An Aha Moment in Skagway, Alaska

At precisely 10:47 AM on a misty gray morning in Skagway, Alaska, I had an enormous
 Aha! Moment - triggered by this fabric pattern:

I'm not 100 percent sure who the artist is that drew this happy group, but the palette and line work makes me think it is Helen Dardik -I apologize if it isn't, and would love to hear from anyone out there who does know. 

Now, this is a little complex, so bear with me here.

Skagway is nestled in a cove at the end of the Lynn Canal, off Chilkoot Inlet, with towering emerald green mountains draped around it - the gate keepers to the Klondike Gold Fields.   A pretty town, it is frothing with gorgeous blooms that drink in the cool, moist air.

  

We arrived by water, like most visitors do, and were given the day to explore. 

As we strolled the downtown area, I spied a quilt shop sign down a side street.
  

I'm not a quilter, but felt compelled to turn down the street to investigate.  After all, 
it takes art to make quilting fabric, and I was missing that kind of thing.  

Never mind that we were seeing jaw dropping art sliding past our ship every minute of every hour, I was craving the human-rendered connection to those miraculous vistas; patterns, color charts, and Photoshop in use by humans to capture the power of nature.

The magic stuff, you know?

Struggling through the crowds on the boardwalk that resulted from about 7,000 people being poured out of the cruise ships in the harbor, I made my way to the little doorway.

  

Well.

It looked like a good portion of those people were packed into this one tiny shop, the 

 Rushin' Tailor Quilt Shop.

Turning sideways, I eased into the foyer and wriggled my way over to the left wall, where cut pieces were neatly folded into bundles with belly bands, stacked from floor to ceiling.  

Photo by The Rushin Tailor's Quilt Shop in Skagway, Alaska

  Something from Week 1 of  Lilla Rogers' Make Art That Sells  class tugged at my brain.

As I hung there in a space of my own, zooming up and down the corridors of my mind, chasing that tantalizing clue, a little girl eased up beside me and stroked the fabric bundles in the basket thoughtfully.  She already had a piece held carefully in her hand, and she spoke to her father, who was squeezed in behind her.  "I like this one, too...".  I looked around me and saw the same thing going on all over the shop.  Men, women, and children were carefully studying and comparing the thousands of bundles packed into every available nook and cranny, and their faces held a quiet pleasure I had seen nowhere else on this trip.  

I felt like I had walked into a chapel. 

I picked up the bundle of Llama fabric and suddenly, the Lilla Lesson came into sharp focus, running like Surround Sound in my head.  Every single item in the shop was the result of someone's artwork.   An Art Director had bought or licensed the art to use on fabric.  This fabric.  Suddenly, I wasn't just looking at a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes anymore, 

I was DISSECTING the designs, automatically!

See?  Here is one of the main characters from that fabric - a Placement Graphic:

Notice the eye contact, and the sweet, open face that says, "I like myself, and I like you. "

It is part of this fabric design, but it could also be pulled out and used by itself on a child's back pack, wall decal, pencil case, etc.

See these mountains?  See how they overlap and create a whole new motif to look at?  That little overlap area could readily be pulled out and made into a whole new design for a coordinating fabric, or a stand-alone design.

And this little guy could be lifted right out and centered on a child's T shirt - throw on a pair of purple pants, and you have a cutie-patootie outfit!

See what I mean?  Dissected. So many motifs in that one pattern, in yummy colors, that could be pulled out and used in clothing, children's tableware, bedding, wall art and decals.  That is what Lilla kept pounding into our lessons - give the Art Director who is looking at your work some Bang For their Buck.  Give them a lot in every design. 

I wasn't able to see the promise in these individual icons, until my Aha Moment - during the six week course, submissions by my classmates looked like random collections of artfully drawn and colored shapes, pasted onto the requisite 8 x 10 file.  I couldn't see the "X Factor" in many of the ones she selected to review, until 10:47 AM, Skagway time.  I got it!  

Good.  This isn't going to be easy, so I'm off to practice.  
A lot.

Thank you for visiting with me!

Be Careful What You Wish For...

This past weekend, it was around 105 degrees in Atlanta, Georgia. It was Stupid Hot.

Husband decided that the only thing to do was blow out of town up into the mountains of North Carolina - to one of our favorite places, Pisgah Inn.   I strenuously objected, because the forecast for the Pisgah Inn called for unusually high temperatures - 83 degrees during the day, and 77 degrees at night.  Pisgah Inn has NO AIR CONDITIONING 

because normally, you don't need it.

The discussion took an ugly turn when he informed me with a cheesy grin 

that he had booked a room.  Period.

I was furious.  I was not nice to him for two days.  But I packed my bags and got in the truck.

As we neared Asheville, the thermometer in the truck registered the outside temperatures at 107...104...102 degrees.  Too hot, too hot.

Around 4,000 feet of elevation, the temperature was at 83 degrees.  Husband pleaded with me to enjoy the scenery and be happy for that 20 degree drop.  I informed him that to make me happy, he had to get it another 20 degrees lower - to around 63 degrees.   So he announced:  "I can do that!  Just watch!"  He hates for us to argue, so I grudgingly rolled my eyes and played the game.  "Sure, honey!  I believe in you!"

At 5000 feet, the Pisgah Inn came into sight.  We pulled in to register and pick up our room key.  It was 81 degrees, a hot blue sky, with a fitful breeze.  I was dismayed - the room was like an oven when we walked in.  

Photo of room at Pisgah Inn

Husband pulled on his sneakers and sped out the door to go hike one of the forest trails...anything to get out of my range.

He'd been gone about 30 minutes when I heard the first rumble of thunder.  I had the door open so that the little breeze could sweep some of the heat out of the room, and suddenly the sky got dark, the wind started gusting through the room, and big rain drops started to spatter down. Before I could make it to the door to check the sky, I heard what sounded like rocks hitting the front of the hotel and my jaw dropped when an ice pellet the size of a plum whizzed through the room and disappeared over the balcony, followed by a half dozen others.  

I struggled with the door against the wind and slammed it closed.  Peering through the tiny window, I saw shredded foliage, small limbs and ICE raining down on the lawn and parking lot.  Big ice.  Big hail.  The wind was howling, it was pouring rain and lightening was crackling down all over the place.  Followed by ear-splitting thunder.  

And my husband was out in this maelstrom - bare headed, with only a T Shirt and Shorts on, and out of cell phone range.

The storm raged for about 20 minutes, and finally started to slack off.  This is what it looked like after it finally stopped:

The grass was completely covered with hail!

  

The parking lot was littered with foliage and ice and damaged cars.

After about 30 minutes, I walked toward the office to see about sending someone to look for my Husband - I was frantic with worry by now.   And suddenly, there he was, pulling into the parking lot.  He got out of his truck, and I started toward him.  He looked like a drowned rat, but he had a BIG SMILE on his face.  "Come here, come here!" he was saying.  When I got to the truck, he said, "Look!" and pointed to the thermometer.

It said 61 degrees.  He said, "I told you I could do it!"

Be careful what you wish for.

Just for the record, he was protected by the slope of the hill he was on...the storm approached from the back side, so he was in the lee and thankfully, didn't get the full force of it.   But he did say that hail pounding on your bare head HURTS!  He makes me crazy.

Trains, Mountains, and Stepping Back In Time

My Husband continually delights me.  He knows I am enchanted with trains; knows that the sound of a train horn always lights me up, and if we are anywhere near where the track is, I will scoot over there to watch the train go by, and wave at the conductor.  So this weekend, he surprised me with this treat:

A train excursion on the Blue Ridge Scenic Railway.  I purely, simply, loved it.

The train departs from Blue Ridge, Georgia, and winds its way through the mountains and valleys to the old copper mining towns of  McCaysville, GA and Copperhill, TN - twin cities that actually straddle the state line between Georgia and Tennessee.

 On the way to the Ladies Room in the pub, I crossed over the state line...not often that one can do that.

  After a stroll through McCaysville, a cold beer at the pub and a quick jaunt through the shops, you load back on the train for the return trip to Blue Ridge.  

 Our train in McCaysville.

The Conductor asks that you change sides from the ride down, so that Everyone gets to see Everything.  A perfect plan, which everyone followed.

 How could you NOT do what this cheerful man asked?

But, I'm getting ahead of myself...I should start in Blue Ridge.

Blue Ridge is so quaint, with a little of the new and a lot of old...these squash and pumpkins were on the steps of a restaurant named "Harvest On Main".  They strive to use only locally grown products, and their herbs are grown in beds right out front.  Along with Brussels Sprouts!

Their Sage and Brussels Sprouts, right at the front door.

This chicken got fussy if you got in her way...although she was right in the middle of downtown.  Apparently, she held the Deed to the corner we discovered her on.

This Store was for lease, and of course, Husband had to take a peek at that.

Finally, it was time to load up and depart Blue Ridge.  I was sooo excited, and hung out the window, snapping pictures from the beginning.

I would love to hang my clothes in the sun to dry like this, but I don't have a clothesline!  May be time to put one up.  Some of you will remember the smell of sun-dried sheets and pillowcases... 

A peek at the engineer in the cab - we were in the open car right behind him, so we could really get a good blast when he blew the horn.  It was great!

Once we were away from town, the sights were amazing.  I felt like we had been thrown back in time, and to another world.

These horses were relaxing near the Red Barn pictured above.  The Conductor said they were Summer Horses.  I'm not a horse person, so I wasn't sure what that meant!  Maybe someone could fill me in?

               A lot of leaves had already fallen, leaving silvery bare branches that added to the beauty of the Fall landscape.

 A mysterious stone hut in the middle of a dead forest, in a little valley caught my eye...no explanation was forthcoming from the Conductor.  May be a failed development?  It looked ancient, but couldn't have been.  The architecture wasn't right for the area.  But, a compelling scene.

There were not many houses to be seen along the way, but evidence of farming, even in the middle of woodsy valleys.

As we neared McCaysville, we crossed over this bridge that was built in 1911.  A little rusty, yes?

Coming in to McCaysville... That's the Ocoee River on the right.  It was the Toccoa River before we crossed the bridge.  Because now, we're in Tennessee!

On the way back from McCaysville, we passed small cottages beside the river, making me remember my grandfather's little fishing hut on a creek that ran into the Tennessee River.  We had good times there, running his trot-lines and cooking all our meals over an open campfire.  There is nothing like fresh catfish, fried in a kettle over an open fire with the moon coming up over the water, and sleeping pallets laid out on the ground...right beside the Creek.

The Sun was going down behind the mountains, and the moon was coming up as we got closer back to Blue Ridge,
but

these fly fishermen were still out in the dusk, oblivious to time...

I can remember doing the very same thing, on the Tennessee River.  It just means you have to clean your fish by lantern light.  All the better.  You've made good use of your day.

As I felt we did.  If you are ever in the area, do plan to take this trip.  If nothing else, you'll be made to remember how important it is to get away from your desk and smell the ancient outdoors.  So important.

And, there's always the great wine, good food (get the salmon), and fabulous staff to be enjoyed at the
Blue Ridge Brewery
right there on Depot Street after you end your trip.  Lovely.

Big Points, Husband!

Diagonals and Happiness

This week, I've been working on my entry for the Spoonflower Shark Design Contest, and after hours and hours of work and still coming back to the same design, it occurred to me why I'm doing that.  It's because the visuals that automatically get my attention and make my shoulders relax for a moment always have diagonal lines them:

That Trellis just had to be in there...had to.

Most all flowers make me smile, but the ones that were on top of the Rocky Mountains just grabbed me by the heart and eyes...take a look at all those diagonals pointing back to their centers:

Look at me, Look at me!

In Art School, they teach you the Rule of Threes and all about Diagonals leading in from the Upper Left, Lower Right, Lower Left...you get the picture.  They point to things and make your eyes Happy that they don't have to look around for the Most Important Part!

And then there are the Complicated Diagonals:

The Diagonal in this group is...the group of Hot Pink and Purple blooms spilling down from upper center left to lower right.  

Those hot pink and purple flowers spill diagonally across the picture, but what gives me so much pleasure in this group is the gentle curve in the line...feels soft and sensual, like relaxing against someone you love.

The very Stylish Vera knew all about the lines in any arrangement~

Look at this early photo of my Mother-In-Law, Vera.  She knew that the single diagonal strap on her bikini top was the perfect style point to catch the eye...not to mention the placement of her right arm and left leg for this photo.  They lead your eye right to her face, and the strap emphasizes...well, you know!

When we were traveling from Denver up to Keystone Lodge, we stopped about halfway to check out Georgetown, an old mining town that looked intriguing - plus it had a rest stop.  When we got out of the car, we were greeted with cool, dry air.  Which made us grin.  And all around us were towering peaks...diagonals pointing to the blue sky and back down to the perfect valley!

And it was there that I snapped the Happiest Diagonal photo of the trip:

I have no clue who this man is; when he saw I was taking enthusiastic pictures of the mountains with my Iphone, he happily jumped in front of the camera and posed with his arms raised in the classic, universal sign of Happy Victory.  Victory for escaping the heat of the plains below.  We laughed at each other without speaking - he moved away to his car and we got in ours.  I can't believe we never spoke, but shared such a happy moment. A Happy Diagonal moment.

 

Mountains, Clouds, Blogs & Being Passionate

We are famous for "Blasting Off" for a road trip on the absolute spur of the moment.  So when we got up on July 4th, stuck our arms outside to test the temperature (Hot) and humidity (Muggy) and considered that we had no coherent plan (again) for the July 4th Holiday, it was a lock that a Road Trip was imminent.  As in, immediately.

We went to the Blue Ridge Parkway last year and were delighted to find that even in August, the temperatures were lovely.  Not to mention that the view from the Pisgah Inn, on top of Mt. Pisgah, can be awe-inspiring when the clouds move in.   A quick call confirmed that they had two rooms left, and that there was a cold front coming.  After arranging for the room on the top floor (of course!) we roared out of town.


Upon arrival, we stepped out of the car to mist, clouds, and 64 degrees Fahrenheit, a solid 30 degrees cooler than the Coast!!  First thing I did was flee to the gift shop to purchase a sweatshirt.  With the forest still dripping after the storm, we slid through the foliage just to get wet and be chilly.  So refreshing, so lush! After a lovely dinner overlooking the valley below, we watched fireworks that were far, far below, then drifted to sleep under two blankets...


Next morning, this was the view from our balcony.  (I decided to do my photographs in Black and White for once)

Although the sun was brilliant, the clouds were gathering across the way.

Looking the other way, there was a stately old tree skeleton decorating the Horizon...

Two Winters ago, the temperatures were so frigid on the mountain that many trees simply died of the cold.  We were told that when the workers arrived to open the hotel for the Spring Season, it took over a week to clear all the fallen trees off the Parkway so that they could get to the hotel.  The forest is dotted now with these ghostly skeletons, which have a beauty of their own.

 After a vigorous morning of hiking for my husband, reading for me, and lunch, the storm clouds began to move in swiftly:

This is what I love about being on top of the mountain - you are literally residing in the clouds.

Since our balcony looked South, I was protected from the wind and rain, and could watch the storm in cozy safety.

You can see the swirl of the updrafts...

 The storm took its time, which was fine with me since I had a ringside seat to watch something that few people ever get to see - I could have watched all afternoon.

And then,  the storm gathered her skirts and marched off to the South:

You can see the steam already beginning to rise from the Valley in certain spots...

 I wanted to walk through the remnants of the clouds and feel the cool air, so I set off with my camera - and found so many happy plants, and  so many happy critters drinking down the raindrops!

After seeing all of this, walking in the clouds, and sleeping in the mists, I can hardly wait to get back in the studio and create something!

I spent my time on the mountain top resting, reading, and remembering how to See what I am looking at - a skill I quickly forget when Life intervenes.  But, this time, I was helped out not only by our trip to the Mountains, I was also inspired by a new Blog I found quite by accident while searching the internet for postings by Japanese writers.  I found Keiko, a story- teller from Nara, Japan.  And One Time One Meeting is her blog. 

Her inner eye is wide open and engaged, and her readers are treated to lovely photography which she uses to support her history and cultural lessons - which she is Passionate about.  My shoulders always come down from their perch up around my ears when I read her posts.  And I stop being guilty about being Passionate.  Because if one isn't, then why bother?

Now, I'm off to create something!