This past weekend Ron and I took Astrid, Flash, and Emma to a party with us. They spent some time alone out on the patio enjoying the lovely weather. Before the evening was over, they had decided that a road trip was in order. By the next morning, they had talked us into taking them and a few of their friends on an extended journey. Madilla (not shown here) is in charge of arrangements.
Next weekend we leave Galveston for Los Angeles, Gunnison, Denver, Kansas City, Russellville, Fort Worth, and points along the way.
Go to The Angel Snake Blog and subscribe to email updates to follow their adventures which will include visits with numerous friends and relatives along the way.
Since Angel Snakes frequently change their body paint, packing is a bit of a nightmare, but we will manage.
On a recent trip to Austin, we took our morning walk around Towne Lake. Eagle-Eye Ron first spotted the "snake in the grass" that lay next to the trail. It was so big that I missed it. Hundreds of feet long, its head lies near the trail; its body stretches through the building; its tail ends in the parking lot. The Mexican American Cultural Center is a lovely new addition to the scenery around the lake and merits a visit not only for its architecture and landscape but also for its exhibitions. It is, of course, a friendly scarlet king snake. Red on black, friend of Jack.
This summer, my husband Ron and I took a road trip to Colorado. We visited friends and enjoyed the cool air and scenery.
In past years we would sit in the hot tub or on a porch or before a campfire and "build" things. We designed cabins, redesigned kitchens, and dreamed about future endeavors. To tell the truth, none of the designs was ever built; none of the paths we laid out were ever taken.
This year it was different. We made movies. Ron came up with an idea for a short meditation involving something in the landscape. We stopped the car, got out the camera, and began shooting. We toyed with things and took numberous shots. That evening I downloaded the "dailies" into iMovie and began editing. I had set up a blog for Ron to organize the videos. Then I pulished the video to YouTube and embedded the code into the post as I have done here.
Fortunately, almost everywhere we stayed had high speed internet so we had no difficulties carrying on the enterprise. When we were in Texas, we would just pull into a road side park, pop open the laptops, and we were in business. The parks are now all WiFi-ed. Amazing.
Yes, there were a few tense moments when we were on "take fifteen" and things still did not come out right, but all in all we worked well together.
As we sat one evening reflecting on the day's escapades, we realized that this was the first time we had begun one of our creative ventures and actually finished it. It felt good. We plan to keep it up.
On 4th Street near I-40 in Albuquerque within an otherwise bleak-looking neighborhood, Avanyu and friends brighten and bless this architecturally plain building. Avanyu, the feathered snake, is a common motif in New Mexico. Maria Martinez used the snake extensively on her pottery.
A recent visit to Albuquerque led me to believe that ABQ is Snake City. I loved it, saw snakes everywhere. This purple python quietly guards a sidewalk on Lomas Avenue. I had time only to snap a quick photo and did not find the name of the artist or foundry. Alas. Anyone who knows that information needs to annotate this entry. Nonetheless, I show you that snakes are alive and well in the Southwest.
Alyson Stanfield helps artists get their work before the public. About a year ago, I signed up for one of her on-line classes and was immediately hooked. Since then, I have joined her "Inner Circle" where I have found a community of supportive artists from around the world. An art historian and former curator, Alyson has the background, experience, and savvy to steer artists toward a higher standard of professionalism.
Last weekend, as I was passing through Golden, Colorado, Alyson met me for lunch on the patio of the Golden Hotel. After a year of classes, emails, podcasts, and telephone consultations, a face-to-face meeting was a great opportunity for me to say "thank you" for all the information and encouragement Alyson has offered.
She is nearing completion of her first book, I'd Rather Be in the Studio! The Artist's No Excuse Guide to Self-Promotion, which promises to be chock-full of valuable information. Having been kept abreast of the progress of the book, I can't wait to finally see it.
Each time I see a sign like this one I have to smile and think of my childhood. When we traveled the country on extended camping trips, my father would tell us all to be careful when this sign appeared because it meant "Snakes in Road."
My husband Ron is an Episcopal priest. Sometimes priests conduct funerals. That time the decedent’s will instructed that his ashes be scattered on the highest mountain in Thailand near Chaing Mai. Ron had held a memorial service for him in Houston earlier in the year.
Naturally, we did what the will required--journey to Thailand. We held a service on Doi Inthanon and scattered the ashes to the wind.
Of course that was not all we did. Along the way we heard stories of The Naga, a mythical sea serpent. We saw it in paintings and on buildings. And, we met real pythons.
Here you see one of our traveling companions Cecil and me dealing with our ophidiophobia by embracing the beast, or should I say, letting the beast embrace us. I clearly recall making serious eye contact with the python; my feelings toward all snakes changed in that instant. They became if not precisely love, at least to more respect than fear. You do not see my husband in any of these pictures because he insisted that he be the photographer of any close encounters with snakes.
The 1980 drawing of a two headed serpent in a swamp had no eyes on either head. Today my snakes have exaggerated eyes. It was not until I was gathering all this information into one place that I made that connection.
The photo below was taken at a later point in our trip. Having become ophidiophiles, we were attending a performance at a snake ranch, and Cecil and I could not resist yet one more opportunity to bond with our new friends.
