little black journal

Thursday was our last full day in Banff, and since our legs were still slightly weary from the previous day’s hike, we decided to get in the car and do some sightseeing along the Icefields Parkway.  Our first stop along the way was Peyto Lake – as we made the short-but-steep climb up to this vista, I started to huff and muttered to myself, “I hope this is worth it…”  And…duuuuuude!  Now this is a view.  ’Nuff said.

Peyto Lake was impossible to top, but we made several other stops along the way, hopping out of the car to snap a few photos or skip a few rocks.

We spent the afternoon at Lake Moraine, drinking in the view of more turquoise water from our little rented canoe.

And one final quiet evening at the campsite – Shane polished off the rest of our screwcap wine while I kept the fire stoked, and we thought to ourselves, “This was just what we needed.”

On Friday morning, we made one last stop at Lake Louise on our way out of town, knowing that it could be a very long time before we came across anything this beautiful again.  *Sigh*.

The drive home was loooong, but we made it back to Seattle in one piece on Friday night, eager to wash the smell of campfire out of our hair and sleep in our own comfy bed.  And with that, our week in the great outdoors was behind us.  *Double sigh*…

From the second we hit the outskirts of Banff National Park on Tuesday evening, I knew we were in for something special – the rugged, snow-capped peaks set against the blue, blue sky were stunning.  But that first glimpse was just the tip of the iceberg (I know, I just can’t stop with the bad puns!), because we were in for so much more than we’d even hoped for.  Our campsite was just 4 km from Lake Louise, so we were up-and-at-em Wednesday morning for a nice long hike around the edge of the lake and then up through the mountains to the Plain of Six Glaciers.  I’ve heard stories about the indescribable color of Lake Louise, and it’s true, I’ve never seen anything like it.  The glacial deposits in the water give it this deep aqua tint that makes you think you’re in the Caribbean, until you look up and see that you’re surrounded by glaciers.  The pictures really don’t do it justice…  After drinking in the beauty of the lake, we set off on our hike, which began with a nice little stroll along the shore.

Then we climbed…

And climbed…

And decided to stop for photos of each other while we were both still smiling…

Climbed some more, and voila!  Victory!  4.2 miles later, we had reached our destination, where we each flopped down on a nice flat rock and sighed a big fat sigh of satisfied pride.  The view was stunning, the air was perfectly crisp and fresh, the deep blue sky was strewn with puffy white clouds, and I think we each said a silent thank you to God for being so amazingly talented.

After catching our breath, we picked ourselves up and made our way down the mountain in record time, stopping at the bottom to get a good look at the way the change in the sun’s angle had altered the color of the lake.

Our aching feet told us we’d earned the right to forsake our cold cuts on wheat bread for burgers and fries in downtown Banff.  And I will not apologize for eating out while camping, ’cause those sweet potato fries were gooood.  The rest of the evening was spent lounging around the campsite, reading, popping open a bottle of screw-cap wine, and keeping the fire stoked.  And I was convinced, we just might be onto something with this whole camping thing…

Shane and I embarked on Monday on our first-ever solo camping trip – we were up before dawn that morning to pile our tent, sleeping bags, and various essentials into our trusty Civic, and by 5 a.m. we were headed east, excited by the prospect of five full days in the great outdoors. Our first destination was Glacier National Park, where we would camp for night on Lake McDonald, followed by three nights in Canada’s Banff National Park.  I camped a lot as a kid (some of my earliest memories are of sitting by the campfire, watching my mom cook up whatever fish my dad caught in the river that day), and Shane and I have gone on several weekend camping trips with groups of friends over the past few years, but this was the first time we were doing it on our own.  This made me the slightest bit anxious for two reasons:  1) When I found I forgot something (and it’s inevitable that you will forget something when packing for a camping trip), I couldn’t just shout out, “Hey, did someone bring ___???” and hope for an affirmative response, and 2) It’s easy and fun to sit around a campfire all evening and tell stories with a big group of friends, but were Shane and I really up for the task of keeping each other entertained for five solid days?   Fortunately, 1) It turned out I hadn’t forgotten anything that couldn’t be picked up at the little market near camp, and 2) Shane and I are actually pretty entertaining people.  Go figure.

Anyhow, after a long drive, we arrived at our campsite Monday afternoon, tired but eager to set up camp and then explore the sights.  Sadly, just as we began to unpack our tent, raindrops started to fall, and though it never poured, it sprinkled on and off throughout the evening. Thankfully, it was still dry enough for us to have a fire, so we warmed ourselves by the flames while we munched on grilled corn on the cob and bratwursts, followed by s’mores.  Turned out to be a pretty decent night after all…

We awoke Tuesday morning to the sound of birds chirping, and I could tell from the glow of the roof of our nylon tent that the rain had passed and we were in for a beautiful day.  After a short walk down to Lake McDonald to take in the sparkling water, we packed up camp and hit the road once again.

We had decided to take the scenic route up to Banff, via ‘Going-to-the-Sun-Road’ – 53 miles of winding, mountainous glory.  It was an amazing drive, and we ooh-ed and ahh-ed all along the way, from the rolling green hills up to the snow-capped glaciers.  Thank God Shane was driving, because there’s no way I could have kept my eyes on the road with sights like this around every bend!

Our first big encounter with Glacier National Park wildlife:  this guy was just chillin’ by the side of the road, nodding his head to the cars as they passed.  Awesome.

And with one final gander at the beauty of Glacier, we were off to Banff, wondering if Canada’s mountains could top what we’d seen in Montana.  Stay tuned to find out if they did!  (How’s that for a cliff-hanger?!)

These are a few of my newer favorites, hung as part of the show.  The general theme was ‘mixing media’, as I have completely fallen in love the way that encaustics allow me to use everything from my photographs to bits of fabric to old maps from the glove compartment in new and interesting ways.

Note that my next exercise will be in learning how to properly photograph art, but these should give you the jest of things…

pdx, 24″x36″, mixed media encaustic (map on tissue paper, painted nylon netting, photo transfer of trees):

mountain creek, 16″x16″, mixed media encaustic (nylon netting, photo transfer of trees):

rue st martin, 12″x16″, mixed media encaustic (nylon netting, photo transfer of parisian rooftops):

porto, 36″x24″, mixed media encaustic (painted nylon netting, photo transfer of bridge and screen wall):

Eeek – it’s been awhile!  Life has been a whirlwind the last 10 days, with a faux wedding to throw (more on that later), lots of goings-on with friends and neighbors, and, finally, the opening of my art show on July 1st.  My weeks of planning and working and art-ing all came to fruition on Thursday night, as I gathered with some of our closest friends to share the collection I’d put so much of my time and heart into. And it was perfect.  I’d held back on making a big deal out of the event, based on my own fears and insecurities, but when Shane and I arrived at the cafe on Wednesday evening to hang my work, and the barista asked, “Oh, are you the artist?”, I actually got to respond with an emphatic, “Yes!”, and was suddenly eager to share my work with anyone willing to take a look.  I’m embracing and living up to the title of ‘Artist’, no longer calling myself a wanna-be, or a poser, or just ‘pretending’ like the work I do qualifies as art.  This has become a part of who I am, what I do, and how I relate to people.  Being in a room surrounded by 15 pieces of my art was an amazing feeling.  But what made the night infinitely more special was being able to share it all with our Seattle community – the cafe was filled with people that have encouraged me, cheered me on, and reminded me that creativity is most beautiful when it is freely shared.

Huuuuuuge thanks to everyone who came out – it was an evening I will never ever forget…

Well, folks, the countdown has begun – in just 7 short days, my artwork will be hung for my first-ever art show.  Through some very fortunate connections, I have been asked to put up my work in Seattle’s Q Café as their July artist.  Exciting?  No doubt.  Motivating? Definitely. Intimidating?  Yep, that too.  Throwing some pictures of my art up on my blog is easy, because I don’t have to physically watch anyone react to them – I can’t get my feelings hurt by uninterested glances, upturned noses, or (God forbid!) the occasional eye-roll.   And this is one of the first times that I will attach a price tag to my work; asking people to pay money for something I hold so dear opens up entirely new avenues for rejection.  But the fact is, I’ve put a lot of time, thought, and effort into the pieces that will hang on the wall next Thursday, so I’m going to go out on a limb and indulge in a little self-promotion:  If you live in the Seattle area, check it out – the show opens on July 1st and will run through the month.  The bulk of the work will be mixed-media encaustics, with a small sampling of my print-making work as well.  And if you don’t live in the Seattle area, some of my work will soon be available for purchase online, so stay tuned for that.  Now, back to work – I’ve still got art to make.  Zoiks!

We spent this past weekend in the great outdoors, camping with friends at a cool little spot just outside of Leavenworth.  It was a nice little getaway, complete with good food, lots of laughs, and lovely scenery.  The landscape was beautiful, so although I was tempted to spend the weekend parked in my camping chair, I couldn’t resist the lure of the mountains and and joined the group on a hike toward Eight-Mile Lake.

After a couple of hours leisurely picking our way among the lupines and fresh Spring growth, we arrived at our destination, where the ladies grabbed a seat and took a rest, and the boys skipped stones and scrambled over logs.

The rest of the day was wonderfully lazy, with a nap, and lots of just loungin’ around the campsite – the G-man was our little camper-in-training.

Nightfall when camping means one thing, and one thing only: S’MORES!  And we are a group of people that take our dessert very seriously, so standard s’more fare just wouldn’t do – I was pretty proud of myself when I put together this perfect marshmallow-peanut butter cup sandwich.  Oooooooh yeah.

But then Jordan had to one-up me with his feat of marshmallow-Reese’s engineering genius – we all drooled as we watched this skewer turn into a gooey, chocolatey mess.  And we all groaned when he held it over the fire just a second too long and half of this fell in the ashes.  Sigh.

Sunday I awoke the pitter-patter of raindrops on the tent roof and groaned as I pictured us spending breakfast time huddled around the picnic table, trying to cook our stash of bacon and eggs in the extreme dampness.  Ick.  The thought was enough to make me squirm a little deeper into my sleeping bag and go right back to sleep.  Fortunately, we had a super-selfless camper in our midst, and as the rest of us stayed huddled in our tents, sleeping our way through the raindrops, Jordan was expertly stringing a 20-foot tarp over the picnic table, so that we would have a dry refuge from the rain.  It sure pays to camp with people who know what they’re doing…

We ended the weekend with a bang, heading out to Boudreaux Cellars, tucked away in the woods just outside of Leavenworth, for a round of winetasting.  We tasted five tasty wines and got the VIP tour, complete with a stroll though the wonderfully musty underground cellar.

And with that, we pointed our cars west and all headed back to Seattle, eager to wash the smell of campfire smoke from our clothes, but satisfied with a weekend well-spent.

Oh, Lordy…  Things continue to be busy, with work and art-making and wanting to spend time with my husband and friends, but tonight, I am taking time to chill.  I had a deadline at work today that called for some late nights at the office, but the drawings are done, my inbox is cleared, and now, after an evening nap and a glass of wine, order has been restored to my life.  It was nice to share a meal with Shane, to throw in an old episode of Sex and the City, and to nibble on the delicate little macaroons that I picked up at the French bakery in the Market.  Yes, as I sit here and type, with Joe Purdy piping through the speakers, my most recent artwork scattered about on the walls and shelves, and a cozy bed beckoning me from the next room, I have to say, life is good.  Sometimes running on empty is ok, as long as I have nights like these to refuel.

Ummm…Hi, June! Where did you come from, and why are you passing me by so very quickly? Wowsers, life has been busy lately, and I feel like I am running at breakneck speed just to keep up. It’s good, though. I wouldn’t have wanted to turn down any of the things that have kept me on my toes. For example:

Shane and I were invited by a friend I work with to check out the Sounders game on Saturday night. Soccer is quickly becoming my new favorite sport, as I’ve had the chance to attend a few games over the past year and have developed a mild case of Sounder Fever. Yes, there is a bit of monotony in watching the guys run up and down and up and down the field, but the surge of energy that flows through the stadium whenever they score a goal makes all that waiting well worth it. Lucky for us, the Sounders were in fine form on Saturday and scored four goals, which meant lots of jumping out of our seats, clapping our hands, cheering loudly, and catching the glittery confetti that rained from the sky. Good stuff.

Sunday was my first day back in the print studio since my class ended last fall. I had almost the entire day to myself in there and was in art-making heaven, with Bon Iver piping through my headphones, a table full of brightly colored paint to mix and smear and roll, and a printing press just begging to be put to use. I got a lot of stuff of done, much of which I left in the studio to dry on the racks, but here’s a little peek at some not-quite-finished pieces. I am in love with this process, and am trying to figure out what our dining room would look like if we swapped out our table for a printing press. I’m kidding. Kind of.

And now, I am beat. As in, ready for the weekend!

As is usually the case with any long weekend, I am sitting here with the knowledge that I have to return to work tomorrow and wondering, ‘Where did the past three days go?!’. Time flies when you’re having fun, I guess…

I was up and at ‘em first thing on Saturday morning to head over to West Seattle for my work day at the encaustic studio. The instructors of the workshop I took in March have a great space set up over there for renters, where I had everything I needed right at my fingertips in order to make a lovely little mess. It was a productive day for me, as I finished a couple of pieces and got started on a couple of others, but still, even after nine hours in the studio, I wanted more. These sorts of intense art sessions are exhausting, but completely energizing at the same time. Can’t wait to get back in there. Here’s a sneak peek – more photos to come when I have the whole ‘collection’ done.

Yesterday we zipped down to Portland for a long-overdue visit with my brother and his family. As I’ve said after every trip down there over the past two years, I can’t believe how Elise has changed since I saw her last. She is taller, faster, chattier, and showing major signs of favoritism toward her Uncle Shane (I won’t hold this against her).  One of her favorite toys these days is the Magna-Doodle that Shane and I bought her for Christmas, and she spent quite a bit of time on my lap this weekend, drawing to her heart’s content.  Whatever I asked her to draw, whether it was an elephant, a penguin, or a picture of her Grandpa, she responded enthusiastically with, “OK, sure!” (her latest catch phrase), and proceeded to give it her best shot.  Granted, all of her doodles bear a striking a resemblance to one another, and I’m not sure I could differentiate her giraffe from her representation of Uncle Shane, but she gets an A+ for effort.  She also loves to read, and had a lot of fun pulling books off the shelves left and right during our visit to Powell’s this weekend.  I like to think of her as a future book club member-in-training.  Goodness, I love this little girl!

And so, another weekend come and gone (sigh).  But it was so, so good while it lasted!