If you were a door – what kind of door would you be?
Sculpting a Creative Life
Thankful for good light today (still wearing long underwear but at least I could shed two down layers and the fleece/wool Carhartt hat). Brave little buds have begun to appear in trees and on the ground much to my relief -helpful encouragement after an unusually delayed spring.
I leapt into the project the morning after my arrival as if jet lag wouldn’t catch me. The weather has been unseasonably COLD since my arrival in Bhutan. After two days at the job site finishing the panel with the snow leopard I carved last year, I got sick. But I continued carving the little rabbit cheered me up as I struggled to carve in the cold with a cold and very little good light.
Last year while in Bhutan I read about the painter Asha Kama, fell in love with his work and was heartened by his commitment to public service. Determined to meet Asha Kama I asked around. Yesterday my dream came true via my dear friend Dilu. I haven’t a clue just were to start gushing about my visit to VAST (the only contemporary art center in Bhutan which is also dedicated to interactive social community programs). Asha means “uncle” – even the king addresses Kama with the special distinction of “uncle” because of all he has done for the youth and elderly in Bhutan. Uncle indeed…! Asha Kama is a powerhouse and a delight. I look forward to fostering our friendship and doing what I can to support the lively youth and stellar vision of VAST.
Two weeks have leapt, spun, crawled, tickled and tortured me since I left Montana to embark on the second chapter in the carving project for the king of Bhutan. Time is a trickster.
Can I just say….”PHEW?!” Today is my first day off since I arrived. Unseasonable cold, wet and snowy weather challenged me to the max since I am carving outdoors and have only natural light to see by (not because electricity and light don’t exist in Bhutan but because the only artificial light source is florescent which doesn’t work at all when carving relief – besides the fact that florescent light literally makes me crazy). I woke my third morning here with a nasty cold after two bone-chilling long carving days. Luckily the cold waited until after dinner with the governor in his home before it clutched my innards, clogged my lungs and zapped my bones.
But I kept carving. I even crammed two sawhorses into my room to carve with more warmth in near darkness next to the window while snow blew sideways outside.
Magic, happiness and soul food are fast friends in this magical kingdom. But a few days ago I found myself pushed to a tender edge – raw and emotional. Fragile. I desperately needed a break before I broke. My dear friend Dilu offered me refuge at the splendid Druk Hotel which he manages in Thimphu. After a breath-taking and life-threatening 3 hour steep narrow mountainous ride I arrived weary and teary in Thimphu to the delight of finding a claw foot TUB in my room. Sweetness and relief (tubs are rare here). I awoke early this morning cocooned in sumptuous comforting sheets, serenaded by city dogs enthusiastically barking their Sunday morning “revival meeting.” I am calmed by the elegant beauty and healing tones in my spations well-lit warm room – full of gratitude. This gift of a room is like a light sponge cake slice of heaven. Pure delight.
I left Montana a week ago already (seems like much longer ago). My first post enroute to Bhutan:
The impressive land/snow mass presence of Mount Rainier pumped my spirit with belief and strength as we flew by. Not so long ago I found myself on that summit in borrowed snow gear, rented boots and crampons – my first snow/glacier/mountain summit embarked upon rather blindly as a distraction/reaction to deep grief of suddenly losing my dear dog Shiva. Life presents summits, none of which come by without the not-so-simple ability to put one foot in front of the other in unfamiliar and even extreme conditions while belief and disbelief dance with each other. Powered by the drum beat of persistence. Compelled. Scared. Humbled. Intrigued. Here I go again – not the ice crystal snow ghost mountain but a creative endeavor in a tiny fairytale country undertaken as a gift for a king.
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So much “Cliffness” in such a little critter. He would have loved it…!
Nearly half of the edition already pre-sold. Linda (my mother-in-law) is going to take care of shipping bronzes while I chip away in Bhutan on the carving for the king and his family.
I began this little bugger early last year. I hadn’t planned on creating an owl for 2016 (I had a another critter in mind) but early in the year an owl visited me on a full moon night. I filmed the Great Horned Owl while it sat like a sentinel on top of my beloved tree. Perfect shaped and majestic, the giant Fir tree a picturesque silhouette on starry nights between my bedroom window and the twinkling lights of Livingston below. The tree greeted me each time I drove home to my cabin at the end of the road near the top of this mountain. During the holidays I was always tempted to light it up with a huge star on top for everyone in the valley below to enjoy. We suffered and celebrated more than two decades together. The tree scourged summer after summer by Spruce Bud Worms during the last years.
After a particularly difficult winter for both of us, the tree seemed to bounce back with vigor. That spring it looked better than it had in years and I thought, “We are survivors, you and me, dear tree…we have this…!” Looking back, it is as if the tree rallied for me, knowing I needed a boost and some confidence, I drew strength from its strength.
I hated to ask Cliff to cut it down because Cliff had back and shoulder pain issues; old injuries from his logging days. I complained to Raymond about the negative “Feng Shui” that comes from such a large dead thing in our front yard. But what a perfect perch for a giant owl. The full moon night visit from the owl was poignant. Remarkable. I had a sense it carried a message and thought the message had something to do with my mother – perhaps the owl was letting me know 2016 would be mother’s final year. Raymond asked for Cliff’s assistance to cut the tree down in February as I birthday present surprise while I was in Panama. Of course Cliff made quick business of the tree and landed it perfectly so that it wouldn’t squish any of the young trees sprouting everywhere. Cliff cut the trunk of the tree into perfect rounds which became seats for guests at our wedding. The stumps sit in an Aspen Grove near my studio.
A few months after my return from Panama, Cliff comforted me on the morning I called Hospice for assistance to continue care for my mother in her home. Cliff took mom cookies and then he died on the same day Raymond cut the path in the meadow where Cliff was to walk me down the aisle on my wedding day. An owl perched on the tallest tree next to the Yellowstone River when Raymond, Wynn and I launched a home made flotilla with some of Cliff’s ashes in the moonlight.
Again and again I picked up the little lump of “owlish” clay but I simply could not create. Two weeks ago as I gave a stranded motorist a ride to his home up Paradise Valley, a giant Great Horned Owl owl flew past my truck window and looked directly at me. Those of you who know Cliff know he was legendary for the assistance he gave friends, family and strangers alike. I knew it was time to finish the little owlet. Emotional but healing, the little sculpture began to find itself while a fire crackled in my studio.
I finished the little bugger yesterday. Upon sending a photo to my girlfriend Wynn, she texted, “OMG. It looks like him. Did u do that intentionally?” Honestly I did not…but I felt so much of Cliff while working on his owl that of course “Cliffness” emanates from the owlet.
Crying as I write this, feeling is part of healing topped with gratitude. Not many are gifted with a “Cliff” in their life. He was one-of-a-kind, gentle, strong and damn loyal. The tears are good – the kind of gold that comes from loving and being loved. I felt renewed energy in my step early this morning as Tala and I walked through falling snow to my studio.
Chapter after chapter, critter after critter and plenty of blessings…
When you get carded at the liqueur store buying goodies to celebrate your 50th birthday AND the memorable weekend away brings lots of warm fuzzies and fond memories shared with my husband (who spoils me) his folks (who are family) and friends (the best). Plus an extra bonus day celebration President’s day when twelve girlfriends soaked with me at the Boiling River while wearing lingerie… (lotsa giggles and goosebumps)