Sometimes, I play with oil paint

Posted on February 9, 2016 by Feisty Harriet — 29 Comments ↓

Oil painting_Zelda_feistyharriet_2016

Several years ago on kind of a whim I bought a set of professional water color paints and a how-to manual. I hadn’t tried using watercolors since I was a kid and, frankly, they are a lot harder than I remembered. You can’t layer paint very well with watercolors, it jut makes everything a muddy-colored mess. Within a few weeks I had given up on watercolor and moved on to oil paint, where the final product is ALL about layering. I watched some YouTube tutorials, read “Oil Painting for Dummies” several times over (yes, really), and got my hands dirty.

Oil painting_windmill with purple sky_feistyharriet_2016

I quickly fell in love with the medium, with the smells of paint and linseed oil, the feel of brushes and palette knives, and the different ways to get paint from the tube onto a canvas: big brush, small brush, fingers, skinny knife, wide knife, paper towel; thick paint vs thinned paint; paint well mixed or paint with stripes of the combining colors still showing. I love mixing up colors, trying to add a bit more yellow, or burnt umber, or viridian to get the perfect shade.

Oil painting_winter barn_feistyharriet_2016

Now, I am in no means a professional artist, and for now I have no real aspirations to become one. Professionals have taken years and years or courses in color theory and composition and medium; they have spent tens of thousands of hours honing their craft and practicing. Really, I doubt I will ever attain that level of skill, I prefer “abstract” because for me it’s easier to identify my attempts as such instead of trying to pretend I know how to draw faces or bodies or anything else truly recognizable. I sometimes dabble in reality, but usually give it crazy sky or bizarre colors or something so I don’t have to worry as much about it being too real-looking.

Oil painting_Windmill on the hill_feistyharriet_2016

But, I love it. I think this will be a life-long hobby for me. One thing on my life bucket list is to get paid for a commissioned painting; I would not accept payment for something I didn’t consider at least quasi-professional, so for now I paint for my family, and a few friends, but mostly I just paint for myself.

Oil painting_Spanish monastery_feistyharriet_2016

Ok, so, based on this post you’d think I have a thing for windmills…and, I suppose I kind of do, but mostly I have a thing for color–the crazier the better! Do you have any hobbies you’ve taken up as an adult? Or hobbies that you dabble in for the love of it, and not necessarily because you’re brilliant at it?

Bryce Canyon National Park in the fog

Posted on February 5, 2016 by Feisty Harriet — Leave a reply

On one of my trips between Salt Lake and Phoenix I decided to make a slight detour and stop at Bryce Canyon National Park. I was hoping for some gorgeous photos of soaring ruddy cliffs and orangey spires in the setting sun. The weather had very different ideas. The entire canyon was smothered in fog, from the rim you could hardly see anything below.

On a whim I decided to hike down into the canyon, hoping for a few awesome shots. I was absolutely unprepared for such a hike, I was wearing sandals, no water, and no real rain protection. But, the Navajo Loop trail is just a little more than a mile, descending down the canyon walls, through Wall Street, wandering along the bottom of the canyon with the creek and the pine trees, and then back up again. I figured it couldn’t be that bad.

This is Wall Street, it’s easy to imagine these soaring cliffs as enormous sky scrapers, right? The trail was wet and pretty slick, I carefully picked my way down the switchbacks, big camera in hand. It’s hard to imagine how enormous these cliffs are, how tiny the hikers seem. But, lawsy, those views!!!

From the bottom of the canyon looking back towards the rim, I felt like I was in a completely different world from the one at the surface. There weren’t may people there, and it only added to the creepy-beautiful feeling, eerie and other-worldly and heart-breakingly quiet.

The weather cleared up as I made my way out of Wall Street and onto the rest of the Loop trail, there were cedar trees and sherberty colored stripes and outcropping hoodoos everywhere.

As I began to ascend the canyon wall, the weather began to make me a little nervous. The drizzle of rain turned much more sleety, it got colder and the wind whistled through the formations. The trail was slick and muddy, my sandals slapped and slipped on the rocks. I carefully picked my way upwards, trying to shield my camera from the rain and simultaneously keep my balance with my very inappropriate footwear. It got foggier and foggier, I could really only see about 20 feet ahead of me when I came across Thor’s Hammer, one of the more photographed formations in Bryce Canyon.

Within 30 seconds, the fog had swallowed this formation completely. I hurried as quickly as I could back to the rim, picking my way, slipping and sliding on the now completely empty trail. The fog topside was thicker and heavier than before, I was relieved to get back in my dry car and crank up the heat. Even though this was a very quick stop, I really loved my short hike and these images.

Have you been to Bryce Canyon? Have you ever hiked in the fog? Tell me your stories!

Moments on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon

Posted on January 8, 2016 by Feisty Harriet — 15 Comments ↓

You know those moments, the ones full of wonder and awe? The moments when you feel both incredibly small and remarkably lucky to see and experience and know the things you do? I know many people feel those moments often with their children, I know I do sometimes with brand new babies or a particularly delightful moment with a niece, nephew, or one of my stepkids. More often than not, however, I feel those moments in the great outdoors, exploring mountains and wild places where it is quiet and full of the Great Everything.

On one of the many trips between Salt Lake and Arizona last year I stopped at the Grand Canyon and watched a storm roll over the canyons and ridges. It was mostly quiet, a few off-season tourists, and I could smell the rain and feel the strength of the storm in the wind.

It was one of the most delightful moments, the kind that fill you up to your brim and let all the heart-healing goodness slop down your sides. Sometimes I forget how much I desperately need moments like that, the ones that heal your soul and give you a little push in the right direction. Whether those moments are with mountains or babies I want to actively seek those opportunities this year.

And if that means a solo trip back to a lonely spot in the Grand Canyon, so be it.

Best of 2015

Posted on December 31, 2015 by Feisty Harriet — Leave a reply

I think by all accounts, 2014 was one of the worst years on record for me. By comparison, 2015 has been a dream, even with the bumps, bruises, and emotional roller-coasters that are the norm for making our way through Life. In some ways, 2015 has been a holding pattern and a waiting game, but in most respects I tried to pack as much as possible into 52 weeks, spending my time exploring, hanging out with friends, and soaking up every minute I had with Mr. Blue Eyes. While I’m excited for the coming year and all the challenges and triumphs, I am also a little sad to see 2015 close. So, I decided to come up with a “best of” list of some of my favorite things from the last twelve months.

Muir Woods, California, July 2015

Best Experiences of 2015:

Geez, I really don’t know how to narrow this down. However, I can say with confidence that the best times of my year have everything to do with spending time with the people I love.

Adventures afar and nights at home in jammies with Blue Eyes.
A 6-state Midwest road trip with a girlfriend.
Spending a whole week as the full-time caregiver for my stepkids, it’s more time than I’ve ever spent with them, and a few hiccups aside, it went smashingly!
A long weekend laughing with my best friend and her family in California.
Book club, always and forever.
Designing and costuming a competitive (and award-winning) Shakespeare team comprised of 50 teenagers with one of my oldest, best friends, for our 10th year running.
Planning and executing back-to-back smash success events for work; one a giant professional development conference, the other a state-wide event for 20,000 high school students.
Spending the evening with my four siblings, the first time we have been together in YEARS.
Crashing with dear, dear friends for a couple weeks between moving all my things to Arizona and moving my actual self.
The homemade welcome party that awaited me when I finally arrived here in Arizona.

Best Books of 2015:

Goodreads tells me that I read 111 books this year (!!), a total of 36,000 pages (for reference, my 2014 totals were 38 books and 13,000 pages). My shortest book was the Pulitzer Prize winning play Doubt, by John Patrick Shanley, the longest was the behemoth War and Peace, by Leo Tolstoy. My most frequently-read categories this year were Russian literature and history (especially of the Romanov family), feminism, and slavery and racism. I also read a number of books about North Korea, Darwin and evolution, elephant psychology, Joan of Arc, neuroscience and psychology, the Iranian Revolution, and China prior to/during Mao’s cultural revolution. Yes, I have eclectic taste. No, I won’t ever apologize for it.

Anna Karenina, by Leo Tolstoy
Tolstoy is a master, and in my opinion, this is his best.
Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, by Harriet Jacobs
More than any other slave narrative, this one rips my heart out. Harriet’s anguish and turmoil over leaving her children behind, of rescuing her children, of keeping her family together, this will change you in all the right ways.
The Lemon Tree: An Arab, A Jew, and the Heart of the Middle East, by Sandy Tolan
Refugees, war-torn middle-east, historical context for the Israeli-Palestine conflict, and a lot of “Humans of New York” type stories and sharing from in-depth interviews on both sides. Absolutely recommended.
The Martian, by Andy Weir
Hilarious, scientific-nerdy, perfection.
The Master and Margarita, by Mikhaul Bulgakov
Magical realism and political satire in communist Russia? Gimme!
Middlemarch, by George Eliot
This is why people like 19th century English literature.
Moby Dick, by Herman Melville
This book is very much an acquired taste, but I loved it. Yes, even the 600 plus pages about the history of whaling, the anatomy of whales, the economy of whales, the works. Loved it.
Rebecca, by Daphne du Maurier
So dark and moody! So delicious! I can’t believe I hadn’t read this one before.
Romantic Outlaws: The Extraordinary Lives of Mary Wollstonecraft and Her Daughter Mary Shelley, by Charlotte Gordon
Dual-biography of early feminist icons from the 18th and 19th century? Yes, please!
The She-Pope: a Quest for the Truth Behind the Mystery of Pope Joan, by Peter Stanford
Did you know a woman became Pope in the 11th century!? This story and the research to piece this story together are so fascinating!
Twelve Years a Slave, by Solomon Northup
At times I am baffled that slavery existed in the United States, that humans were perfectly fine owning other humans. This book details some of the most monstrous atrocities and a few gentle kindnesses from white freemen to their black slaves.

Of these books, which should you read? Well, world events being what they are, I think you should read The Lemon Tree as soon as possible. It shows both sides of Arab and Jewish tension and the history behind it. Honestly, it made me much more sympathetic to both sides and the war-torn refugee people who are caught in the middle. If that isn’t your cup of tea, I’d definitely read Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, a rare first-person slave narrative from a woman’s point of view.

Best Vacation of 2015:

This is probably a toss-up between an awesome road-trip across the Midwest with a girlfriend, and a delightfully low-key weekend in San Antonio with my sweetheart. Last January I had high hopes for a warm, international getaway, but more practical things like bills and buying a house and maintaining two households for 14 months took precedence. Hopefully 2016 will see a little passport action.

Best Photos of 2015:

I have had the chance to travel around to a number of different places this year, hauling my camera with me. Of the thousands and thousands of photos I snapped this year, these are probably my favorites, along with the others in this post.

Capitol Reef National Park, Apricot Orchard, March 2015

Grand Canyon North Rim, October 2015

Boone Hall Plantation, Charleston, South Carolina, September 2015

Bryce Canyon National Park, Thor’s Hammer in the fog, October 2015

San Antonio Botanical Gardens, agave teeth, November 2015

Best thing I learned:

You will never truly feel better about something until you do the work to actually change it. I’m sure some philosopher has said this much more eloquently and concisely, but I learned (or, re-learned, rather) that buckling down and getting my hands dirty and elbows greasy brings me an incredible amount of satisfaction. Granted, there are some things that we cannot change and must simply learn to work around or live with; I get that. What I’m saying is that we as humans are capable of an incredible amount of forward progression if we put our minds to it, pool resources, and reach out to friends and loved ones. Here’s to 2016, more forward and more progress.

San Antonio Mission Trail, Texas

Posted on December 16, 2015 by Feisty Harriet — Leave a reply

The Mission Trail in San Antonio consists of the five early missions that have since been swallowed up by the city. Some of the old churches are in better shape than others, and some were more extensive in the first place. Blue Eyes and I spent a Sunday morning wandering from one to the other, checking out the ruins, peeking in the chapels and standing in awe of the architectural feats accomplished during the 1700’s in the middle-of-nowhere Texas.

The Alamo is one of the original San Antonio missions, it is by far the most famous due to the terrible loss the Texans suffered at the hands of the Imperial Mexican army. (Confession: I actually had no idea that the Texans lost at the Alamo….I hope I can still be friends with those of you from Texas. And, to be fair, you probably didn’t know that Utah was founded by religious refugees running from government-issued extermination orders in the Midwest. So, state history lessons for everyone.)

Mission Concepcion

After The Alamo with it’s memorial flowers and altars and hundreds of people milling about, I was surprised that Mission Concepcion was so different. We arrived just as Mass was getting out, and seeing families chatting and kids running around the lawns seemed so…normal. This building in old and weathered, and I was both surprised and delighted that–despite it’s National Monument status–it is also just a regular cathedral for the devout people nearby.

Mission San Jose

Called the “Queen of the Missions” this cathedral was by far my favorite. I think it is the largest, and has these amazing arched extensions around the main church with gardens and flowers all over.

I mean, really. How can you not be totally charmed by this place!?

Mass was happening while we were visiting, so we didn’t poke our heads inside at all, but we wandered around for almost an hour, admiring the stonework and the sheer size of the building, and me patiently(ish) waiting for the crowds to clear a bit so I could get the photos I wanted.

Mission San Juan

Mission San Juan (which I don’t have any photos of), was the simplest building, whitewashed and without much decoration. We poked around the dark little museum and circled the grounds, but services were taking place in the church and we didn’t want to disturb, so off we went to the final mission.

Mission Espada

The oldest of the East Texas missions, the Espada church looks like it’s abandoned, but there is a small monastery and retreat attached where people continue to live, study, and pray. The rest of the grounds are in ruins, with stones and bricks removed for decades for other building projects. Now it’s mostly just the outlines of the walls and foundations.

However, the chapel was empty so we were able to go in and sit for a little while, admiring the faith and dedication of these believers from hundreds of years ago, and to appreciate the service and life-work of the priests and monks who continue to run the missions in San Antonio.

Feisty Harriet

"i" before "e" except when I'm feisty.

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