full of wild flowers. Once "furnished", evidence shows a cement slab covers the crypt; and head stone or foot stone mark the resident(s). Interesting.

After leaving Tomales we drove out to Point Reyes in hopes of visiting the light house. It was closed, but after researching what we missed, I am a bit glad we got there too late. This website tells the history (very interesting!), but also that it is equivalent to climbing a 30 story staircase to get down to the light house, and then back up! Hello knees! So I am content (for now) to read all about it. You should too! Have fun!

Time keeps on tickin'

Who is a happy camper? S'mee is a happy camper! I woke up way too early this morning with some homework requests from #5 -ugh! (she is becoming the queen of the "I forgot about it until now and I'll need that by 2nd period, THANKS" procrastinator) But after I got all of that accomplished I sauntered over to the ol' canvas on the easel to check on the drying of some very stubborn oil paint and VOILA! It's beginning to finally take on a rubbery texture! This means sometime in the very near future (like maybe next week) I can FINALLY begin the final stages of my painting! Oh joy! Oh rapture!

I haven't painted (oil on canvas) in over 20 some years and began again last summer. This one painting has been a re-learning experience. I have made huge mistakes, but most "regular" folks seem to like it... a lot. Which pleases me. Most un-artsy people aren't as critical as myself so that tells me that at least it is on the right track and that the next painting will only get better. Last week a fellow drove up to show #3 a car -which she ended up purchasing, proof of the power of prayer (thank You, thank You!) . While he was waiting for her to finish discussing the major details with her dad the fellow asked how much I wanted for the painting. Without thinking I blurted out "15". He looked at me and said, "$15,000?" with a very 'whatever' face. I replied, "Oh no! 15-hundred". "Do you accept commissions? Do you do all kinds of scenes? Can I have my wife call you?" I was a tad skeptical because he was trying to sell my daughter a car and yada yada yada, complementing the artist mom can't hurt, right? But when we went to pick up the car the gal actually invited me through her garden and brought up the artwork again. So at least I know he went home and talked with her about it.

So I will finish it and move onto the new painting that has haunted my dreams for about 3 months now. I am excited. Dream induced art has always proved to be successful for me. I have dreams, very vivid dreams almost every night. Every once in a while I will dream of an art project and when I get up and actually produce it, it flows right out of me. Most art - if it is a passion in me- will also flow; but dream induced is almost in a blur it comes so quickly, so I am anxious to get to the new canvas.

Why wait? Well, our house is quite small- especially when considering all the folks who share this space. Add in too much furniture (to accommodate said family members), and then lots of visits from the grand baby (I LOVE that little boy!) and well, there ain't no room for a studio!

So I paint in the kitchen to get the best light. Our kitchen is whopping 8'x6'. The fridge is right beside the sliding glass door, and consequently because of that you can't open the door fully. (If you need to get the veggie drawers all the way open or out you need to pull the fridge out and into the middle of the kitchen floor! Which is easy enough, just "WHY?") So I bring the easel over in front of the fridge while everyone is gone, or I paint during the middle of the night when folks are asleep. Then when I get to a finishing point for the day I carefully pick up the canvas and place it aside while I put the easel back into the front room. Canvas back on easel to dry and there you go.

Now that creates a bit of trouble as well. *As you walk in the front room from the door you are In the living room. No entryway here, no sir! Immediately to your left is hubby's huge office desk. Beyond that is the family desk, and a very large drafters cabinet with all kinds of crafty stuff in it and in little containers on top of it. On the wall to your right -right as you walk in - is a studio piano flanked on both sides by 6' bookshelves. On the far wall is my grampa's old steamer trunk, and to the left of that is my mom's old buffet. Did I mention that on the far side of the book shelf flanked studio piano there was a baby grand? The baby grand sits in what should be a dining room (trying really hard not to laugh at that description!) . The dining room also has a country sized table for 8; but shoved against the far wall so you can actually walk into the family room. My easel, with wet oil painting, sits in front of the bookshelf and right beside the baby grand. Touching a wet looking painting is an absolute must for about 80% of the population.

You can see my dilemma. There is no room in the inn for another canvas/easel. So I wait. But after this morning it won't be too much longer and I am happy, Happy, HAPPY!

*If I can figure this all out, I'll post a photo. Maybe after Tuesday when I will have had a nice tutorial from my wonderful sister!