Our tales to tell.....

Just a quick note.

A few years ago I was involved in a video about Barrow Alaska. At least I think it was a couple of years ago. lol. Anyways I stumbled across the website where you can buy it.

http://touchalaska.com/ourstore.html

It was fun to do and I got to work with some awesome people!

The dragons names is Rohan.....

I finally got around to making another store for my 2d work.....photos, prints, lino prints, ACEO's and the like. Usually my drawings and work end up at the bottom of the important papers bin, scratched and folded and marked with who knows what. Either that or my baby sister finds them and claims them for her own. So now I'm going to try and make an effort to save them and hope that someone else will give them a good home, and keep some of them for sister....off to the side. It will take me a while. I tend to put them in envelopes and "save" them. Of course that means they are hard for me to find. If not impossible to find.

I found an old sketchbook while digging in my papers. It was missing it's front cover, and slips of magazine clippings were falling out. I flipped through it. I was amazed at how many ideas I had during that time period that never became anything. One thing I noticed was the dragons. When I was a kid I read a book....from the Dragon riders of Pern series by Anne McCaffrey to be exact....where humans and dragons worked together in some fantasy world. I became obsessed with dragons. I was really disappointed in the dragon artwork at the time, they were always cute or brightly colored. Nothing at all what went on in my mind. So I started to draw them myself. They looked horrible to say the least a tad better than stick figures. I was determined to make them look better. I started looking for books on drawing, on animals, on anything that would help me to make my dragons look how they looked in my mind. I learned about anatomy and value and texture. I practiced by drawing things around me, in my room, my friends...anything that would sit still really. I started collecting small pewter statues of dragons, with rhinestone eyes and flimsy wings. In fact the first one I ever bought still sits perched on a shelf in my studio, a reminder of my beginnings.

I guess that is how I started my artistic career, all that work to create something that was completely in my head.

Funny how these things work.

My two stores are: www.salmonberrydreams.etsy.com and salmonberrythoughts.etsy.com

One of the ACEO cards I did.

Slow drive...

This afternoon we took a short ride into the mountains while it was snowing. The flakes of snow were fat wet cold kisses on our skin. I felt like I was being attacked by tiny hyper winter sprites. The mountains barely opened their eyes to acknowledge our existence. They looked sleepy and comfortable under their thickening soft blankets. The bulk of them played hide and seek with us in the snowstorm.

Ben rode ahead of me, the metal barrel of a rifle strapped across his chest. He was hoping to find caribou, unaware of us because of the sound dampening snow. Instead we found flocks of ptarmigan. They blended perfectly with the snow and rocky tundra, and when they took flight it looked as if the ground itself took flight, leaping up to meet the falling snow in a frenzy of feathers and barking. The sounds they make are very disturbing. Their loud harsh repetitive sounds were made, I'm sure, to surprise predators and give them a few more seconds to disappear into the landscape. Still they make me smile with their furry feet and ninja like moves.

We drove a few miles into a beautiful valley. On a rise Ben turned off his snowmachine and dusted off some rocks. He was telling me about how he had planned his proposal to me. The long speech. The timing. He was telling me how I had instead prompted him to propose ahead of time. Some random comment I made I'm sure. As he cleared the snow from the stones on the ground they read "Marry me." I felt guilty for a second. Till he came over a smiled.

It happened how it was supposed to happen I'm sure of it. But that valley will always be marked by our story.

The ride home was just as soft and subdued by snow. I was still trying to get a feel for my new/old snowmachine. It sat a little low and stiff for my tastes. It felt like I was trying to ride a child's mattress on end as we floated through the powdered snow. I never really felt at ease riding them like everyone else. Just like a village kid I grew up driving them all winter, but more than likely I would end up crashing the stupid things. Not anything major, just alot of tipping over or perching it on a pointy mound. I did enjoy the challenge of driving them, the control and relaxing of muscles, the attempt at predicting the trail ahead. But to me it is like a game of tennis, whereas to Ben it was like reuniting with an old friend.

Watching him ride ahead of me always made me smile. I'm sure he could have fallen asleep with his finger on the gas and his instincts and finely tuned reactions would carry him for miles. Sometimes he would find an especially deep section of snow and tip the snowmachine on it's side as he balanced on it's edge. Show off.

But we are all gifted in certain areas. I swear that I traded any talent with baking bread for my artistic insight and persistence. A healer once told me that she traded her ability to make eskimo ice cream for a healers hand. Maybe the world really works that way. And only the truly happy people realize it.

Poem and pics.

My world.

My devotion.

My pulse.

emerald hued thoughts

devouring the ground in flora-like love

a million secret flavors of beauty

secluded and revealed

in frost covered stones

in lichen eaten crevasses

in salmonberry dreams

white petals as thin as the skin

on my weather adored lips

filled with bone colored age

and delicately flavored

with buoyant colored clouds

with feathers shed like tears

with salmonberry thoughts

transparent ice molded

by captured silhouettes

in envy of caribou antlers

and captured in song by

a wind passing red willow

a tangible hued bloom

a salmonberry scream

My world.

My devotion.

My pulse.

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There was the poem...and now some pics!

Before it got really cold and dark we went on a ride, the fog revealed and hid the countryside like some sort of peek-a-boo game

A set of rams horns from the dall sheep we caught this year

eskimo ice cream is actually whipped caribou fat filled with meat and broth and then frozen. Here is a pic of the fat after it's been whipped.

As promised this is a pic of the wolf we caught. A huge female. This is after it had been cleaned and before it was to be stretched and hung outside to be dried. Next we will tan the hide ourselves. A beautiful hide. More precious and useful than diamonds.

Holiday season....

I feel like I should start every blog post with an apology. lol.

It's been almost two months.

I think Christmas to me, and to most people who sell items, is the most hectic and stressful time of the year. For the past two months I have locked myself in my studio for the most part, making jewelry. Most people here in the village thought I was out of town, and every time they saw me they would smile and hug me and welcome me back. One of the elders has nicknamed me "tummak", a word to describe losing an item like you would lose your keys.

We also officially announced our wedding. We were thinking the end of May, but changed it the beginning of June in hopes that goods friends of ours would be able to make it here. There will be GPS coordinates, salmonberry cake, caribou soup and I'm pretty sure we are registering at Sportsmans warehouse for camping gear for our honeymoon. Our rings were made by an artisan , carved from single pieces of titanium. When my other half officially asked for my hand he held me close, tears brimming in his eyes. I heard the first sentence or two, and then I started tearing up and all I remember is feeling like the world just got an official new color. So now I'm planning on how much of our wedding gear and ceremony is going to be traditional. I plan to sew and make it all myself. Everything from the shirts to the wolf skin boots.

He came home with a wolf last night. She was huge. A almost pure white with golden black tips. A beautiful pelt. She was frozen by the time he brought her home. So she lay on the kitchen floor thawing out.

I have seen alot of dead animals in my life. But her bulk in my kitchen made every primitive thought in my brain go nuts. I kept thinking that she took a shallow breath once in a while. Every cell told me I was in danger. Her paws were as large as my hand spread out, and her canines flashed white in a permanent growl.

Very intimidating.

I think in my head I always picture wolves to be a meaner version of a dog. But I saw nothing in her visage that spoke of any type of bond with man. Every cell in her body screamed of predator.

My dog went into heat last month or so. We kept her locked up for the most part wanting nothing of a litter of puppies. I remember waking up one morning and taking her out and putting her on a chain. I sat in the doorway sipping coffee and making sure no male dogs came around. In front of our house is a road, and beyond that is a section of the landing strip, and beyond that is thick willows. A large shadow detached itself from the darkness of the bushes. Long legs moved silently down the landing strip, towards the mountains. I remember thinking first that it was someone's dog that had gotten loose. But I was confused as to why it was heading into the mountains. Then there was a spark in my brain that made me aware of it's size and lope. It was a big male wolf. Black. And completely unafraid.

It creeped me out that I did not notice it at all for at least a few minutes as it watched me.

I'll try to remember to post a picture of the pelt once it's done drying.

And thus a post about CHristmas and weddings turn into thoughts about wolves.....lol...

Happy holidays my friends!