Our guide, Pablo explained to us about the sacred palm. We were hiking in the jungle of Sian Kan, the biosphere park reserve near Tulum. ” The palm is sacred to the Mayan people. The palm is their roof, their shelter from the heat, the hurricane and the rain. A good palm roof can last up to 30 years if the palm is properly harvested on the full moon. At that time the sap is running and the plant is full of protective minerals. If the palm is cut at any other time and the sap is low, the roof will last three years, no more.”

The beautiful aboreal gold green Vine Snake eats mostly lizards; lucky for the nesting birds and thier eggs. I did not spot this well camofloged snake. I tramped through the Yucatan jungle and wisely stayed on the trail, keeping a sharp eye out for scorpions or snakes. Thor Janson’s book Maya Nature made me aware of the presence of pit vipers including the formidable Fer-De-Lance.

COYOTE JAM

April 17, 2008

I am working with a book I got at Manzanita News in Manzanita Beach called Crone Trekking in Coyote Land: A Storymaking Book by local Nehalem author Gwendolyn Endicott. She retells the famous story of Coyote and the Cedar Tree. After I read the story, following her suggestion, I made a list of the images that I remembered from the story, chose one and drew it.

Later, when I did this with my 18-21 year old students, not one of them listed as an image Coyote trapped in the Cedar Tree calling out for help, and six out of sixteen of them drew the beam of light from outside the tree going down the little hole to Coyote. This still startles me, as I believe it is symbolic of each of our generations.

I understand what it is to be Coyote, caught in a jam of his own making, held unmoving in the grasp of a situation where the only remedy is to dismantle the self limb by limb, push the parts through the hole and to have to reassemble myself on the other side.

But what does it mean to be the age where I am the beam of light shining down the Woodpecker’s breathing hole to Coyote?

Raven Steals Coyote’s Eyeballs

The second image I did working with this story was Raven stealing Coyote’s eyeballs. This strikes me as macabre and funny; I always see Raven as some trickster shadow of death. Raven is gallows humor. Interestingly, three of my students also drew this image, but I’m already guessing they did so attracted by some very different energy than that which I perceived.

White Sea Otter Woman Brings the Gift of Eternal Life to the Nehalem People

The next story was “Ice and White Sea Otter Woman” in which Nehalem fishermen paddle to a spirit world, enter a shining lodge, find a beautiful woman, and the youngest asks her to come home with them. “And the woman came with the man willingly, carrying only a small, woven basket. She held the basket on her lap as the men made their long journey homeward, back toward Neahkahnie.”

I was drawn by that pure moment of willingness. She is sitting happily in the canoe and all is promise. She is bringing a wonderful bride gift to her new family.

Of course, this story doesn’t end well. Like Pandora’s box, the men get to thinking it might be a food box. It is trickster Ice who tears the box from her hands even though the others warn him, “Do not bother her; you do not know her.”

He sees with revulsion little living human beings in the basket and throws it overboard. Of course, she dives in after it saying, “Those are my lucky lifetimes,” the gift of eternal life she had been bringing to the people, lost now, and Ice and his buddies cursed to paddle forever. “The men paddled and paddled, but the harder they paddled, the further they drifted from Neahkahnie.”

At the beginning of Spring Break, the outer persona slips, and the soul named NightWinds is surprised in the act of thinking her mysterious, cave wall thoughts.

During Spring Break, the spiral that was so clearly front and center only a couple of weeks ago has become a left hand moon. Vast quantities of energy flow out of the prescribed circle of my life out into another universe.

March 31, the new term begins and the whole structure of multiple classrooms is thrown into an uncertain construction zone. The spiral has slipped in a puddle of blue water to become an underground lake. Three feathers are back at center, with a fourth and a fifth new friend coming in from the wings. Moons, seeds, centers of self-propelled energy are making their way through the still ill-defined labyrinth to find their place in the Great Mandala.

This drawing is a name I made up. It is a meander. I put my pencil on the page and do not lift it until I am ready. It differs from a contour drawing in that I am not looking at anything except my own memories.

March 29, 2008. We got up at oh dark hundred in order to meet our rock hound group in Kalama at 8 am. Soon I was once again thankful for our Subaru Forester slogging up a mountain road in 8″ of snow. In our group one vehicle after another just couldn’t cut it. We ended up getting three vehicles up the long timber road climbing snowy Green Mountain.

We entered a secret gate on Longview Fiber timberland. Our club president had permission to enter and the key. Still, I felt a little bit like we were sneaking in. I helped dig for carnelian for about an hour. I found one good specimen but soon lost my motivation. I retired to a warm car to observe a wood filling with snow. The trees, mostly Douglas fir and second growth. Impressive size. I had three hours to make this drawing, watch the snow fall, listen to the melting snow rustle and plop all around me. I took a long walk, taking care not to get lost on the many branching roads. No worries, my size 8 boot tracks were the only ones for miles. Except two sets of deer tracks, very fresh. I had the distinct impression they were peering at me. Also some other tracks, possibly cougar but not so fresh.

We made it home by 11 pm. Tom was so charged up over his booty that he took the time to clean each specimen. His hard work with a shovel produced many fine crystals and one really spectacular palm size red carnelian. One red carnelian, one nice drawing and a quiet day in pristine woods. No people except the rock hounds. A very good day.

I just want to point out the similarity between these two images!

I just spent the last week caring for my two grandchildren, 8 and 10 years. This chance to spend time with them during their regular routine is pure gold. Not a special occasion, just a regular school day while their parents take a much deserved second honeymoon. A miracle, really.

With the children off at school all day I suddenly realized that I did not have to actually “do” anything. For the first time in my life I felt that I had all of the time in the world. I gave myself the first day of spring by visiting Snoqualamie Falls and viewing Peregrine Falcons nesting on a cliff by the falls. They chose a pile of logs and sticks, seven feet across – an old eagle’s nest? The male hovering, meeting his mate in midair to pass her a bit of meat, a small bird most likely. She is off the nest each hour for 45 seconds only. She depends on her mate for her life.

But I digress. Time. I let the kids free swim for 45 minutes at the pool. So what dinner is late? I just watched them swim. I kept remembering the hours in the water – I was so intent on learning to swim, perfecting the underwater flips, learning to dive. Good memories – I was a kid once.

I return to my everyday life of making art, of selling art, and I feel that a certain time elasticity has been restored to me. It feels like more space inside my head and chest. This sketch is the skyline view of the Cascades from their home, the maple tree, the aspens and the valley filling with mist. No longer winter in spite of the heavy snow, but not quite spring.