I've always loved the turn of the new year. I know some who people eye it with dread or sadness with the reminder of the passage of time. Their sad focus is on aging, and regrets. But for me the turn of the new year is a time of excitement and cheerful anticipation....
musings from the studio and beyond ~
dawn chandler’s reflections on art and life. . . .
dawn chandler santa fe artist
the unusual transformation of a landscape
It's a few hours away from the first day of winter and I suppose I should be writing something solstice-y or festive-y or fa-la-la-la-la-lish But as much as I love this time of year, with the relentless sunshine we've been having this month where the skies look more...
of painting tidal rivers and lakeside tool sheds
Walk for maybe ten minutes from my aunt's front door, across the academy yards, past the post office, past the Congregational Church (with a wave down the lane to the Unitarians), past the town hall and bandstand, and make a quick right turn into Me &...
the colors of my world….
These were the colors of my world today at 4:30a.m.... and these these were the colors of my world today at 8:30a.m.... And somewhere in between the two, the colors of my world were these.... { ~~ blissful sigh ~~ } OHhhhhhhh, BLESSED DAY!! For...
of pith, sharp vicious teeth, and free art
My high school senior English professor used to wear a pith helmet. I don't remember the specific circumstances required for him to don the pith helmet, but they had something to do with intellectual pithiness. I also remember that it was rarely donned, but when it...
back to the high meadows of new mexico . . . .
We had been camped on the far edge of the high south meadow. The evening before we were lead up a west slope trail, where, just beyond the ridge in the blaze of sun sinking quickly before us, we stood at a fence line, and watched color radiate from a point just beyond...
revealing the open pages of my wallet
It’s all in a book, a little bigger than my palm. When I shared The Book with an acquaintance, her voice fell silent as she slowly turned and considered the pages. “I feel,” she said in a near whisper, carefully turning each page . . . ...
where art lives . . . .
What art offers is space — a certain breathing room for the spirit. ~ John Updike Who doesn’t love venturing into an artist’s studio? Even I — myself an artist — love visiting other creative’s studios. I delight in seeing the...
my hard new year heart
Walk along the Santa Fe River, and most of the year you'll be walking in dust. Either that, or on pavement. I don't know if its ever been a continually flowing stream, but I do know that human intervention has changed it considerably from what it once was. When I...
of walking meditation
Has it really been a month since I hiked off the trail? 'Seems impossible that one month ago today I was lying in a tent on a frosty morning deep in the northern Vermont woods 5 miles from Canada.... As I said, my thoughts these past four weeks...