Thursday, September 29, 2016

To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow

Fall has arrived in thunderstorms, flurries of yellow leaves, and adventures in parenting.  My eldest is starting kindergarten, and he's now successfully and dutifully taking the bus each morning and returning mid afternoon like children have been doing for ages. 

September has always seemed more like the beginning of a year than January ever did. With a larder filled with caning and a root cellar full of apples, and squashes and potatoes.  Children go off to school and one settles in for semi hibernation of chill breezes, dank drafts, slippers, sweaters and indoors.   

However amidst the bedding down for the long winter's nap we cannot lose sight of spring.  As Audrey Hepburn once said - "To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow."   and with that in mind I would like to share with the few folks out in blog land who read my posts, that seed packets have been painted, proofs have been approved, and seed has been sourced.  In time for Christmas I will be offering a line of seed packets, these will have seed collected in 2016 and be fresh for the 2017 planting season.  These have been a long time coming and I'm quite excited by the news! 

Tuesday, May 3, 2016

time to smell the flowers.

I've just started a sabbatical leave.  Ultimately it is about spending more time raising my own children, but in some respects it couldn't have come at a better time.  I as I pick up all the pieces and try to make sense of what's left.  My days are busy, consumed by the minutiae of day to day life and the pace of childhood.  I have children and they fill my time in ways I never imagined.  someone once said it, I'm not sure who,  - that  both those with and without children feel sorry for each other.   They are busy little creatures that take up all your time.  The questions are never ending and the pace is slow.  Or at least at this stage the pace of is slow.
Pole Beans
Watercolour, (7.5 x 11 inch )
©RiverWalker Arts 
It is nice to not constantly be rushing little feet and little minds.  They stroll, they stop constantly to admire the shape of a branch, or an ant making its way across the sidewalk.  And so I too am slowing my steps and making more of the journey and less of the destination.  It might take 40 minutes for us to get our shoes and coats on to get out the door, and maybe we only make it half a block before we turn around, but that is ok.  In that half a block we have explored puddles, and bugs and listened for garbage trucks and aircraft overhead.   I am more aware of my surroundings and I have some very small companions to thank. ... and maybe this is why basket weaving, however droll seems somewhat fitting at this point.

©RiverWalker Arts
Watercolour (5x7 inch) 

Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Basket Weaving

My art show at the local gallery has come to an end.  While I wasn’t lucky enough to sell any of the art work, I do now have people come up to me in town and say “oh wow you are Coral the ARTIST!”  The Coral.  I smile and they tell me how they bought my book.

I’ve recently learned to basket weave.  Laugh though you might - this is really quite the craft.  In this case it involves willows hacked off the side of the road and somehow I’ve managed to create something that holds together enough to actually transport stuff. I’ve decided it is the perfect campground craft as it can be abandoned in the dirt at any moment unharmed, while the myriad of broken bits of sticks can be fed to the fire to keep my fingers warm.
Copyright RiverWalker Arts.