It’s a beautiful warm fall day,
One that endears itself despite the season’s subtext.
Read morevisual explorations
There it is in the palm of your hand. A life laid out before you.
Read moreAround here folks wander country roads
For a stiff drink at an Iron Fish out in the whiskey fields.
It’s an alluring and motley crowd.
I’ll meet you there.
When the river rises to meet the sky
Misty gossamer
Reveals and obscures the mythic.
Sitting together in the barn looking out over fields of beautifully temperamental fall weather, we take stock.
Gathering hasn't been easy over the past year, so I am reminded of the luxury of sitting together as a group, a team, a family.
Read moreLast night, way up near the headwaters, work needed to be done.
The lodge and dam were looked over and patched up.
Food was gathered for the winter months.
Slowly the water is rising, expanding access and opportunity but only if the work is done.
Stick after stick, the work.
I've played around combining wash (basically painting pencil/graphite) and pencil a bit before but never landed on anything I liked, but this time i like where the combo landed. The wash softens the pencil marks a bit and helps with subtle toning water and hazy light through trees often requires.
There are a good amount of other "technical" art things I learned along the way on this one too (finally sort of understanding how to portray the amazing complexity of moving water) but this piece came about on the heels of finishing "Eager, the Surprising, Secret Life of Beavers and Why They Matter" by Ben Goldfarb, so I was thinking a lot about the life of beavers and what is going on in this image. The book covers the benefits these keystone creatures can bring to an area (increase wetland habitat, trap and redistribute nutrient rich sediments, help recharge local aquifers, improve water quality, to name a few) and the near-extinction woes they have faced over the years, from over-trapping them for their furs, to eradicating them from parts of the west for "messing with" irrigation to lethal removal when their activity affects housing or other infrastructure... and now, they are making a comeback and lauded as water and habitat heroes in some places... in a large part because we, as humans, took the time to really study these guys and learn how we could work together for some really amazing outcomes. Slowing down, observing, learning from and making space for the good work of others... good lessons/reminders... for me anyway.
Beavers (and so many plants and animals actually) continue to amaze and inspire me on many levels.
We love her vastness and blueness, repetition and randomness, hotness and coldness, refinement and chop.
With reverence, a place of centering, inspiration and a gift to the generations.
With neglect, a creeping turbulent mystery.
Our bays, creeks and landscapes have personalities of course, and she is a matriarch for our northern lives, embracing us all in her warm outstretched sandy arms.
Read moreThese same church bells chime in some of my earliest memories. A product of living near where I grew up.
I notice them most through the cicada gilded late summer air. It's so still and quiet you can hear dragonfly wings out in the garden.
Read moreA hand dipped in the water here, joins time immemorial and a universal energy connected molecule by ancient molecule to creek, river, lake, ocean, the milky way and worlds beyond.
Read moreTaking in the news with careful titration.
Local happenings. World events. A tragedy. Inspiration.
That's enough.
On goes the hat and coat.
It’s time to head down the stairs out to
Life
Where current events become
Tomorrow’s folded up paper left on the table.
The weekly pilgrimage is complete when the door swings open from the street’s quiet cold into the diner’s warm clinking buzz.
There are church-goers, hungover folks, and families on the floor with singles and travelers up at the counter.
Each booth, table and place setting is a different reality of course…
But regardless of the seat, it’s a sacred moment of pause and reflection over hearty breakfasts and questionable coffee.
When I come into a place where beavers live and work it’s like seeing a favorite band or beloved artist’s work up close. Of course, I admire many plants and animals but there’s an easier connection to animals that do work similar to ours. It lends itself to personification, appreciation, and a clear understanding that these are comrades on the journey.
Read moreAcross the yard,
out the gloaming window
trees stand in frosty leaf pools.
The cat is fed,
the coffee pot is full
and the house is wrapped
in the register’s warm low hum.
Leaning back in the chair
with eyes closed
she is afraid to think
“In this moment, I am ok”.
Now the sun and feet
outside the door
shuffle in another day.
If it wasn’t so beautifully written I’d curse Frost for bringing anxiety into the yellow wood.
The divergent road passes through many such places and they all make a difference.
Noticing intersections keeps us from getting lost but no single turn could possibly define the journey.
Painting and words by Nate Richardson.
"...mandalas in every culture serve, more or less, the same purpose of centering an individual or community on a given narrative in order to encourage introspection and, ultimately, an awareness of one’s place and purpose in the world; this awareness then allows for peace of mind."
Read moreI am forever grateful to stoop
And see the sun in a stone.
Along the shore the mind empties,
Refocusing on beauty and wonder,
A brief meditation,
Stone after stone.
A place to sit with coffee and prepare for the day.
A place to laugh with friends some evenings and quietly tie flies on others.
A place to plan for the next adventure and putting down roots one day.
A place to work through life’s hard news, joys and milestones.
A place to watch the seasons change and learn from the passage of time.
Drawing and words by Nate Richardson.
Drove out past the shabby mall where the farm used to be.
Sat for a while sifting through memories; family, loans, digging holes, mending fences, and harvesting.
A common life that became less and less common as the years went on.
There is no denying its beauty… or the struggle to hold on to it.
Painting and words by Nate Richardson.
For some there is only truth, beauty and darkness.
It’s not my religion but I understand it as a member of the extended family might.
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