Vintage Moon Studio

Remembering Love - Dad: Aug. 1922 to Oct, 2, 2008

 (1959)

I remember showing this photograph to Dad, a few short weeks before he passed away last year. We were going through box after box of old family photos and when we came upon this one, he asked "where was that taken?". When I told him that it was our own  kitchen, right in the next room to where he was sitting, he was not to be convinced. As I pointed out the familiar doorways and window, and reminded him that we had renovated the kitchen so that it now looked much different, he only shook his head.. saddened that he could not remember. But then with his customary little grin, he simply gazed at it one last time, and as he tossed it aside, he said "well, wherever it was, I was one good looking devil, wasn't I?" Yes Dad... you surely were.

Missing you this long one year and loving you always.

Your Daisy.

My Life. Unplugged.

   

Dream cottage at ocean's edge

  

Morning coffee

 

Seawall garden

 

Lost in fields of yellow

 

Spiked sea treasures

 

Spiked land treasure

 

2 happy amigos

 

Day's end catch

 

Hidden

 

Twilight lullaby

 

After the storm

 

Unplugged.

 

Top of the World

"Sunshine on a rainy day
Makes my soul, makes my soul drip, drip, drip away"

   

 

 

 

 

 

Top of Mount Greylock in the Berkshire Hills

Took off my party shoes for a day of magnificent views and a picnic with those I love.

I miss you, Daddy.

Happy Mother's Day

 

Shadow(box) Play

  "First Shoes"

<> Make a Smilebox greeting

Dad    

August 10, 1922 - October 2, 2008

"For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?

And what is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.

And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.

And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance."

                                                                                                                 Khalil Gibran

Home at last...

 

Dad has finally returned home... extremely frail, but home to his own comforts, surrounded by those he loves, who also adore him.

Thank you all, my dear friends, for your strength, support and prayers... it made the days so much easier to travel.

These totems are more examples of his wonderful carving talents... they range from 3 to 5 feet tall and were completed prior to his stroke. They contain symbols of his passions, especially his love of fishing. Cherished items indeed.

a moment of rest

Drawing has never been my "thing"... for me it was a skill more frustrating than pleasureable and without practice it truly does become even more elusive. However with large amounts of time being spent sitting in the hospital with my Dad, my fingers were begining to itch for some kind of creative outlet. And what better subject - catching him in a moment of peace and rest.

Brief update

I want to thank every single one of you who have left a note, called and emailed me with your support during these difficult days. Dad went into complete kidney failure after his surgery and has begun dialysis, with the hopes of getting him out of the hospital soon and into outpatient therapy.... he says he misses his cat! I have been unable to access the internet so please forgive my long bouts of silence. I know many of you are also going through your own difficult times and my thoughts stay with all of you... I leave you with a photo which I posted a while ago showing my Dad's amazing carving talents - what he refers to as "playing around" :0)  xox Deb

HOPE IS

Many of you know my Dad suffered a major stroke last June, leaving him paralyzed on one side of his body. Recovery has been difficult with little improvement. He was able to return to his home with 24 hour care last October... one month later, on Thanksgiving Day, his wife of 63 years, my Mom, passed away. Life has been a struggle for him, as he has tried to come to grips with the realities of a life far different than anything he had even imagined. He now faces yet more challenges, fighting many odds as he lies in an intensive care unit trying to recover from serious surgery. Through this all, I have rarely, if ever, heard a word of complaint or a question of "why me". He has faced every hurdle with a grace that I could only hope to display myself. What I would like to ask is that you please hold him in your thoughts yet again as he heals and faces another new day.  xox Deb

Generations

Among my mother's many boxes of saved albums, letters and photographs was this photo of my grandfather, Edward. This was taken in 1913 when he was about 15 years old... one of the youngest pictures I have ever seen of him. What amazes me is how much my youngest son, whose middle name is Edward, looks like him.

                                                     Quote by Rumi

Gift of Life

I would like to share something about my Mom with you. I have shared this with a couple of friends who have needed a few words of encouragement but realize that there are others that may find a bit of comfort and hope.

When Mom was 28 years old, she was diagnosed with metastatic, bilateral breast cancer. At that time she had been married for only 4 years and had 2 small children. In those years (early 1950's) treatment for breast cancer was limited to surgery and radiation... which she had. Within a year of her diagnosis, she discovered that she was pregnant and was highly advised to terminate the pregnancy for fear that the baby would not survive the treatment or may hasten the progress of the cancer. She made the decision to complete the pregnancy....resulting in my birth.  Despite numerous health problems over the years (unrelated to the cancer) she had a long and fulfilled life, 61 of those 84 years spent with the love of her life, my Dad.

I know Mom would want those of you out there that share this journey to stay strong, have faith and always look to the next day. It would make her smile to know this is her legacy.

I love you Mom.... "Daisy".

I am overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support I have been blessed to receive from so many of you out there. I am trying to respond to each of you, but if I have not, please know that my gratitude is boundless.

Long Goodbye

Ann Louise

April 25,1923 ~ November 22, 2007

Early on Thanksgiving morning Mom peacefully left her world of pain and suffering. Our hearts are broken by her loss.

I cannot even begin to express how grateful I am for all of the supportive comments and emails I have received since posting about my Dad's illness. Many of you have asked for an update... and I wish I had more positive things to report. He is now in rehab but unfortunately his condition remains the same with very little progress. My mother's condition is rapidly deteriorating and we try our best to make things as comfortable and stress-free for them as possible. The task is daunting at times and I treasure the support I have been blessed with from all of you. I have become so aware of how lives can forever change in the blink of an eye and how precious my family and friends are.

On the lighter side,  I thought I would post some photos taken earlier this summer during a trip to MoCA - the Museum of Contemporary Art in North Adams, Massachusetts. This museum has been billed as the "largest and most comprehensive" contemporary art museum in the east and I have been anxious to visit since its opening a few years ago. It was, to say the least, an utter disappointment. The first installation we were ushered to was a large, white, glassed-in room with dramatic lighting focused on the one 8x10 canvas in the room - a completely black canvas. No texture, no imagery... only a lengthy written explanation attempting to legitimize the piece. We started giggling (totally uncouth heathens!!!) and didn't stop for the entire tour of the museum. I am, apparantly ,not quite as savvy and sophisticated as I previously thought (me, laughing).

This piece:

was installed in a fabulous room, full of light and wonderful old textured brick walls. So - tell me. What do you see here? I saw a large, triangular rusted metal sculpture surrounded by what looked to me like little (ahem) "droppings". Not so(!) says the literature! It is a streak of lightening in the forest surrounded by primordial animals.

I liked the walls.

And I did like this:

Rather sexy, don't you think?

Forgive my ignorance... I'm sure the artists all had their vision - I think I need a little work in the "digging deeper" department!

Hope everyone has a wonderful week ahead. I am hoping to do some work in the studio soon and will post when I can.

Sometimes life is just not fair...

Several days before I wrote my previous post about my Dad ("Life's beauty"), I received a copy of the latest issue of Somerset Studio. It contains artwork and an article I wrote - "Development of a Doodle".

                            

I was thrilled to see my first publication in print and was eagerly anticipating sharing the excitment, especially with my Dad. I spoke to him by phone and he was anxious to see the article and talk about reaching one of my long-awaited goals.

About a half hour after posting the tribute to Dad, I received a call saying that he had suffered a major stroke.

After one of the longest one hour drives of my life, I arrived at his bedside to find him alert but completely paralyzed on his right side. Though his words are slurred, his thought processes and language skills remain intact - along with his well known sense of humor.

I sat with him as he dozed, opening an eye now and then to look at me and simply nod. A few hours later he woke and we began talking about family matters, particularly his great concerns about the welfare and care of my mother. He has been her sole care provider for 62 years, nursing her through many major medical problems. Most importantly, he has been her champion as she slowly fades into the black world of Alzheimer's Disease.

"So on a brighter note", he finally said. "Did you bring your new magazine for me?"

Yep... that's my Dad.

I ask anyone who reads this to please hold him in your thoughts - and for those that believe in a Higher Power, please put in a good word for him , will you? He really could use any love and support you can find to send his way.

Life's beauty...

          

My Dad, though he would hasten to deny it, is truly an artist. Some of my earliest (and most wonderful) childhood memories are of sitting at his knee while he sketched a scene outside of our living room window. No fancy  paper or pens... simply blank typewriter paper and a #2 pencil would produce some of the most marvelous drawings. In later years he began carving shore birds - "just playing", he would say. Our house filled with these winsome little creatures and we treasured each and every one.

Dad will soon turn 85 and his carving days have been all but halted by arthritic hands... those wonderful hands that now care for my Mom  -  his wife of 62 years. 

     

Thank you Dad - for showing me the beauty in life's simple things.

Happy Mother's Day

                   

All my life,
so far,
I have loved
more than one thing,

including the mossy hooves
of dreams, including'
the spongy litter
under the tall trees.

In spring
the moccasin flowers
reach for the crackling
lick of the sun

and burn down. Sometimes,
in the shadows,
I see the hazy eyes,
the lamb-lips

of oblivion,
its deep drowse,
and I can imagine a new nothing
in the universe,

the matted leaves splitting
open, revealing
the black planks
of the stairs.

But all my life--sofar--
I have loved best
how the flowers rise
and open, how

the pink lungs of their bodies
enter the fore of the world
and stand there shining
and willing--the one

thing they can do before
they shuffle forward
into the floor of darkness, they
become the trees.

Mary Oliver

    "Where we love is Home. Home that our feet may leave but not our hearts."

          

                     (Photograph of my mantle with a few of my favorite things).