Kitchen Brook Trail

Posted on January 16, 2012 by Melanie

Kitchen Brook Trail begins in my backyard, zigzags through the woods and connects with the Old Adams Road. The trail is fairly unofficial. It’s not on the Mount Greylock map, even though I can easily get to many Greylock trails from my backyard. The AT is a half-mile up the road, or 3/4′s of a mile on trail through the woods. Doug and I hike back there regularly. I’ve gone up many a dead end in search of loops, coming up with a handful of adventures that vary from easy to difficult to strenuous.

The short walk: a quick two-miler that crosses a couple of streams and old stone walls. It eventually hooks up with the AT and returns via the road.
 
The STEEP walk: a five-mile walk complete with a nice steep section, some little waterfalls in the spring time, a flat walk across a ridge to the AT and then back down to the road and home.
 
The mountain bike loop/New Years Walk/Through the Water Source: goes out the back to the bridge, up the hill switching back a few times to the Old Adams Road. Turn left and head down to West Mountain Road and then home.  OR, turn right and head for a few miles to the AT and back down to the road and home. OR, turn left and then left again at the secret turnoff that will take you down the other side of the valley that is Kitchen Brook to the Cheshire water source. 

The most important part of these last hikes is the bridge.

Yep, this bridge. Which is NEW, like in the past month. Those warm winter days certainly inspired someone out there. The old bridge got destroyed in the same violent weather act that inspired this post.  And this isn’t a little whimpy bridge. The base of the bridge are felled trees at least 18 inches in diameter. So now, after like seven months, there is a new bridge. Joy for the snowmobilers and ATV’ers. For me and Doug and our mountain bikes and snowshoes. Whoever created this bridge is also responsible for clearing the trees that fall regularly on this path. It’s gotta be one of my neighbors, because this is not state land, it’s private land. So, number one goal this week is to contact the Town of Cheshire to see if I can find out who owns it, I need to make them a cake.

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Little red dots and thread

Posted on January 10, 2012 by Melanie

Last year around this time, I began threading red linen thread through tiny little holes drilled in wood. Over and over, threading each hole, like threading hundreds of needles again and again.

It coincided with this need to make little red dots of varying shapes and sizes, on various prints, tree rubbings and other found or painted material.

This repetition of paint and pen dots, or thread through holes became my manta, my om, that I repeated, and repeated and repeated.

It’s what I want to do right now, this repetitive action, to calm, to center to find the peace that comes with repetition. But as 2012 begins, I ask myself, what can I do with it next. What is the next step for this work? Do I continue making the collages with layers of images and dots? Or do I go larger, grander, bigger? I want to take yards and yards of the thread into the woods–and thread it through little cracks in trees. Kinda like this:

This is all I can think about right now. Will the weather hold and give me the chance to find the perfect spot in my woods to try out this woodland installation? Can you picture discovering something like this along your walks in the woods?

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Welcome 2012

Posted on January 1, 2012 by Melanie

A new year, a new beginning. So many hopes and dreams I have for this year, for myself, for my family and for my friends. I want to approach it with open hands. Ready for whatever it will bring.

I share with you a meditation adapted from a book by Peter van Breeman, SJ, As Bread that is Broken. I wrote this in one of my commonplace journals nearly 20 years ago while on a silent retreat in the Arizona desert. I remember Sister Therese as I write this, a woman who inspired me to remember that August will take care of August, and that God is always with me, and reminds me of that and her whenever I see a cardinal.

Prayer is to be in God’s presence with open hands and an open heart. There are many things in my life to which I cling with a clinched fist–my possessions for sure, but the immaterial things as well: the work I do, the position I hold, the friends I have, my ideas, my principles, my image. If I should open my fist, they still remain. Nothing drops out. But my hands are open. And that is what prayer is. After awhile, if I am willing to remain long enough with open hands, the Lord will come and look and roam through my hands to see what I have. The Lord may be surprised: so many things! Then, the lord will look at me and ask:
Would you mind if I take out this little bit? Would mind if I take this worry of yours, this fear, this insistence on your own way? Would you mind if I take this resentment, this bit of self-righteousness? Would you mind if I take this possession, this friend? Would you mind if I take a bit of your health? Or your wealth? would you Mind? 
 
And I answer: Of course you may take it out. That’s why I am here with open hands.
 
 
And perhaps the Lord will look another time at me and ask:
Would you mind if I put something else in your hands? Would you mind if I give you some new vision, a bit more tolerance, more patience, more hope? Would you mind if I make your heart more pliable? Would you mind if I make your yearning for me deeper? Would you mind if I give you a new talent, help you discover a new gift? Would you be open to a new friend in your life? Would you mind if I make your love more consuming, more burning, more total?
And I answer: Of course you may take it out. That’s why I am here with open hands. 

This image, a drawing from 2004, created as part of this meditation. Maybe I’ll do this again today…Happy New Year!

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Go into the dark, have faith in the light

Posted on December 21, 2011 by Melanie

The winter solstice. One of my favorite days of the year, the shortest day, the longest night, where I anticipate the return of early sunrises and late sunsets. These dark nights and even darker mornings enhance my already champion-like sleep tendencies, encouraging me to slow down, sleep, rest, recharge and reflect. It asks me to go to those dark places in my soul, with faith that the light will come. The dark challenges me to let go, to trust, to love, to reach out, to release, to anticipate new life, new beginnings.

Lullaby
My little lack-of-light, my swaddled soul,   
December baby. Hush, for it is dark,   
and will grow darker still. We must embark   
directly. Bring an orange as the toll   
for Charon: he will be our gondolier.   
Upon the shore, the season pans for light,   
and solstice fish, their eyes gone milky white,   
come bearing riches for the dying year:   
solstitial kingdom. It is yours, the mime   
of branches and the drift of snow. With shaking   
hands, Persephone, the winter’s wife,   
will tender you a gift. Born in a time   
of darkness, you will learn the trick of making.   
You shall make your consolation all your life.   
                             Amanda Jernigan

 

The gift, the gift of light, of spring, of whatever Persephone decides to bring. This advent season when so many men and women around the world celebrate the coming of Christ, I look for the gift of light from this dark place of the longest day. I look for that place where I can trust and abandon my cares, my worries, my useless anxieties, where I learn whatever tricks I need to make my way to the light, even in the darkest days.

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Lost in the Moon

Posted on December 8, 2011 by Melanie

Why do we like the art we like? This question continually amazes and entertains me. I love going to museums, galleries and art fairs with Doug because we like dramatically different types of work. I consider this when making my own work, how does my audience respond to what I create? Which pieces do they like the most? When making prints, one can find this out fairly quickly by how quickly an edition sells out.

This print:

is a favorite of many, many people. I wonder why this one, compared to all the other prints I’ve made in the past six months. Why are so many people attracted to this print. It’s a small edition, only eight, and only two remain.  (Let me know if you want one of them!)

But this is part of a greater question, what kinds of art do we like? Is it predictable? While at Art Basel this summer, my colleague Jonathan Secor, Director of Special Programs at MCLA could predict by the end of the week work I might like. Now, thanks to some crazily innovative engineers, you might be able to find more of the art that you might like with a click of your mouse, or a tap to your smart phone.

Enter art.sy  http://art.sy/pages/about

I first encountered this at Art Basel this summer, it was featured out and about at the fair, and is now beginning to broaden its marketing as it gets ready to be released to the world. Check it out, get on the invite list. Discover more art!

Posted in Cool Stuff, Prints | Comments Off

Gratitude

Posted on November 24, 2011 by Melanie

The universe gives so much, and I am grateful for it. I am blessed to have an incredibly supportive significant other, family, and friends; a gorgeous home; a job that I like; a great project (PRESS); my health and regular art/yoga/running practices. To all of YOU, the people that make all these things possible, I thank you. I wish you each the sweetness and joy of your favorite treat, whatever that may be, to be with you as you go forward into this holiday season.

This Thanksgiving, I spent it with Doug and his family here in the Berkshires. We decided to shake things up in the dessert department, forgoing the traditional tarts and pies and going with a couple of my ridiculous cakes. I made a salted-caramel six-layer chocolate cake and a lemon pistachio crunch cake with a white chocolate ganache icing. Ridiculous.

Here they are, on their lovely cake stands. The cake stand in the foreground is the milk glass stand that my mother gave me a year ago. Sometimes I think the only reason why I make cakes is so I can use the cake stand. The one in the background, with the incredible dome, Doug got me. So now I have two ridiculous stands to adorn with sweetness. But this salted caramel six-layer chocolate cake, it will change your life. It’s decadent and delicious and really should be outlawed. One piece is enough sweetness for days, maybe even months. I can’t wait to make it again!

I thank my mother for parting with the beloved cake stand. I know it was tough for her, but do use it regularly and with delight! I am thankful that she taught me to love baking and cooking and all the home arts, and look forward to having more time to share these arts with family and friends.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Posted in Cake/Tart/Deliciousness, Family | Comments Off

Anniversaries

Posted on November 16, 2011 by Melanie

Anniversaries.

We have one every year, our anniversary with life, the day we were born.

But there are  other kinds of anniversaries. Weddings, life milestones, tragic events, deaths of loved ones. Many of these anniversaries are private, unnoticed by those around us. We silently remember our sisters, mothers, fathers, grandparents, babies, brothers, friends who are no longer with us, and we go forward.

Grief paralyzes. It consumes the soul like a snake consuming a tiny creature. It can swallow you whole, into a darkness that seems impenetrable.  I understand why one would observe a year of mourning. The rawness of loss lessens as the year goes by. Today is one of those silent days. Yesterday might become that sort of a day for a friend whose father just passed away. All around us, these silent days. I won’t talk about it, but I acknowledge it. I say hello to it. I remember, and I made it through the hardest part.

Mary Oliver always has words for moments like this. The glimmer of peace that is there, waiting, as I find my way back to the path, out of the forest of sadness.

After Her Death
I am trying to find the lesson
for tomorrow. Matthew something.
Which lectionary? I have not
forgotten the Way, but, a little,
the way to the Way. The trees keep whispering
peace, peace, and the birds
in the shallows are full of the
bodies of small fish and are
content. They open their wings
so easily, and fly. It is still
possible.
 
                 I open the book
which the strange, difficult, beautiful church
has given me. To Matthew. Anywhere.

 

Posted in Poetry | 1 Comment

11-11-11

Posted on November 11, 2011 by Melanie

I love number games like 11-11-11, and the joy of making a wish at 11:11 on 11-11-11. I often determine the number of an edition of prints or artist books by number significance. And as I chat with friends and acquaintances today, I find that I am not alone in this.

My dad has the same fascination with numbers as I do.  I’m sure that’s why it gives me joy to watch my odometer turn over, to randomly come across number patterns, and to see the Fibonacci sequence in action.

One of my favorite number stories is my dad’s birthday, 3-10-39. He was born at midnight between 3-9-39 and 3-10-39. His mother (not a number junkie) chose the even number, thinking that was more auspicious. My dad, looks back at this as a missed opportunity for 39-39. But now he has this number story, and we can all marvel and wonder at how one becomes a number junkie. Are you born that way? Does something happen to you during childhood that makes you fascinated with numbers? I’m not particular good with numbers when it comes to adding, subtracting or calculus. But I love spatial puzzles and number games/patterns.

I look at number patterns with great wonder. I never fail to delight over 11:11, or when I glance at the clock and it’s 10:29 (my birthday) or when I see the number seven in some pattern, image, etc. These number patterns give me the same delight that seeing a rainbow does.

This wonder brings surprise and desire to know more together. I want to reread Philip Fisher’s Wonder, the Rainbow and the Aesthetics of Rare Experiences again, to read his examples of how wonder draws together pleasure, thinking, and the aesthetic features of thought. 

 

Posted in Family | 1 Comment

Did I tell you I’m reading my poetry on Thursday?

Posted on November 9, 2011 by Melanie

This Thursday, now to take place at Gallery 51, I’ll be participating in the inaugural reading of the PRESS POETRY SERIES. Jason Peabody, the summer associate gallery manager and current marketing and outreach intern, has put together this fabulous event! (Thank you Jason!!) It looks like a great line-up! Abbott Cutler, Barry Sternlieb and Hannah Fries! We’ll begin at 7:30 p.m. at Gallery 51 and it will be followed by a reception with refreshments at PRESS.

I’ll be reading some poems about running, many date back from memories of running in the Caribbean. The ones I’m reading are a bit dark. The poems about blissful running are still being written. Maybe I’ll have them ready at our reading in March…keep reading my blog for updates! But in the meantime, if you plan on coming on Thursday, email us letterpress105 [at] gmail [dot] com.

Posted in Exhibits, Letterpress, Poetry, Press | Comments Off

Happy Birthday!

Posted on October 29, 2011 by Melanie

Today, October 29th, the day I was born.

I take liberty with a selection from Vacillation by William Butler Yeats in honor of this day:

My forty-second year had come and gone, 
I sat, a solitary woman,
In my quiet kitchen,
an open book and empty cup
on the granite countertop
 
While on the backyard and forest I gazed
My body of a sudden blazed;
And twenty minutes more or less
It seemed, so great my happiness,
That I was blessed and could bless.

 

Maybe you’ve had that feeling of blessedness on your birthday, feeling the love that created you, and allowed you to be born. I strive to cultivate that feeling within myself and with how I interact with others, all throughout this year.

I know it will be challenging. I have my shadow side as we all do. But I have faith, too.

FAITH
The word Faith means when someone sees 
a dew-drop or a floating leaf, and knows
That they are, because they have to be.
And even if you dreamed, or closed your eyes
And wished, the wold would still be what it was,
And the leaf would still be carried down the river.
 
It means that when someone’s foot is hurt
By a sharp rock, he also knows that rocks
Are here so they can hurt our feet.
Look, see the long shadows cast by the tree;
And flowers and people throw shadows on the earth:
What has no shadow has no strength to live. 
        Czeslaw Milosz, translated by Robert Hass and Robert Pinksy with Renata Gorczynski
 

My mom said that she remembers a big snow storm that day in 1969, so I like to look at tonight’s storm as a reminder of that day. I had at least eight different ideas for how I wanted to spend the night, but the snow changed all of that, prompting me to look at this new year with the following attitude: Plan as best you can,  things will happen beyond your control, yet you can still have a really great time.

Posted in Family, Poetry | 1 Comment