We are counting down our time here on the Gulf Coast. It ‘s been too cool and  windy to ‘do’ the beach very much but for day to day living it has been fine. Sweater weather is the norm. Since the 1st of March we have been inundated with college age people wearing very little and surrounded by deafening bass sound until 4:00AM  Perhaps this area gets so much money from them that it is worthwhile to sacrifice sense and sensibility. I don’t think this wild frenetic behavior would be tolerated in New England. If I am mistaken I would like to be corrected. We would have left had we not been working here.  That said, it has been lovely, Larry has been singing and recording other karaoke singers and I have been teaching pastel painting. The above painting named Emerald Coast – (Oil- 16 x 20) was done at Seaside which is on 32A, a road following the ’emerald’ coastline, part of a series of beautiful new towns.  My daughter said she studied Seaside in one of  her landscape architecture classes as it is a designed town of recent vintage along with Watercolor, Rosemary Beach and others.  The clarity of the atmosphere, the intensity of the sunshine, the blue/green water and sugar- white sands I have not seen anywhere else.
Larry thought he’d try his hand at oil painting and selected a subject that appealed to him. After a few hours he said he hated it. Not his cup of tea. I urged him to finish it so he could have a painting under his belt and a feeling of accomplishment.  He tried again and gave up after an hour and I agreed that if it is torture, forget it.  It is not a lack of stick-to-it-tiveness because he spends hours at his music.  I thought he might be another dabbler, a Winston Churchill or Tony Curtis.

I am exercising my formerly broken ankle on my delightful 3 speed tricycle. It is better than a stationery bike inside.

We are going to New Orleans in a couple weeks to see Larry’s cousin, Dean of Music at Loyola.  After that we will wend our way north to Minnesota to our next job, stopping to see among other things, Choctaw Indian mounds, Ole Miss, Oxford, MS, named after Oxford University, England.  I will continue to collect info for my next children’s book which I plan to collaborate with my long time friend Carol Ann.

I am writing from a rehab facility with my leg elevated due to fractures in 3 places in the tibia near the ankle.  It is held together with screws and plates. Next week I will get a real cast and hopefully it will be weight bearing so I can get around easier. I am developing upper body strength, however. 
I was working at the RV resort helping with arts and crafts when, carrying a large box of plastic bottles for a sand art project, I miss-stepped and crashed to the ground. 
So I am meditating on the meaning of this sudden change in my lifestyle and the fact my summer plans have been redirected.  My husband’s plans were changed and the RV park plans were also messed up.  I shall leave it there until I see the direction I am meant to go.

Maybe serene settings are too relaxing for working at writing and painting.  This is an RV Park in Massachusetts and the leaves are still soft and pale like infants.  It’s quiet. So quiet you can hear the barred owl whoosh from one tree nearby to another, meet his friend and whoosh away.  Then a shriek breaks my reverie and a night hawk is announcing his arrival.  A chipmunk noses out some Bulgar wheat I poured out on top of the head stone at the fire pit. Ah Ha, Tex the cat is interested. I don’t know how he heard Mr. Munk but Mr. Cat flattens out his body and watches, motionless but swiveled eared.  How can I work with all these distractions!  The food chain playing out. The hawk holds the power. I better get my cat in.

I can’t decide if people understand the occupation of a painter. To the question of ‘What do you do” I say ‘I paint’ (or words to that effect). Then people say ” Oh my mother used to paint” or “my six year old loved to draw”. Isn’t that nice, I say. What does that information mean? Are they saying they understand the frustration of trying to capture the atmospheric color change in pond water at dawn on a cold April morning? Are they commiserating-remembering the hours spent working on one’s craft? Maybe they recall mother sitting at the kitchen table after her housework is done dabbing away at the paper or canvas copying a pretty picture and getting Oh’s and Ah’s from her amazed family that the painting looks just like Aunt Felicity.
Satisfaction and joy is felt by both handwringer and dabber. Her family will treasure mom’s painting as will the family of of the agonizer. Perhaps the agonizer will develop her art that will reach more people with it’s message.
Or, maybe it is simply a way of people connecting with each other on a human level.

I struggle with greens. No, not kale or Swiss chard. Painting greens. grass, leaves, etc.
Some artists wouldn’t think of using greens out of the tube. They make their own from blues and yellows.
I have made charts mixing assorted blues and yellows and charts using tube greens adding white or red. The thing about tube greens such as sap green is it is bright which is good when you want an eye popping fresh green. Using a touch of cadmium red lt. dampens the vivacity yet retains a low-key hum. Somehow I am missing the atmospheric color I am looking for. Suggestions?

Aaaaah.

We are in Louisiana now and what a change from dry Texas to moist Louisiana! Hair, skin,a good thing, crackers and fried pork skins-good and soggy.We went to Riverside Cafe on Vermilion Bayou and were waited on by a young fellow who included a lot of all y’alls in his speech. Larry and I had a conversation about the bayou as I had noticed the water flowing rapidly toward the Gulf. When our waiter came I asked if the bayou was a tidal river. He said ‘Wall I don’t know m’am, I’m not from around here.’ That begged the question-where are you from? He came closer and said-‘Salt Lake City’. I said WOW what’s with all the y’alls. He said ‘Oh, you have to do that around here- you have to fit in.’
We had a tour of the McIlhenny factory on Avery Island where they make Tabasco sauce. Interesting process, got some doll sized free samples of their new products and shopped at their store. We ate a sausage on a stick which was tasty but made our eyes water and noses run. Maybe I’ll included that trip in my next book. Today, a trip to a place called Rip Van Winkle Garden. Built by 19th century actor Joseph Jefferson who was cast as Rip on the stage and made the play famous. Made lots of money doing it. Designed and built a lovely, gracious home overlooking a lake in New Iberia. The trees in the lake are loaded with Roseate Spoonbills. The property was bought by another fellow some years ago and tragically someone drilling for oil nearby drilled thru a salt mound and into a cravass beneath and all the water flowed all at once into the hole and the lake was no more. Well, being Louisiana the lake filled up again in 2 weeks. The area is, after all, 7 ft below sea level. It filled up with salt water.
Down at the Gulf the drilling rigs are cheek by jowl at the dock. The shrimp boats are packed together at the docks like sardines in a can. Drill, Baby, drill. We are paying Brazil to drill in the Gulf. What possible difference can it make to the ecology if Brazil drills or we drill. Hypocrisy is rampant in DC.

Driving in our motor home from Minnesota to south central Texas, we stopped a few times along the way. I watched the landscape slowly go from tan colored dried corn and brown soy beans to still green corn and soy beans as we went south thru Iowa, Missouri and Kansas and the very flat country to the rolling midlands of Oklahoma and cattle grazing land into Texas and then quite hilly area south of Austin to Kerrville, the heart of the hill country. Grassland turned into earth-green live oaks and cedar, tall river grasses and rocky outcroppings. Pale buff sandstone telling of the ancient inland sea. Homes and buildings made of that pastel color blends softly into the landscape with an almost ethereal atmosphere. From my palette I would choose Naples and yellow ochre and raw sienna with titanium white.
One stop that was particularly interesting to me was the museum in Kansas City that houses the remains of the White Arabia, the steam boat paddle wheeler that went down in the Missouri River in the 1850s. The river changed course and the remains were covered up by silt. It was found in a farmers field. The story of the reclamation is worth a read and the items recovered and preserved deserves a look see. After a short film at the museum we were delighted to have a talk by one of the treasure hunters who added personal notes. The thing or things that amazed me was 1. the treasure was in beautiful shape due to it’s newness at the time of burial and the pristine job of preservation which was tricky. Everything had been under water for 100 years and had to be kept wet while it was permeated with a preservative and then dried which took months. 2. I was curious to see what was needed by frontier people to eke out a living such as shovels, axes,carpentry equipment, brass pins,leather and rubber boots and also some small joys such as Wedgwood china, fabric, jewelry, pretty calico buttons and perfume! They also dug up over 2 million tiny beads for trading with the native Americans which had spilled out when their string holders rotted away into the mud and had to be individually picked out and washed off. No government money was involved in the reclamation or the museum.
Now we are settled here in Kerrville,TX next to the lovely Guadalupe River. A walking tour of the immediate area proves to be an interesting source of wildflowers and there is a large list of bird sightings in the office. Bird feeders abound with instructions to fill them daily. The park owners are birders. Looking forward to the next three months here.

Couple to host book signing Thursday
Julie Buntjer – 09/27/2010

ELLSWORTH — In the 10 years they’ve been married, Ellsworth native Larry Boomgaarden and his bride — Massachusetts native Susan Kallander — had long talked about writing a children’s book detailing the Boomgaarden family threshing tradition. It never really came to fruition, however, until one day about three years ago, when Larry handed Susan a rough draft — actually it was more of an outline — detailing the annual gatherings around their steam-powered engines. Their finished product, “Up in Smoke,” was self-published in May, and the couple will now host a book signing in Larry’s hometown of Ellsworth on Thursday. Books will be available for purchase at the signing, which begins at 5 p.m. at the Ellsworth High School library. The event coincides with an Ellsworth High School volleyball match that night. Much of Larry’s family remains in southwest Minnesota, with an aunt and cousins living in the Ellsworth area. “My grandfather was the 19th person in Minnesota with a steam engineer’s license,” explained Larry. “He started the family in the steam tractor business.” Over the years, the knowledge was passed on to the second, third and now fourth generations of Boomgaardens. Their last steam-powered threshing event was a few years back on Larry’s brother’s farm near Kenyon. Still, they had the family’s original steam threshing machine, a half-scale version built by Larry’s father and uncle, and a quarter-scale version that the kids can operate “under guidance.” “After they’re done threshing, then his sister-in-law Mona throws a bag of candy into the blower and it blows into the straw pile,” Susan said. “The kids have a great time hunting for this wrapped candy.” That scene is included in the book, which details a Boomgaarden family harvest weekend in which nearly 200 people gather on the farm to thresh the oats, eat and enjoy an evening of music. “Music is a very big feature in the Boomgaarden family,” said Susan. Larry’s father was the founding member of the George Boomgaarden Orchestra in southwest Minnesota, and his brother performs in a regional band, Iron Horse. In addition to telling the story of the threshing tradition, Susan did all of the watercolor illustrations for the book. All of the people painted into the scenes represent family members — from Larry and his brother, Dwight, to Susan’s brother, Peter, and one of her grandsons. Susan refers to Larry as the technical advisor for the book, although it has long been her dream to write, or at the very least illustrate, a children’s book. During library visits with her grandchildren, she realized the selections lacked tales of family togetherness. “I wrote this about a loving, happy family that gets together — multi-generational — to play and work together,” she said. Susan hopes the book is the first of many, but she is working now to find both a publisher and an agent. “This got me started and now I’m off and running,” she said. “I’ve got so many books in my head now.” Susan is working on a series of travel-related children’s books, including one about community supported agriculture. She will do the illustrations for those books as well. Susan earned a bachelor of fine arts degree in illustrating from the Massachusetts College of Art prior to raising a family and, most recently, operating a bed and breakfast in Massachusetts with her husband. Larry and Susan sold the B&B three years ago. “The longer we did it, the more people we had, and the more people we had, the more work it was,” Susan said. “They came from all over the world, they were having a wonderful time and we were doing laundry and cleaning toilets. “We sold it, we got out of Dodge and we’ve been on the road ever since,” she added. “It’s been three years and we’re still learning how to (live without having an actual home address).” They will spend this winter in Texas, and by next September they will be in Massachusetts for Susan’s one-woman art show, featuring her paintings from across the country, and her book. For those who can’t make it to Thursday’s book signing, Larry and Susan’s book, “Up in Smoke,” is available for purchase online at amazon.com and barnesandnoble.com.

On the Net: kallanderartgallery.com susankallander.blogspot.com

The eye of the beholder
It has been frustrating not to be able to get online to write in my blog. We are crossing the top of the USA and some places there are no RV parks and when there are they don’t have WiFi. Well, now’s my chance. This country of ours is absolutely spectacular. We have everything an artist could want
I come from a world where the homes are painted and the yards are kept up and the town is tidy. When I go thru tired mining towns awash with grime and the sidewalks are littered and the stores are a little grimy around the edge with corners at the entrance littered with bits of stuff, I choose not to criticize because I don’t know if the folks there are unaware or depressed or overwhelmed with the magnitude of the problem. They are often surrounded by landscapes of awesome beauty. I won’t mention the city but It was settled in the 1870s by Europeans attracted by the opportunity to work in the mines. First there was gold, then silver then copper and lead. All in the same spot. The shafts went down miles into the earth. Some were so deep they were impossibly hot and next to them were shafts that were cold. The miners would come up soaked with perspiration and then go out and walk home in 40 below weather. What brave men, these. I shall not pick on their shabby homes or their littered streets. Perhaps after being down in the dark mines,the miners see their homes in the light of day as bright and cheerful.They are brave men. They give their lives so that we can enjoy the benefits of their labors.
Surrounding this city are 14,000 ft high mountain peaks covered with snow. Valleys massed with wildflowers in swathes of blue lupine so thick you can’t see green between, pink bitter-root, a 1″ high soft mauve blossom of exquisite daintiness. dd to this scene broad sweeps of yellow and orange paint brush and sunflowers.
A feast for the eyes of Renoir and Monet. I took pictures but oh, someday I’ll be back to spread these colors on a canvas. As for now I am in the Black Hills of South Dakota and heading East.