breakingsod.com

When I was researching amaranth for my last post I was captivated by the gorgious heirloom veggie pictures on the Kokopelli Seed Foundation site.

So beautiful. Their message and mission is too.

‘Kokopelli Seed Foundation believes that the only way towards world food security is free access to open-pollinated seeds and revival of sustainable organic agriculture. What is the future of a civilization which is destroying the seeds and the soil?’

Their mission is ‘really to create a “community supported seed fund” to provide poor farmers in poor countries with the seeds they need for their gardens or small farms.’

It’s a pretty awesome organisation. You can donate seeds, or cash to buy seeds with.

Go.
Grow.
Give.

Amaranthine:

1. Of, relating to, or resembling the amaranth.
2. Eternally beautiful and unfading; everlasting.
3. Deep purple-red.

adj 1: of or related to the amaranth plant 2: of an imaginary flower that never fades [syn: unfading]

Such a wanton, pretty plant. I’ve always loved the amaranth, in fact it was one of my secretforestelfprincess names when I was a wee, gangly tree-jumpin’ waif in the northwoods of Maine.

Sometimes it’s tall, gorgeous spikes festoon my paintings with their brilliant, voluptous atmosphere of devotion, adoration and abundance.

It’s even edible!

And, unlike Batman(the king of gloom and dissatisfaction), she’s not only happy, she’s inspired, inspiring and eloquent.

I spent the afternoon sketching swans, listening to Suzanne Vega and Andre Feriante(he’s got a big valentines concert coming up at Benaroya hall for all you Seattle folks), sipping tea, blogging, pondering answers to ponderous questions and evaluating my neck(it’s a bit sore, but I was able to do most of my chi gong exercises).

It was high time to throw some paint on the canvas, so I roughed in the background.

I wish I had a couple or ten more hours to work on it, but I’ve got to start getting ready for work.

Ah well. It’s a good start.

Sam navigates our solar system in an alternate universe.

As you can see, he has his trusty companions, Lieutenants Rowan ‘The Rowanator’ Sodenkamp, and William ‘Pie’ Enright, with him, so I’m not worried, although Saturn appears to be a real fireball in this dimension.

Tuesday, I took my beautiful momma, Blackbird(BB to those of us who know her well) to Ray’s for her birthday luncheon. The goddess smiled on us and gave us an oh-so-rare, gorgeously sunny day to celebrate, so we enjoyed a leisurely walk on the beach after gorging ourselves on some spectacular food.

My ahi was delicious(and pretty in pink, as you can see),

and perhaps sweetest of all, as we watched the sun-gilded ducks slide by, my momma’s nicknamesake came hopping out of the bushes to peer inquiringly at us on the bridge rail. I almost expected it to hop onto my mom’s hand and give her a blessing or something!

It was the coolest birdday ever.

I stopped in at one of my favorite blogs, Dreaming in Chiaroscuro and happened across some excellent advice, via Wish Jar Journal:

“Learn to say, ‘Fuck You’ to the world once in a while. You have every right to. Just stop thinking, worrying, looking over your shoulder, wondering, doubting, fearing, hurting, hoping for some easy way out, struggling, gasping, confusing, itching, scratching, mumbling, bumbling, grumbling, humbling, stumbling, rumbling, rambling, gambling, tumbling, scumbling, scrambling, hitching, hatching, bitching, moaning, groaning, honing, boning, horse-shitting, hair-splitting, nit-picking, piss-trickling, nose-sticking, ass-gouging, eyeball-poking, finger-pointing, alleyway-sneaking, long waiting, small stepping, evil-eyeing, back-scratching, searching, perching, besmirching, grinding grinding grinding away at yourself. Stop it and just DO. Don’t worry about cool. Make your own uncool.

Make your own, your own world.”

(excerpted

from “The
Accidental Masterpiece” by Michael Kimmelman)

I had to send it to Asshole, I knew she’d be able to interpret some of the gnarlier terms for me.

There I was at an intersection this morning, just sittin’ waitin’ for the green light, humming ‘A better Version of Me’ in happy reminiscence of the Fiona Apple/Coldplay concert I went to last night, when screeeeeeech!WHAMMMM!!!-the whole car shakes as an Acura plows into the back bumper.

The car damage was negligible, but my neck kinda whipped about like a wet noodle.

Ouch.

The twenty-year old girl who climbed shakily out of her parents car, apologising profusely, explained that she’d been trying not to spill her just-purchased coffee, not paying attention to the rainy-slick conditions and so on and so forth.

Poor kid. She sure spilled her coffee. Not to mention my lunch, my cell phone, and my neck.

Grumble.

I just bought my canvas, new teeeensy-tipped paintbrushes, and some colors for the Sarasvati painting…

I love art shopping!

But, man, what’s with the uglyass ‘portrait pink’ as the only choice for skin colors? I don’t think there’s a person on the planet who actually has skin that color.

Sigh. I got the ‘raw’ titanium white instead, it’s sort of tan colored… I’ll just mix, as usual.

This one’s for you and your awesome dog paintings. These guys used to come to fairs with me and the ultimate sculptor’s compliment I ever recieved was from passing dogs, who would bark ferociously at them and then look very very confused.

I love this picture. I took it at Larrabee State Park up near Bellingham. If you ever get a chance to go there, do. They have all these lovely little caves in the sandstone cliffwalls on the beach…