Full Moon.

It is the night of the Full Moon. Just as the New Moon is a perfect time to bring new intentions, ideas, and projects into our lives, the Full Moon is a good time to let things go that no longer serve us. I like to imagine old and hindering patterns slowly dissolve away with the waning of the moon. This evening, I sat for a bit and thought about what I need to let go of this month.

I always feel especcially connected and energized by the Full Moon. In its honor, I attached some pieces of mine that I created by the light of la Luna in years past.

"Message in the NorthWest Night" - Colored Pencil, acrylic, paper, stitching on Cardboard.

"Moon Tree"- Acrylic, colored pencil, paper, cardboard, stitching, moonlight, on canvas

I really wanted 'Moon Tree' to capture the energy of the moon, so over the many months that I created this piece, I would place the layers of the painting on the roof of my house to sit under the ligt of the full moon. After they spent some good time outside, I would add the layers to the painting.

Almencer. Sunrise 10 and 11

Sunrise in Spanish. My dear friend Kyle who has been frolicking around South America for the past three months taught me that.


"Sunrise 11" - Acrylic and colored pencil on canvas paper

Im not a huge fan of this sunrise painting for some reason. I think it feels a little too dainty. Anyway, the sun started initially as a red fire ball right behind the harbor islands. Then, as it rose, it turned into a glowing yellow, casting a yellow light on the water and the sky.

'Sunrise 10' - Acrylic, colored pencil, paper towel (yes, paper towel) and tisue paper on cavas paper.

A sunrise from another one of our many rainy spring days from last week. I was feeling the need for some texture. I put some paper towel and tissue paper into the painting, and then covered them with layers of paint. Sometimes I do that; I use whatever materials I have disposable and see what happens when I incorporate them into my work.

Sunrise 9

Sunrise 9: another calm and cloudy sunrise from earlier in the week. The ocean reflected a cool shade of green this morning instead of the usual dark/gray/blue/green. I wonder why?

Sunrise 9: acrylic, colored pencil on canvas paper.

I'm running a little behind on posting my sunrises. I will take some time today later today to catch up. I don't have my camera with me, so I will need to get the paintings scanned.

Little by little the sunrise is coming earlier. The days are getting longer. Waking up for the sunrise each morning is balancing my internal clock. Prior to this little experiment, I was awake far too late into the night. Even if my eyes and body were tired, my mind wouldn't turn off. To make up for the late nights, I would sleep later in the morning. And the cycle would just keep going.

Now that I am waking up early to greet the sun, I am finding it much easier fall asleep at night. After a full and long day, my mind is quiet. I feel aligned, once again, with the natural energetic cycle of day and night.

Strawberries.

Making room for my asparagus neccesitated transplanting some new strawberry plants that took it apon themselves to spread over into another bed. I dug out this whole pile of new plants and transplanted them to a better home. Yehaw. This means even more delicous and juicy berries this summer. And of course some delicious strawberry jam.

I started this strawberry bed several years ago. Taking a few stragglers from the Hay House Farm, I basically just threw them in the ground let them do their thang. Year after year, the plants have thrived and multiplied.

Strawberries spread by runners; they have a very horizontal orientation, sending shoots, or runners, out in all directions. The runners then root into the ground and a new little plant pops up. Pretty fantastic. This original strawberry bed of mine is getting pretty crowded, and if I were a better gardener, I would already have a few different beds established, trimming the runner's off the plants each season and spreading them into different beds. But, I'm not a better gardener, and at this point in my life i don't have the acres of land that I am determined to get my mitts on eventually.

Strawberries are easy to transplant. Just cut the runner and move the new plant wherever it needs to go. However (this is important), when planting strawberries, you have to make sure the crown of the plant is above the soil level or the plant will rot. Not good. The crown is just the top of the root system, pretty easy to discern. It's a big bump at the top of the roots and at the bottom of the leaves. Oh, and you'll most likely have to cover your strawberries with some type of netting. Birds and beasts alike will try to beat you to your berries if you give them a chance.

Sunrise 8

A drizzly morning and another wet painting. I appreciated the simplicity of the foggy beachscape this morning; it felt calming and peaceful....quite different from the fire and briliance of last week's sunrises. Trying to capture those extreme scenes left me feeling a little frantic.

I crave these cool, drizzley days in early spring. They remind me of my time living in the Pacific Northwest. On days like this it feels good to allow for a little melancholy, a little indoor quiet time with too many mugs of coffee.... maybe even a nap.

"Sunrise 8" - Acrylic on paper.

Sunrise 7

Another morning at the reservoir, this time facing southeastish. I wanted to get a different perspective. Again, I only painted the backdrop for this painting. I will need another morning to complete it.

I used pinks and reds for the base layer. When I add the next layer of more accurate colors to the sky, trees and lake, the bright pink/red will glow subtley through. This creates a sense of light in the painting.

I won't be returning to the reservoir for another week or so, so I will finish this little painting at that time.

"Sunrise 7 (part 1)" - Acrylic on paper.