Rod Sakrison

Rod was an Alki neighbor, environmentalist and musician who loved the beach.
NO MOURNING FOR ME
Like a lyrical light show
The pale morning light
Dances across the ridges
Chasing a mad-cap paint brush.

Deep green valleys
Point to hidden rivers
Snow white peaks rub their eyes
Turned pink from sleep.

Bouncing across the waters
Darting between the ferry boats
Gliding over the beaches
Eyeing a mountain goat.

I'm going to fly over
Those Olympic Mountains
In my red round sphere
When I'm outa here.

I'll look out
On a carpet of clouds
And lay my head down
On a pillow of dreams.
------Rod Sakrison, January 6, 2005

MY CENOTE*
As I lie in ICU
I heard them saying,
"He won't make it.
We give him a few days."

But I was floating
Just below the surface
Of a circular Mexican pool
And I knew I had work to do.

Deep green almost black
Like a forest shadow.
I felt my soul
Deep below me.

I wasn't afraid
Or scared to death.
Either way I was safe,
Warm and free in my faith.

Since then people say:
"You were tough.
And you were stubborn.
And you wouldn't give in."

But that's only half true.
I lived by feeling
Weak and thin
And not giving in.
------Rod Sakrison, February 16,2005

*(A "Cenote" is a deep pool of water)

Stormy Day

I love these stormy days.

Attack Eagle

This bald eagle looks fairly small in this photo but that is only because it took me a bit of time to get my camera out. The bird had just dive bombed me and my dog Cosmo. Have you ever had a bald eagle fly no more than a few feet over your head? Talk about startling.

I think really he was eyeing my dog as a breakfast morsel. I've heard that eagles do eat small animals. I'm glad that Cosmo was on a leash. I have a nightmare vision of standing by helplessly as the eagle lifts off with my dog in his talons. Sort of a Wizard of Oz moment - you know, the scene with the flying monkeys. I've just got to tamp down my imagination.

It reminded me of a time a couple of years ago when my dog Magic and I had to chase an eagle away from a gaggle of screaming Canadian geese as the eagle attempted to take off with one of the goslings. Some bystander then lectured me about not interfering with nature.

Findings

Another discovery during my daily walk. It's almost as if someone is leaving these things out for me as part of a scavenger hunt. In the old days I would have picked this up. But I ended up with too big a pile of stuff and it just collected dust. So nowadays, much as I am tempted, I leave these things alone for others to see.

Spring Sprang While I Was Gone

So I finally got out for a quick walk yesterday - after nearly a week in bed with the flu. It's jolting how quickly things change in such a short amount of time. The crocuses - cro·cus [ krṓkəss ] (plural cro·cus·es or cro·ci [ krṓ sī, krṓkee ]) - had popped up while I was gone. Maybe no big deal to you. But to me, it means I am over the hump of the winter blues. I can take a deep breath, relax, and know that spring will be here soon.

Went to the nursery a second time to buy a daphne odora plant but they aren't in yet. I have planted at least three of those in my yard over the years, and not one has made it. I just don't have the right touch I guess. But I'm going to keep trying.

Who Did This?

Here's another one of these occasional beach mysteries. These two vertical sticks almost blend well enough into all the other driftwood so that it is easy to walk by them them without notice. And they were overpowered by the spectacular morning sunrise in the distance.

I have to admit that a small part of me didn't look too closely at first and just assumed that, "This is a natural arrangement put together by the waves." But then, my more together self overruled and said, "Naw, it's obviously a human hand at work." Yeah, I guess so. There is just no way this could have happened by coincidence.

Daniel D. Woo

For those of you who haven't met my husband.

Andy Goldsworthy

Being sick is certainly no fun, but it does have the advantage of slowing me down and forcing me to focus on things that might otherwise get away. I've had a video about Andy Goldworthy's environmental sculpture on my shelf for a couple of days. Not being able to do anything but lie in bed because of the flu, I gave myself permission to take the time to watch it.

At first I wanted to post a photo of one of his pieces for people who aren't familiar with his work, but since I'm not allowed to post others' copyrighted work here, I can't. So if you don't know his work, but want to, you can find him on Google: Andy Goldsworthy

I don't know anyone who makes art the way Andy Goldworthy does. Outside, in all kinds of weather, looking for what nature has to offer him as raw materials. Basically he creates art out of things like piles of rocks or patterns of petals. The kinds of things that kids would use but on a much more sophisticated level. Then he documents the destruction of his sculptures by the weather or the effects of time.

When you see his work out in Nature, you know that someone has been there and then thoughtfully left his human mark in a way that an artist would appreciate. He injects the basic technical elements of art - line, color and shape on whatever he finds. A pile of rocks becomes a huge cone. A pool of water becomes a disc colored yellow with dandelion heads. I guess to me that is how he transforms the randomness of nature into art. But like a good artist, he does it in a way that communicates a message beyond the technique.

When I first became aware of his work, I thought it very odd. But I have to admit that it has mystery and power and an irresistible attraction. During the movie - titled "Rivers and Tides" by the way - I kept trying to put into words why this kind of art captured my attention. How does he make his work more than "just a pile of rocks?" Why is it more than merely an exploitation of the landscape, more than using the land as just a source of art supplies?

I finally got a clue when I heard him say, "I am so amazed at times that I am actually alive..." So I began to think that there is some sort of spirituality thing going on in the mix of it all. That kind of spirituality some people find when they are engaged in Nature. The sort of spirituality that is beyond words. The feeling you get when you are walking the beach alone on a windy day. And you are amazed that you are actually alive. Looking at his sculptures reminds me of those moments.

The video closes with a shot of powder snow drifting through the air. When the camera pans over, it turns out that the artist has been throwing the snow up to where the wind catches it. Is that floating show really meant to be an art piece? An "art happening?" Is it spirituality? Art and spirituality at the same time? When little kids throw snow up in the air, it's no big deal. No one would think it profound. So just because an artist does it, does that make it art?

Everything seems so confused. But it doesn't change the fact that I think Andy Goldsworthy's work is beautiful and entrancing.

National Watercolor Society

This photo was taken about 10 years ago when both my friend, Jeannie Grisham, and I had paintings accepted into the National Watercolor Society annual juried show in Southern California. The show usually attracts around 1,000 entries and that year only accepted about 70 of them. I have to admit that being included in this show, and being accepted as a Signature member of the group was entirely unexpected but totally thrilling - a highlight of my life for sure. It was a turning point in my career as it gave my work nationaal visibility and credibility.

Here's a photo of the painting that was exhibited in the show. It doesn't look like a traditional watercolor does it? Thanks so much to NWS and their jurors for being willing to go outside the box for their paintings.

Morning Eagle

Chris Westygaard

I love the title of this painting: "Bad Marriage Road Trip - New Mexico" My imagination kicks into gear with that one. Does it bring up a "Thelma and Louise" type of road trip?

I love the painting as much as its title. Far away mountains and blue sky. To me it communicates silence and solitude rather than sadness or anger.

Anyway, the painting was done by a new walking/artist friend who is also, like me, originally from California. Chris and I have a lot in common. Besides the painting and walking we are both investigating meditation. She is way ahead of me and has established a long term practice. I'm still struggling with showing up regularly.

Here is a photo portrait of Chris. I love this photo.

PYRAMID - BARBARA SOWINSKI

This painting, "Central Park" - which I love - was done by a friend of mine who lives in Pennsylvania. We met around 1996 in Fullerton, California, when each of us had a painting accepted into the National Watercolor Society's annual juried show. We met at the reception and just started chatting about our common interest in Robert Motherwell.

Since that time we have been communicating mostly by email. It's interesting to have a long time friend that you have only talked to in person once for maybe an hour. But it has turned out not to make any difference.

It is so much fun to have shared our opinions about the meaning of art and the goings on in the art world. Of course, we have also shared a lot of personal stuff over the years, but that is going to stay personal.

HOMELESS

A lot of people think that walking the same route every day gets boring. NOT SO!!!!!! for me. Every day is different: different weather, different people,and different incidents.

Same thing applies to today, a Sunday. This morning was quiet mostly because there was no commuter traffic whizzing by. Also because the clouds were hanging low and there was no wind or waves. So the scream of a fire truck coming at us down the hill jarred me out of my meditation on the water and waves. Down it came and stopped right in the parking lot of my turn around spot - the "Salmon House."

My mind immediately went to the scuba divers who are always active in that area on the weekends early in the morning - even in the winter. No matter what the temperature or weather. I know there has been at least one drowning there in the past year. From a distance I could see two divers in the water and a few standing around on the beach. "Uh oh," I thought.

More errant mind speculations. In fact someone had called 911 to report a man asleep on a nearby park bench. I could see him curled up facing away from the beach with his parka hood pulled up over his head. Since his bench was on my usual route I guess I could have walked right by him. I'm certainly nosy enough to want to know what was going on. But I detoured around and gave him lots of space. The firemen got out their medical bags and went over to attend to him. The firemen took off his jacket and shirt. He already had a large bandage wrapped around his left arm. It looked like they were giving him some kind of injection and trying to talk to him. By then you could tell he was in serious distress because he was moaning and rocking rapidly back and forth.

I didn't stick around to find out what was really going on. But as I started back in the other direction, the ambulance came up the road. I suppose they were going to take him to Harbor View Medical Center. All around me was the beauty of the morning - the broad expanse of sky and Elliott Bay before us.

I don't know if this kid - he looked like a very young man after they got his clothes off - had spent the entire night on that bench. I don't know if he was homeless. We have a lot of homeless people living in this neighborhood. They are everywhere. They hide in the parks and sleep on the beach. In one of our public elementary schools more than one in ten of the students are homeless. I know that many are not drug addicts or alcoholics but just people down on their luck. There are more than 700,000 homeless people living in America right now. That is almost one in four of us.

So, yes today distinguished itself from all the others. It will be interesting to see what happens tomorrow.

PS. I saw "Don" today. See the story below. I hadn't seen him in about two months. He gave me a big smile but clearly had no idea who I was.

SWAN LAKE

I went to see Pacific Northwest Ballet's performance of Swan Lake at McCaw Hall this afternoon. They wouldn't let me take photos inside the performance hall, of course, but I was allowed to shoot this one of the lobby during intermission.

Superb is a good word to describe the experience. Everything was fabulous - the dancing, the costumes, the music, the set, the story. Way beyond what I expected.

If you get a chance to attend a PNB performance, I say "do it."

Diana Fairbanks

I walked much later today and ran into one of my favorite friends, who happens to be a neighbor and who also walks Alki Beach on a regular basis. In fact, she has been walking it a lot longer than I have. Diana has lived in this neighborhood for many years and bought a beautiful house when this area was still a sleepy, quiet, out of the way beach community.

Diana is one of the most accomplished and multi-talented people I know. At the top of her list is her work as a fine artist. Diana has exhibited her work in numerous shows and galleries throughout the State of Washington. She also designed and painted the landscape mural on the wall of our local Sun Fish Restaurant.

Diana has a PhD from the University of Washington, is the author (along with Mike Sedam) of the fabulous book "The Backroads of Washington" and is the owner of Alki Image Specialists.

Diana will be exhibiting her paintings at Sapphire in Edmonds beginning February 15.

Here is one of her paintings: