remembering still feathers

Near the end of working on one side of the Good Bones remodeling project, a cedar waxwing crashed into a kitchen window.

It hit the window so hard that some of its feathers stuck to the glass of the window.

feathers left © 2011 Toni Matlock

feathers still © 2011 Toni Matlock

I turned to a fellow artist, Stephanie Frostad, for solace and she made a painting in honor of the sweet bird.

Hapless Waxwing © 2011 Stephanie J. Frostad

Stephanie currently has an exhibition of her art titled 'Natural Circumstances' on view in Seattle, Washington at Davidson Galleries until September 1st.  Be sure to visit the show in person if you can.

fluke the whale

I had a whale of a dream.  Literally.  I'll spare you any play-by-play recount of the dream (so I'm not one of those people), but I'll have you know that glorious creepy adventure in my sleep made a deep impression on my conscious self.  Since I woke up I haven't stopped thinking about it.  I've been trying to replicate the main character, a cartoon baby whale, in drawings but I just can't. I can still picture him standing on a dock, but he's un-drawable. What I dreamt and what I draw can never match.  

It's just how it is.  

Fine, I say. It hasn't stopped me from making my wonderful whale friend more tangible for myself anyway.  I've reinvented him, see:

Dream Whale © Toni Matlock 2012

With such a boxy head, apparently he's a Sperm Whale.  I can't decide if he should be blue, yellow or green.  In the dream, he was a rich glowing polychrome, but I don't feel my cartoon of him needs to be.  I'm leaning toward green at the moment.  What do you think?

Oh, and in case you are dying with curiosity for some details of the dream, let me just say it ended with a bumpy treacherous drive in the water's edge along a narrow strip of beach with people leaping out of the way (my brakes had gone out) until I hit a rock and came to a stop.  When I opened my car door, I felt a huge pang of fear that people were hurt, but everyone was gone. Then a big beach towel unfolded like a magic carpet in the sand in front of me with a spread of all different kinds of chocolate bars.  No doubt melted in their wrappers as hot and sunny as it was.  A happy ending nonetheless.

I'm not sure where my cartoons of Fluke the Whale (yes, I even named him) will lead, if anywhere, but like my dream, I'll keep watching and see.

more like B-movie Veggie Lust

 

I think this video advertisement for PETA, titled "Veggie Love," is weird and funny and not much worse than most commercials on television that I've seen, but admittedly it is way over the top.  Apparently the networks are keeping it from airing during the Super Bowl (See Good's article.) and since I don't have my own television or watch the Super Bowl, I really don't care.  

In my usual tangential way, I'm more amused with attempts at renaming it.  Garden Porn.  Greengasm.  Herbawhore.  Eve Spreads Seeds.  And as I titled this post, the plane Jane obvious, Veggie Lust.

The stunt has bought some media time just for the Super Bowl rejection alone, so that counts up to some kind of success. No doubt it will get plenty of internet traffic for its absurdity and sex-like appeal, but when I get (slightly more) serious about it, I am interested to know: Does it really make people consider or sign up for PETA's cause anymore thoughtfully or deeply?     

Dead Sea Skin Care

I absolutely love this face cream: Delluvia Dead Sea Hydrating Day Cream.  I don't know if it smooths fine lines and all that jazz. I just love how it feels.  The stuff is packed with herb and mineral goodness and they don't test on animals.  I'm pleased to use something that lets bunnies be happy.  (Slurpy would like it, too.)

They stopped carrying the day cream locally, even though they still carry the rest of the line. Normally, I would just find something else.  Creams and lotions are mostly the same to me.

I like this one so much that I ordered more online.

Concrete forms

I used three pieces of cast concrete that I made as tests for a public art project several years ago as a little 'entry flair' into the studio.  They are each roughly 3 foot square and 4 inches deep. I planted creeping thyme in the centers of each. Some bunny thinks I did all of this work for him.  I was worried he would hate the gravel. Instead, he lounges like he's living in the French Riviera or something. And nibbles on the thyme which seems to have an affect like catnip. He does spazzy jumps after he has some, like it's really spicy or tart, but goes back for more. I have thyme of many varieties around the yard and he never eats it all down.  He just snacks on it. How great is that?

Hanging with Calliope and Rufous

Last weekend we saw an amazing little hummingbird when we were hiking in the Rattlesnake Wilderness. It was super tiny (between 2 and 3 inches, depending on which of us tells the story). The little guy lit on the very top branch of a young (12 footer) Ponderosa Pine while we were sitting on the grass. Since I looked up at the tree at such a sharp angle, his little silhouette popped against the blue sky backdrop. He moved between a couple of trees landing on the tippy-top each time. He was a beautiful green, with a red throat and white belly. This little dude made me so much more thrilled with what was already a really great day that I named him/her, Thimbelle.

I get Rufous hummers in my yard a lot. In fact, I saw one on my front porch enjoying the hanging basket of orange Nicotiana just the day after we saw Thimbelle. So, Thimbelle could have been a Rufous, but was probably a Calliope, and in the story that I insist is possible, is that he was a Bee hummingbird which are only in Cuba. But what if we spotted the first one in Montana? What if he came all of this way? It's possible, you know. It doesn't matter to me so much that it is true. Just that it is possible.

We also saw some other birds that come to my yard: a Western Tanager and a Downy. We have been getting so much rain that they were fluffing and preening, trying to dry out their moppy feathers. And the wildflowers were out in full force - even some Indian Paintbrush on the slope facing the river. My own garden is very showy right now, too.  Something about taking the hike and making the discoveries that you don't pass each day, adds a little extra thrill somehow, I guess. And I took more time to enjoy it. Having been reminded, I'm appreciating my own yard more now, too!  (All it takes is a few drops of sun and I am a better person. Or I think I am, anyway. Glorious sun, thank you!)

Slurpy Back Home

I went out to post 'Missing Rabbit' signs and found the neighborhood up in arms over the bunny-napping.

Mark (two doors down) was hounding Animal Control. Betsy (on the corner of the next block), happens to work the news room at one of the local papers and was calling me for the story to post on the paper's blog and also hung up signs. Gladys (tidy house on the corner) saw Joe (across the street from me) at Walmart and told him all about it. John (next door) was bummed.  The woman trimming Elsie's yard suggested that the people caught him to eat him. I decided that she was not my friend or Slurpy's. But she is in the minority. 

The guys at Gary's Gas Station (next door) said that recently they had sent the pound away.  A call had been put in about a crazed rabbit. Gary and the guy from the pound stood over Slurpy in the parking lot and discussed the situation. Gary asked The Pounder, "I don't know, does that rabbit look like a problem to you?" Slurpy sat all balled up, enjoying the warm pavement. Gary went on, "He is harmless. He lives next door. We all like him. Leave him alone." The Pounder apparently agreed and went away. Had the Pounder come back?

Eventually, I went to post my "Lost" notice on Craigslist and read a "Found Rabbit" post. A woman (ahem, with a California area code) had picked Slurpy up to 'help' him. I wish she had knocked on some doors and asked before scooping him up. I guess it isn't as easy to overlook as a loose cat, but she would have learned, like I did, that Slurpy lives a great life here and has many fans. And they would have sent her to me. Which I was pleased as punch about.

When Ms. Helpful dropped him off, finally, Joe ran over and knocked on my studio door to make sure I knew. He had a note and tape in hand in case I wasn't home. (I love my neighborhood.) 

Slurpy is losing his winter coat and he looks a bit mangy for it, especially in the rain. It also made him look grateful to be home again as he gobbled a handful of treats. I can't really tell. He hopped back to his routine pretty quick. 

From what I learned, John hand-feeds him raw almonds at 5:30 every morning.  He eats snacks under the blue spruce that the girls across the street leave for him. He naps under Gladys' weeping birch in the afternoons. Slurpy also gives the cats and squirrels that harass him a good spanking now and again so they mostly stear clear of him. And all that adventure is before he gets back to my house! 

He spends most of the day here.  And especially the nights, hunkered down in the middle of the grass in my back yard. When the college kids in the hood throw big parties, he stands in that spot, on his hind legs, his ears upright and separated at odd angles like TV antennae. He stands like that and listens, I guess. For hours. And I watch.

Anyway, the neighborhood is happy and relieved to have Slurpy back. There has been talk of having a party for him, but for now, I am satisfied with him roaming and following me around again.

Slurpy kidnapped!

Slurpy Alberto was born January 2005 at my house on Central Avenue.  I held him in my hands when he was a few weeks old.

Slurpy has survived the cars, cats, dogs, squirrels and people for almost four years. His parents, siblings and cousins have not.  

Slurpy roams this block freely.  He sleeps here, eats here and plays here.  We all take care of him and adore him.  Children visit my home in hopes of catching a glimpse of Slurpy, to feed him treats and maybe pet him.  He ventures this block with certainty that he is safe because it is his home.

 

Slurpy was kidnapped the evening of June 1, 2008.  A neighbor saw two women corral him into a shrub and put him in their car and drive away.

Free Slurpy! Bring Slurpy back!