Going Back to Aspen...

This last weekend, I took my daughters back to Aspen, Colorado to meet up with my mom. Over forty years ago, we had lived there, before it was so posh, with the downtown lined with designer store fronts like Gucci and Dior and beautiful people with their high falotting dogs walking the streets and fighting for parking spots with their huge Suburbans and Porsches. No joke it was like "Road Rage"! I guess a parking complex on such pricey land is out of the question and would be an eye sore?

When we lived there, it looked more like this-

 taken from Wikipedia Commons- as were the downtown pictures, the rest are mine.
 We lived there in the late 60's and early 70's  when it was the "hippy" capitol of the world, or so it seemed to my father, who was the District Ranger for the Forest Service...

(this picture more from the mid 50's)

 and who's responsibility it was to keep in check the "free love" that was happening in the National Forest that surrounded the tiny mountain town at the end of the Roaring Fork Valley.

In fact, we lived right at the Aspen Ranger Station, which is situated at one of the first intersections as you come into town.

Just around the visitor entrance, where my sister, brother and I were the first to grab every publication, coloring book, poster, pencil, rule or anything else put out by Smoky the Bear or Woodsy Owl...

 There is  a sidewalk, around the corner,  which led to the house next door, still situated on NFS land...

That in the 70's was the District Rangers house....

I was five when we left, but I remember many things about living there like the curved archways, seeing my mom play solitaire at the round bear claw dining room table and the long set of stairs that went down to the basements where my dad kept his stash of antiques bottles found at clean up sites in the National Forest, i.e.- from trash heaps in abandoned mining towns up in the mountains of Colorado. Often we kids would sleep down there, on NFS cots, in smelly, leaking  NFS down sleeping bags.
After my mom and dad divorced and she took us to Loveland to live with our grandparents, I still visited Aspen and that is when I learned about another piece of equipment important to families of those who took care of the NF, a radio- before cell towers and phones, the only form of communication for those out deep in the wilderness and those at home. My stepmother explained that to me. More critical, though my father did not do as much as our friends, when your loved ones were out fighting forest fires, a dangerous but profitable part of working for the NFS.  We have friends who define what they will be able to do in a year, not by $ but by how many fires there might be.

Disappointing to see now, the back of the buildings is now a parking lot, but when I was a kid, it was a jungle, with streams, hiding places and  the horse corral, where I never passed up an opportunity to climb the thick NFS brown fence and offer the horses some of the more chose green grass on my side.

The horses were there to be used in packing equipment and manpower into the forest when needed.

Pack Strings are still used today- both my dad and my father-in-law who are involved in Backcountry Horseman, still regularly work with the NFS when they bring their pack strings in to work on a Wilderness trail,  where absolutely No motorized vehicles are allowed, so the horses are still needed.

On our trip this last weekend, my mom got to tell my daughters of how their grandpa's saddle and saddle bags were stolen and how my father track down the thief because he had the saddlebags custom made to fit his clipboard he used in his grass management.

Behind the horse corral, there were other outbuildings including a workshop, where my dad would make me simple wooden toys like a piece of 2x4 we painted and stapled a shawl onto. There was a bunkhouse for the seasonal hands and smoke jumpers perhaps, college boys who were around every summer, oh I was way to young to appreciate that.... but I still think of the time in Aspen during fire season when they are stationed around the Four Corners, with there bright red and yellow trucks and all of them wearing olive green cargo pants and heavy workbooks.

Next door to our house  in Aspen, was an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins. They had been ranchers in the area, and were bought out when the rich started to move in, so they lived out their years in this little Victorian house. He always wore overalls and a felt hat and she wore dresses and aprons made out of calico, wore cat eye glasses and little white socks with her shoes, or so I remember.

One day, I do remember watching their house from our side window and not being allowed to go outside until Mr. Jenkins caught and drowned the skunks in trash cans that had taken up residence under their porch.

We also drove up Castle Canyon to enjoy the changing colors and to walk around the ghost town of Ashcroft....

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My Apologies

Apparently, a parasite attached itself to my blog, adding countless links to their illustrator website to the end of all my posts, below the comments. I think it is a new trend where by attaching your link to my blog, your site can go up in the search engines or something. Ahhhh.... the things pale faced people in dark little rooms who should go out in the sun on occasion can think up on how to take advantage of other's work on the web- oh! isn't that the definition of a parasite?

Also, Apparently I am not without fault- the new blogger interface include a box that somehow was checked to allow such inpoliteness- well I finally unchecked it and hopefully that is the end of it, because I love blogger and don't want to have to move. If anyone knows more about how people can leave a sneaky link on other's  blog sites and how to stop them, please, please post. And so sorry to you readers to have to look at such things on my posts!!

I'm up at the Telluride Film Festival again...

It's Labor Day Weekend, so that means my kiddos and husband are camping in Utah and I am here, with very gracious friends, who have house, for one of the best film festivals in the US. George Clooney is here, Glenn Close is here, Jennifer Garner is here, George Harrison's widow is here and Johnny Depp is rumored to be here. Jump over to my other blog On Popcorn and Movies for the weekend's play by play.

IF: Disguise

This is old, but fits the theme well. Could Fall be right around the corner. I am so ready for cooler weather, golden leaves, life slowing down with all our schedules less crazy- though opposite of that, I took, or retook my teaching job at Battlerock Charter School- to teach art, music and now a reading and writing enrichment program to rural and Native American Children. I was down there for six years until the administration and parent's board changed and they chose to drop the Art program. Well, now three year forward and a new administration has brought back many of the teachers that taught with me and whalla- life can work that way.

Of course, now I am in this freelance mode of working at home.....staring at my dogs....talking to my dogs....too many days wearing sweats......so working twenty hours a week down at the school probably is a good thing for me. I will still have the mornings to write, I'll work in the afternoons, and have all of Thursday and Friday in my studio, and  the weekends. Plus with a kiddo going off to college next year, the extra $$$ is a good thing.

Battlerock is a one room school house, down McElmo Canyon, right below Sleeping Ute Mountain and near the border with Utah and very close to both the Navajo and Ute reservations. Well, one thing is certain, I will have a lot to blog about this school year!

Getting to the SCBWI

Making my way to the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrator's Annual International conference in Los Angeles, my husband drove me through the Navajo Reservation Wednesday afternoon, to the train depot in  Gallup New Mexico, where the depot attendent, an old Hispanic man, complete with a long grey braid down his back and tatoos and turqoise on his arms, announced the train would be an hour late.

Since the "Rez" is not a place you want to drive through at night if you can help it, I sent Jon home and waited with the half a dozen other people. I was the only Anglo, and since everyone was speaking Spanish or Navajo, I  busied myself on my phone playing Solitaire and walking around the little depot, where great public service cardboard displays advertised the struggles the Navajo's are still dealing with in this "Modern Age"...

Third World living conditions in faulty houses and trailers with dangerous kerosine stoves. When I was teaching at Battle Rock, one Navajo girl told me how her little cousin had just fallen in an open stove and was in the hospital...

Severe proverty- especially the elderly and the young- not every Navajo man is a drunk, but the lack of "fathers" on the Rez, is taking it's toll.

And as is true with all proverty- Education.

Finally after over two hours, the train came into the station and we were headed West into the sunset. The train woul get  into LA about 8 in the morning. To pass the time and because I was on a tight deadline for a "call for entry" for a fine art publication, I stitched the boarder of a fabric collage, aka art quilt...

Come morning and past Kingman AZ and Death Valley, we started to drop passengers off at station after station in California...

I was headed to the end of the line....

Union Station. Tired and probably a little stinky, I still took time to take some pics of the fabulous architecture of this iconic train station.

Then I rode a subway...

then a bus....

to finally get here.... the Hyatt Regency Centruy City Hotel, right next to Beverly Hills and Rodeo Drive

did I mention I was here, less than 24 hours ago!

ahhhhhh........

starving, I cleanded, up and headed over to the food court in the mall across the street...where I had sushi and texted my teenagers the pic to prove it, my daughters response " Not cool!"

Coming back to the hotel, I could not get my keycard to work on my room door, and I  must of looked pathtic, because two gentleman, dressed in nice suits stopped by and turned out to be both managers of different departments of the hotel. They kindly told me I was actually on the wrong floor and it "happens all the time." I sheepishly thanked them and they must of took pity on me, wondering if "some" wine might help after my long train ride.

Well, less than a half hour later, resting in my correct room, not a glass of wine was delivered, but a whole white linen cart and silver bucket, with a lovely 2009 Pinot Grigo from Italy.

I actually never drank it, Mohitos seemed to be more what I drank down at the hotel bar- ( like one a night- which is a lot for me) so did not also have the desire for wine. So I just enjoyed looking at the bottle, in the pretty silver bucket over the four days and carefully packed it amoungst my clothes and got it home safe, to enjoy at a later date when we have friends over for dinner and I can tell them the story of my adventures on the train, subway to get to probably one of the nicest hotels I will ever stay at.

IF: Obsession

We all need our own personal obsessions. Mine is Art, always has been, but my daughter's is karate. I often take my sketch book with me and sketch away at the beautiful movements they are learning to well, pummel some bad guy in a dark alley if they need to. As their mother, I am also trying to teach them to stay out of dark alleys- but also glad they both have the ability to defend themselves if need be.

Karate is definitely an Art- a skill that takes great dedication, practice and a large amount of obsession! You need to live, eat and breath it! .....Kind of like Art!

The painting in the backgorund is The Great Wave by Katsushika Hokusai (1760-1849). It was fun recreating a beautiful piece of artwork in fabric- might have to do that again!

Heading to the SCBWI conference in LA on Wednesday. Will be in the portfolio showcase again and this is my postcard image- then when get back will do a mail with it to Art Directors.

Lesson learned from an ant

We camped here this weekend- well actually over there on the other side, above Moab Utah on Sand Flats. The front side of the pic is Dead Horse Point. Pretty grand impressive vistas, very God inspiring. But this post is about one tiny ant who resides near the camp site we stayed at.

In the morning he found a bit of chocolate wrapper under the picnic table, dropped from the s'more making the night before and proceed to carry it back to his ant hill at the edge of the campsite. We noticed him because the wrapper was like three times his size. We were dully impressed. Than all of a sudden, he put down the wrapper and picked up a rock, well a pebble, but a rock to him and started to carry it the opposite direction.  We were concluding he must actually be a pretty stupid ant, until he dropped the rock and came back to the wrapper, picked it up and continued towards the ant hill. Before our eyes, an ant had the presence of mind to remove an obstacle in front of him, that was inhibiting his goal of getting his goods to his anthill!!

Wow- if we could only learn to do such things. Made me think- sometimes we do need to persist, keep on keeping on- but I think we get encouraged to persist more often than we do to evaluate our situation and remove the obstacles that are blocking our way, because sometime slightly changing our course of action, or taking the time to remove the obstacles has bigger results.

In all the conference, workshop, etc. I have attended and purusing the internet's art and writing groups- there is more encouragement to "keep doing what you are doing" and surely, eventually it will all work out- and not so much encouragement to do some "self evaluation".

I have listen so often to a new writers or artist express their frustration with the biz and how "unfair" it all is. I also have seen the large steel door fall over their eyes as the sirens start to blare and red flashing lights start to spin over their heads when I suggest they might want to think of switching genres, take some classes or consider some critique of their work. To take a line from The Princess Bride, "it is inconceivable," proving "that ant" is smarter than they are.

I was in a critique workshop with a really talented writer, very descriptive in her settings and characters, who was convinced she should write picturebook, though everyone told her she had to pare down her lovely descriptive words- but she had not interest in considering  writing chapter books.

I am dumbfounded by writers who are offended by even the idea of learning what three act structure, plotting, set ups and pay off, etc. ARE, let alone using them to create a better story.

Or in Art- have no interest in learning the Design rules or considering others critique. That ant is smarter!

Yes I have some natural talent in Art- but my success comes from evaluation, mine and others- and changing- or a better word would be learning- which directly came from teaching- meaning I had to take others advice- it really is not the horrid thing some think.

I am not doing exactly what I dreamed of doing- I wanted to create illustrations like Maurice Sendek- pen and ink and water color- I could still be doing that- and be frustrated as hell , unpublished, but seek solace in going to writer and art boards on the web and getting comfort by being told to "keep on keeping on" and that Ant would be smarter than me!  Don't worry- there are plenty areas of my life that ant is way smarter than me! And my road to illustrating and writing children's book is still an uphill battle- but at least the trail is clear.

IF: Stay

My dogs never "stays" for me to get a picture of them, the second they see a camera,

they come over to sniff it out! How about yours?

To see more illustrions for this weeks theme "Stay" go to
Illustration Friday's website

Girl Power

                            
I've been here for the last couple of days, where above on the billboards, below on play bills stuck to the melting asphalt and posed on the the back of taxi cabs are advertisements of barely clad, full bodied faceless girls. Being here is down right depressing, if not for the reason we find ourselves in this cement clad desert oasis in 100 degree temperature. Last night, my oldest daughter fought her way to earning her third degree brown belt in Kenpo Karate 5.0

Accomplishing such an achievement in this town is a more than a little ironic. She is only 17, and for the last several years has been trained by some amazing teachers- thank you Mr. S, Mr. P and Mr. T!

She goes for her first degree black belt next year- and should have it right after she graduates from High School- which is somewhat of a comfort for me- since I have no idea how to let go of my baby and let  her go off into the big bad world. Yesterday, watching her hold her own in a room with at least fifty Brown and Black belts, being one of maybe five women, like all mothers, this is the face I saw.

proud of you, Bunny!

IF: Whooooo?

This is almost my first attempt at fabric collage from way back when- using mixed media- wire for the house's screen door and lantern.

Ohhh to finally feel like it is truly summer here in Colorado- if not a slightly cool one.  

IF: Launch

What kid does not love to be launched into the sky by their dads.

Happy Father's Day

There Really Are No New Ideas!

It is such a hardship, but I had to take daughter #1 to Santa Fe a few days ago. She is going to be testing for her third degree Brown belt in karate soon and she needed to work with her head instructor. It's about a 5 hour drive from SW Colorado, so we stayed over one night.

What is a mom to do all day in Santa Fe New Mexico? I didn't hang around the karate studio, I'll tell you that. Instead, I headed up to Museum Hill and browsed the textiles at the International Folk Art Museum.

There was an interesting exhibit on the folk art of the Andes region in South America.

Apparently, "Made in China" knock offs are nothing new. Way back in the mid 1800's, Peruvian Folk Art was sent to China to be replicated and returned to South America for souvenirs for the growing tourist trade!  

How does an Arabic style bag called an al-khurj finds its way to the high mountains of South America? Well, In the Crusades, Spain took on much of its Muslim conquers, and brought the Arabic influence with them when they conquered the New World. 

This is a huge embroidered tapestry (2007)  from the village of Chijnaya in Puno, Peru, depicting daily life. Note the Catholic church's road side alters and the local festival depicted.

Okay.... what kind of loom are these ladies using- I always assumed that an upright loom was used in South America like the Navajo looms- this looks like some kind of a floor loom- anyone knowledgeable?

The Spanish conquers also deemed the tradition dress of the Natives inappropriate and encouraged them to dress like lower class pheasants from Spain. Of course local styles did not go away entirely, so now the local dress of the women of the Andes, still has a little of their original culture. I always wondered the origins of the little ladies in Mexico who sell the boxes of chicklets- though from a different region of South America I think - they are very similar to this lady's dress.

And the embroidery!! Gorgeous !

Also adopted from their Spanish conquers, but then adapted to their own culture.

Also learned that "Bring your own bag" is also nothing new!

Ladies will carry these little squares of fabric and use them to bundle things at the market, or to lay down on the ground for picnics. Kinda of reminds me of the Girl Scout bandanas we were encouraged  to carry which could be tied to a hobo stick, used in first aid, protects your head from the sun, etc, etc, etc.

And bigger sacks are needed to transport anything on a llama!