The party’s over and October is nearly through. As we march bravely into November, it’s still a very moderate temperature here. Today will be near eighty degrees when it really ought to be much cooler here in Ohio and Halloween will feel more like Labor Day.
The colors are still pretty in places and there’s no shortage of leaves falling to the ground so that’s nice to see.
I play this game every year where I try holding out as long as possible before turning on the heat. The goal is always November 1 and I can honestly say there hasn’t been a single day I felt tempted to give in and embrace the heat. It has gotten down into the thirties at night a few times but my house stayed pretty comfortable.
Anyway, we say farewell to October today with lovely poem and this oldie but goodie photo of Scout in his bat wings. I would give you an updated photo of him in his Halloween costume but he wasn’t having it this year.
October’s Party by George Cooper
October gave a party; The leaves by hundreds came— The Chestnuts, Oaks, and Maples, And leaves of every name. The Sunshine spread a carpet, And everything was grand, Miss Weather led the dancing, Professor Wind the band.
The Chestnuts came in yellow, The Oaks in crimson dressed; The lovely Misses Maple In scarlet looked their best; All balanced to their partners, And gaily fluttered by; The sight was like a rainbow New fallen from the sky.
Then, in the rustic hollow, At hide-and-seek they played, The party closed at sundown, And everybody stayed. Professor Wind played louder; They flew along the ground; And then the party ended In jolly “hands around.”
There’s a poet named Iain Thomas whose poems and quotes periodically appear in my social media feeds. This one speaks to me the most of all I have read:
And every day, the world will drag you by the hand, yelling, “This is important! And this is important! And this is important! You need to worry about this! And this! And this!” And each day, it’s up to you to yank your hand back, put it on your heart and say, “No. This is what’s important.
The rest of the world has an agenda and it rarely aligns with your own. It’s up to you to guard yourself, your heart and your priorities.
Everywhere I look it seems there is a ton of work to be done. The things I consider important often get pushed to the side because the wishes, whims and procrastinations of others take me by the hand and lead me astray.
I suspect I’m not the only one who has this experience but it does feel lonely sometimes.
A quick google search for Mr. Thomas revealed little about him as a person but did produce several videos of him in interviews and speaking on various topics. One was on overcoming writer’s block, a problem I experience from time to time. His advice was simple: write something anyway.
If writing is making you anxious, write about what’s bugging you. Just start putting down words because, even if they’re not the right words, any words will propel you toward your goal.
While he speaks specifically about writing, this is stellar advice for any situation. It doesn’t matter if it’s right. Just do something to get you moving in the right direction.
In other words, whatever the obstacle – a mental block or the world’s interference. Yank your hand back and start moving in the direction where you want to be.
We are gatherers, the ones who pick up sticks and stones and old wasp’s nests fallen by the door of the barn, walnuts with holes that look like eyes of owls, bits of shells not whole but lovely in their brokeness, we are the ones who bring home empty eggs of birds and place them on a small glass shelf to keep for what? How long? It matters not. What matters Is the gathering, the pockets filled with remnants of a day evaporated, the traces of certain memory, a lingering smell, a smile that came with the shell.
When my pal Jerry and I planned to visit Alan Cottrill’s studio, Jerry arranged for us to also meet artist Mike Seiler in his downtown Zanesville studio. Little did we know that we would also meet Mike’s wife Kathy and that the studio is also their home.
I will be very honest with you. Jerry arranged the visit but I had little understanding of where we were going or why. Nor did I care. I was simply delighted for the adventure.
So imagine my surprise when Mike opened the door and welcomed us into their kitchen! Kathy, who was sitting at their dining table potting seeds, welcomed me with a smile. “You must be Brandi” she exclaimed.
We chatted about the Four O’Clocks she was planting and about the therapeutical qualities of having hands in soil. Then she asked if I was interested in architecture and she whisked me away on a tour of their home.
It is an old Christian Science Church that they have thoughtfully transformed into a studio/home that feels both spacious and intimate. Their home is filled with color, life and creativity. It’s positively inspiring.
And then there’s the art. Oh my goodness. Mike’s paintings are astounding. You won’t believe the medium he is working with. It’s liquid asphalt and alkyd. The asphalt is shiny and smooth and it reflects the colors around it.
The results are extraordinary. I especially appreciate the way it changes and seems to be alive in the light. It looks different when you stand close than it does when you view it from across the room.
He can skillfully explain the science behind the art and even makes the science sound like an art form. I absorbed none of that but did absorb the beauty of it all.
Kathy is a prolific poet who gifted me a volume of her work. She writes independently and he paints independently but they pair their works, finding poems and paintings with similar emotional tone. It’s a lovely collaboration too.
Another meaningful collaboration is their marriage as they clearly are partners in every way. They held court on the sofa while Jerry and I sat on the edge of our seats. They finished each other’s sentence as they shared their life stories. And what a fascinating life it has been!
He recalled a conservative religious upbringing where he knew from the age of two he would be an artist. A home next door was inhabited by a series of artists who exposed him to an intriguing new world. From a scantily clad bohemian woman who kept a skull as part of a still life on her kitchen table to a man who introduced him to clay, these years were clearly formative in more ways than one.
Kathy has a gentleness about her and a sense of faith that clearly defines her actions and thoughts. She said that they met in college and decided to marry when they realized they would be better together than apart.
There is evidence this is true. They have devoted themselves to making the world a better place. Their current project is in their own neighborhood where they are rehabbing their community one structure at a time. They have actively pushed out drug dealers and prostitutes, replacing them with families and artists. They foster a sense of community among their neighbors where they look out for each other and where art and beauty are central to the community’s health.
They have worked hard and it shows. They are near what many would call retirement age but don’t appear to be slowing down at all. I believe they said they are now rehabbing their sixth structure and when I asked why they are still at it, their answer was simultaneous and heartwarming. They do it because they can and because it matters.
Every town should have people like Mike and Kathy who take it on themselves to serve others and to build rather than tear down.
Friends, Jerry and I went to see art but what we found was so much more than paintings. The life they have built together is beautiful. The conversation we had seemed like something from a grand design, a conversation we were meant to have. I’m grateful to them for so generously opening their home to us.
