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RESTORING MY SOUL

I go for a run this morning; dancing and stopping and restoring my soul.


“Whenever you are creating beauty around you, you are restoring your own soul.”

Alice Walker


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ALLEY LIFE

The edition “The Island” will have a chine-collé with relief matrix over the lithographic layers. I’ve started to draw out the island and Gaylord Lake on the matrix.

The Island copy 4

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Out & About south of the river today Noteworthy Paper and Press has reopened their newly located & renovated gift and print shop and it is wonderful.

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SATURDAY

Saturday and in the early first light I go on an 8 mile run along the river stopping at the bend to watch the mist, I do the laundry, bring back a bounty of our ‘winter harvest’ vegetable share from the market, walk endlessly about with the cat on my shoulders in the afternoon sun, count the fallen leaves, pick a few remaining apples . . . YA) my life is burning with beauty.

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“Beauty is something that burns the hand when you touch it.”

Yukio Mishima | Forbidden Colors

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THE APPLE

I ate this apple for breakfast this morning. It was a deLIGHT. I stopped and picked it from the apple tree in our yard yesterday. It was, in all ways, prefect.

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LITTLE TRICKLES OF SILENCE

Time to make your reservation for a chat and visit to toMAKE™; now through November 19th M-Sa 10 to 5 you’re invited to stop by during #coffeeneuring and I’ll make you a cup of coffee; espresso, cappuccino, pour-over, caffè latte or tea. I don’t do cup art and there is no charge. . . but you do have to stop and drink it in the shop with me. Please make a reservation; so eMail, text or call me beforehand. Just click on the mug to the right for the link if you do not already have my contact & location information; introduce yourself, your liquid preference, and suggested day & times.

“—I have drunk fresh, cold little trickles of silence.”

Federico García Lorca | Meditations and Allegories on Water (tr. C. Maurer)


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'the blue of the always unpublished sky'

the 68th birthDAY trip . . . ‘my heart went to a church whose location it doesn't know’

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I'm writing on a Sunday, late morning, on a day filled with soft light, on which, above the rooftops of the interrupted city, the blue of the always unpublished sky closes the mysterious existence of stars in oblivion . . .
It's Sunday inside me as well . . . My heart is also going to a church whose location it doesn't know, and it goes dressed in a child's velveteen outfit, with its face red from the first impressions of smiling without sad eyes over its oversized collar.


Fernando Pessoa (1888-1935) | The Book of Disquiet #68 [n.d.; after 1923]

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SUNDAY BESIDE THE CREEK

We took our Sunday walk along the Rattlesnake Creek and it was slow, quiet, enveloping, the present moment ours. We had to stop and said nothing or what we said was forgotten in the creek corridor being washed downstream with the leaves and the rocks and the wind. On the way back it was cold in the early evening shade, days are shorter now; less than 11 hours of daylight and growing shorter every day.

“We are living in a culture entirely hypnotized by the illusion of time, in which the so-called present moment is felt as nothing but an infinitesimal hairline between an all-powerfully causative past and an absorbingly important future. We have no present. Our consciousness is almost completely preoccupied with memory and expectation. We do not realize that there never was, is, nor will be any other experience than present experience. We are therefore out of touch with reality. We confuse the world as talked about, described, and measured with the world which actually is. We are sick with a fascination for the useful tools of names and numbers, of symbols, signs, conceptions and ideas.” Alan Watts


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Stop by toMAKE™ for Espresso & a Chat with the Printer

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October 13th through November 19th M-F 10 to 5 you’re invited to stop by toMAKE™ during the 7th annual Coffeeneuring Event and I’ll make you a cup of coffee; espresso, cappuccino, pour-over, caffè latte or tea. I don’t do cup art and there is no charge. Bring your own mug or choose from my selection in the print room. You do have to stop and drink it in the shop with me. If my hands are inky you might have to pour your own (I’m busy on a new edition after all). AND you should check out the official rules if you are doing Coffeeneuring, otherwise just come on over by the alley bulletin board.

You’ll need to make a reservation first; so eMail, text or call me beforehand. Just click on the mug to the right for the link if you do not already have my contact & location information; please introduce yourself, your liquid preference, and suggested day & times.

I use filtered water from the Missoula aquifer, freshly roasted organic beans from Blackcoffee; Costa for espresso, Ethiopian Sidama for pour-over, have Yogi Tea Vanilla Hazelnut & Licorice Mint herb teas, or Tazo Zen green tea. I use local organic whole milk (if you need an alternative you should bring it) and there is a wee bit of sugar & honey around someplace and unsweetened vanilla extract.

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the Image Gallery is online

A lot has happened since I last posted to this blog… too much recount but in coming days I’ll try. I’ve made some images available for friends in several folders. They tell the story of several memorable events and trips. The image gallery is located here.

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July 8th I completed the Beaverhead 55K Ultra run; a 35 miles adventure along the continental divide between Idaho and Montana.

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August 21st I drove to the Mount Borah trailhead in the Lost Creek Valley of Idaho to experience the total eclipse of the sun.

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September 28th I hiked the 22 mile Dawson-Pitamaken loop in Glacier-Waterton NP for my 68th birthday.

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October 6-7-8 we delighted in the wedding celebration of our son Nate and now daughter-in-law Ursula.


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on the planet the winds are blowing

Beside, stop’d and listening . . . the river Flathead, waters sourced in the crown of the continent. June 17th traveling west. Using the Real-So-Subtle 6x6 120 format pinhole f/135 with RVP 100 film.

June 17 2017 West

“What else is going on right this minute while ground water creeps under my feet? The galaxy is careening in a slow, muffled widening. If a million solar systems are born every hour, then surely hundreds burst into being as I shift my weight to the other elbow. The sun’s surface is now exploding; other stars implode and vanish, heavy and black, out of sight. Meteorites are arcing to earth invisibly all day long. On the planet the winds are blowing: the polar easterlies, the westerlies, the northeast and southeast trades. Somewhere, someone under full sail is becalmed, in the horse latitudes, in the doldrums; in the northland, a trapper is maddened, crazed, by the eerie scent of the chinook, the sweater, a wind that can melt two feet of snow in a day. The pampero blows, and the tramontane, and the Boro, sirocco, levanter, mistral. Lick a finger: feel the now.”

Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

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My Astonishment

Stop’d while traveling east along Mont. highway 200 beside the river Flathead, watershed of the Columbia. Intentional stop to see, and observe and to experience my own astonishment; #34. Leonardo pinhole camera and weather gauge, RVP 4x5 in. iso100 film exposed 2 seconds f/250 up and down stream.

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“You were made and set here to give voice to this, your own astonishment. “The most demanding part of living a lifetime as an artist is the strict discipline of forcing oneself to work steadfastly along the nerve of one’s own most intimate sensitivity.” Anne Truitt, the sculptor, said this. Thoreau said it another way: know your own bone. “Pursue, keep up with, circle round and round your life… Know your own bone: gnaw at it, bury it, unearth it, and gnaw at it still.” Write as if you were dying. At the same time, assume you write for an audience consisting solely of terminal patients. That is, after all, the case.”

Annie Dillard, The Writing Life

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Again, the Song

A sunrise run in the north hills. YA) what places my feet take me. Again, the song. Shirt off but then the weather comes; cool and a light wind. Stopping, stepping, stillness into this wonderment of a day. I always try to go too far ….

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“Always go too far, because that’s where you’ll find the truth.”

Albert Camus

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stopping; again

Driving west on the blue highway 200, Missoula to Chewelah for Ash Wednesday services, I stop’d, again, along the Flathead River nearby the Perma bridge to Hot Springs. The snow was wet walking down to the point and a strong, fierce wind was blowing upstream. I could hear the waters’ living surface dancing and leaping. I had just one slide of 5by7 in. film in the bag. I took 5 second exposures, one upstream and one down with the #65 camera. Back in Chewelah I read off the max/min temperatures for the past couple of weeks; low 6℉ - high 52℉ … spring is here. Still reading Thomas Merton.

"My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone." Thomas Merton from Thoughts in Solitude

Flathead River


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