It's a spring rain!

Day 2 of the April Arts Marathon

Yesterday was warm enough for our local vernal pond to become an all day rave for our wood frogs. “Peep! Peep! Peep!” sang the woods behind my house. Peepers are one of the loveliest things about living in Vermont. It was also especially good of them to make their debut on the first night of Passover. In the reading of the Haggadah, the text of the Passover Seder meal, one recites the numerous plagues of Egypt — FROGS is one of these!

But alas, today is cold and wet and the frogs have fallen silent. The windows are shut and the damp of early spring seeps into any skin not covered in wool. And so my thoughts fall deep, deep, deep into the rain soaked earth and I consider the worms. Perhaps, a modern plague? They say the invasion of the jumping worm could be detrimental to the soil… they say the worms eat the good stuff out of the soil…but I wonder where else could they take it? They don’t go anywhere else. Shouldn’t it be fine? I do notice that the soil looks different than it used to, but things still grow.

I try not to be alarmist about the jumping worms. We know very little about them. I’m almost certain that they did not ask to come here; they surely were brought in someone’s flowerpot. That they have arrived and are thriving, seems a good enough reason to hang out with them. They are immigrants I don’t understand yet, but boy are they goofy and dramatic. When I touch them, they wriggle like I’m burning their skin. Maybe I am. It’s hard to be curious about them when they are so touchy. But they might have legitimate complaints…

Worm Pity Party

I digress....

Hi! Welcome to DAY 1 of the April Art Marathon!

I knew that this week is going to be ridiculously busy so I’ve been writing gags for a couple of weeks. Turns out — now that I read my list, APRIL FOOLS! I don’t get them! Maybe the jokes will come back to me… but for now, you are spared THOSE.

I did have a good gag for today, but I decided to loosen up my drawing juices by inking my very favorite food. Oh yes, the donut or doughnut. Did you know, just like eating them, it’s hard for me to stop drawing them??? Then I couldn’t stop thinking about them and their relationship to other things …so maybe these will offer a chuckle or at least a “Huhn. hmmm.” Yes, my mind does wander a bit…

Bon appetit! or if you’ve given up looking at pictures of donuts for Lent, wait a few days.

Obviously, I was thinking about how the doughnut received its name…And just like the Buddhist Enzō — my thoughts brought me right back to the donut.

Thinking about the donut and hex nut led me down a nutty path… and so I went back to drawing donuts.

I don’t mean to typecast. I might not love all donuts equally, but I’m pretty sure I accept them all, (except for maybe the ones with bacon on them— I share that one with anyone who wants it). As I was drawing donuts, they just started to have personalities so I labeled them. It’s just a label, they can change their labels if they reach sentience.

I'm at it again!

https://caspvt.org/watch-me-paint-myself-into-a-corner-watch-me-draw-myself-out-read-madelines-an-april-fool-blog/

Here is the link to my fundraising page for the Community Asylum Seeker’s Project — your sponsorship of my art during this April Marathon directly helps people to resettle their lives in Vermont. Thanks for reading!

Bad at Garbage June 2025

Frantic to figure out how to hang my weaving from the May Art Marathon for the in-person show in Brattleboro, I dug into some of my other collections of trash that might one day prove useful and I have severe guilt around placing in a landfill. Don’t get me wrong…I obviously love plastic. Have you seen my tape drawings? I just have feelings about it being trash.

I pulled out a blue net bag — the kind that holds things like oranges or potatoes and found an old plastic cutting board. After a bit of play I liked how this looked.

Unable to Toss the Ties that Bind, (Bad at Garbage #1)

I was really pretty excited about it. I liked the feedback I received about it and so I made a couple more:

Organically Grown, (Bad at Garbage #2)

Beauregard, (Bad at Garbage #3)

Maybe I’ll figure out how to repurpose all of the collected trash in my house…this is a start…and for now, it looks like I’m out of materials — I’d better eat more food so that I can produce a “body of work” ! One of these days I’ll have a whole show attesting to how bad I am at garbage! (But look at all the vegetables she eats!)

And, in the meanwhile, the top piece and these three pieces are included in the in-person show. If you can’t come to Brattleboro, this is how the other's look.

installation at Soft Spot Gallery

Last day

The warm weather is here and the windows are open. From my desk, the birds are keeping time — chirp chirp chirping away. These days the birds zip by through the garden. I see them streak past my window. I attribute their intention and speed to the incessant demands of chicks and fledglings. It’s a birdy-bird world.

High in the sky, the hawk cries as it is warned or punished for finding a nest full of eggs or chicks. Hawk chicks are hungry. As the smaller adult birds, say sparrows or catbirds, go find food for their babies, the hawk finds a nest of babies to feed its babies. The adults return and attack and yell at the hawk. It’s a bird eat bird world.

It’s easy to ignore or to obsess on the drama. I can hear mating, territory, or warning calls simply as birdsong. After all, it happens whether I can hear/understand it or not. It can be either a backdrop for or complete distraction from my own drama! Every year, the joy of seeing baby birds or finding a nest, active or post-family rearing, is consistently great. Understanding why small birds are attacking a hawk, is consistently distressing.

This spring when trimming back the forsythia, I found a small nest lined with plastic strips and used duct tape. The plastic strips flew out of the nest and I recognized all of it from its time sitting near our garbage can on our driveway. Here I thought someone had finally picked up the garbage and placed it in the bin or taken it to recycle (flat plastics are recycled into plastic decking material. Please take your plastic bags for recycling!), but instead the birds picked it up and put it in their nest! I guess they found out it’s an effective way to keep their babies dry and warm. Fascinating! Kind of gross, but I still love it.

Reuse, recycling, creativity, necessity, inventiveness, and it could be argued, playfulness — what a way to create and build with the materials we have! Much like this May Arts Marathon…using these resources of artists to raise money to bring safety and settlement to some who have been uprooted. It feels like a nice big round circle.

Oh did I say circle?

Birdie Birds

Spheres 2

Day 20 or 5.29.25 Hunting for Magic

I like the idea of worlds within worlds. I went on a hike looking for a late morel or two. I found none. What I found instead was a lot of ticks. Yikes on ticks. I think they are all gone now without a chance to bite me.

It’s hard to imagine, but possums, who eat ticks, must be like, “Cool! A snack landed on my leg!” For them, it might be better than room service!

I saw turtles on a log, even though there was not much sun late in the afternoon. I think I saw a bear, and maybe even a fox. I saw a herd of heiffers who wondered why I wandered into their pasture (I’d found a motherload of late morels there one year). I found mint in the pasture, but the cow patties there didn’t make the mint feel like a snack.

No mushrooms, but who cares? I saw a lot. And even though this painting was mostly done before the hike, I like to think about it along side the hike.

Day 20 or 5.28.25 taking care of the babes

Today I watched a sparrow couple and three babies twittering away on the edge of a field. It was such a mystery. Where was their nest? How did they arrive there and would they be okay? For now, the babies in the hot sun were being attended to by their parents…but who knows if there was a plan for night fall. It looked dicey. The babies could almost fly but not well. They were little and still a bit fuzzy.

sparrow chicks looking like Edward G. Robinson, “Look here, see?”

You may remember at the beginning of this marathon I observed ants herding aphids on my cherry tree. As promised, last week, I attended to my cherry pie ambitions by putting a sticky band around the trunk to keep the ants from crawling up and down to tend their herds. I know there are still ants and ant babies that need food, but hey, I planted that tree! I’m done sharing! Today while assessing how my garden might look better, I was a little relieved to notice another tree is being cultivated by ants to herd aphids. The other tree is not precious. It is a volunteer cottonwood tree that grows in and through a plastic pot in the corner of my garden. In fact, the pot cannot be moved. The tap root is strong and firm though the bottom of the plastic pot. Because it chose to live in a pot (at least cosmetically), it looks intentional, on my part. What luck!

Here is an ant on my cottonwood tree with its herded aphids.

The tenacity of nature is heartbreakingly beautiful. Some of the biggest dramas from birth to death seem to be about taking good care of someone other than one’s self. Maybe not if one is a cottonwood tree growing in a pot, but I could be wrong about that. The reason I looked at that annoying tree that I can’t move, today, is because its leaves were doing fascinating things. Undoubtedly a reaction to stress. I won’t show you a photo, it’s a little gross…but also a little inspiring… There are so many creative and unexpected outcomes from stress. It’s funny, it’s probably stressed out that it planted itself in a pot. Oh…well…

“What’s wrong with stress?” someone once asked me. I guess I mostly agree.

Day 19 or 5.27.25 Hang on!

I thought a lot about what I posted for the past few posts. I just want to say, attempts that come out so-so are all part of my process. I might look back on the last few drawings and have new ideas about them, but I also might not. I don’t consider them really done, but I need more time to look at them to figure out what they are asking for to feel grown up.

I decided I needed to change up the rhythm of what I’m doing. Today I went back to using color. And animals. And Circles/ Pine Pollen. Painting is a little like spell making. When it works out, it’s pure magic. When it’s so-so, it’s just art supplies. I’m a little frustrated by my last few attempts.

And because art doesn’t happen in a vacuum. I’m also frustrated that my garden groundhog has eaten all of my echinacea plants. I’m frustrated that I don’t have rabbits in my yard this year. I’m frustrated that time seems to evaporate and the speed of daffodils to tulips to bluebells to lily of the valley to lilac is so fast!

This May Arts Marathon has been really fun in making me learn about efficiency and posting. This time is also evaporating fast! But in the spirit of spaciousness, I’m likely to continue this blog…not every day but some times through the future.

Hang on!

Day 18 or 5.26.25

Obviously I’ve made a lot of ink paintings, but I’m trying to integrate some of the things I studied last week and see if I can replicate any of the techniques. I’m not at all sure of what I’m doing, but that’s okay. As a human, I have crazy capacity for play, so I do. I play and just when I think I’ve made a real ugly mess something emerges.

I wish I had a little more intention for this painting, but the truth is I just started painting. I might not show it to anyone if it weren’t for this marathon, but I signed up for this and so did you!

And if you want to know about the ants…today I disturbed a bunch of them. I observed them throughout the day. I want to let you in on a little secret. They look busy and officious, like they know what they’re doing by communicating with their antennae and such, but I watched them carry larvae in one direction and other ants carry larvae in the exact opposite direction back to where the other ants came from!

No one knows what they’re doing! I’m in good company today.

Day 17 or 5.23.25 Real and Imaginary

Still thinking about those Lohans. Among the nicest things in the paintings I studied, are the crazy animals (have I mentioned, I LOVE animals?). There are elephants painted with toes (like toe-toes). Dragons that look believable and which fly and dance. Rhinos are so oddly shaped. It’s obvious, no one REALLY had time or access to look at these creatures, much less make notes. Most of these depictions are acts of pure imagination.

I went to the Bronx Zoo last week and spent time with the White Rhinos. They are so fantastically beautiful. The visiting children were screaming in their excitement to see the animals. The rhinos slumped in the indoor exhibit — it was so loud. Then, the rhinos were let outside and they ran around and scratched themselves on logs. It was really lovely. They seemed so happy to move around in nature and in the quiet outdoors.

I didn’t draw any sketches or take notes — but I do have internet images and memory from my adoring gaze. And I have a paper with a ground laid out — a round blob in the middle already looks like an eye, and some of the shapes on it already look like a rhinoceros…

I’ve never seen a real Lohan, the god is based on painted images… it may have toe-toes, I’m not sure. I added an animal suggested by the blob on the paper. This piece may still have more mileage in it…I’m likely to paint more on this. Thinking for now….this is still a place holder.

Day 16 or 5.22.25 This is a Place holder

Today I spent thinking about a Song painting of Lohans (Chinese dieties) and a Ming painting of Lohans. I looked at print copies today, not originals, but even with looking at the reproductions, the ink washes and the quality of the lines have been buzzing in my head all day. I knew today I would spend the day on the road looking at raindrops so I put down this “ground” this morning. Now that I’m back at my desk, I’d like to consider it more before diving back into it. There are a couple of moments I already really like in this painting, but I want to be careful of not falling in love with every line I make, every brushstroke I put down. Even though there is beauty in simplicity, I am uncomfortable showing up at the party and simply declaring, “I’m here! The party is here!”

I’d like to put a little more on the potluck table, maybe into this piece of paper…but maybe tomorrow. For now I am going to contemplate this inky ground as the cold raindrops tap my windowsill and my shoulder of the planet turns away from the sun, inviting the inky, wet darkness… maybe then THIS will become THE painting, that I will agree, says, “I’m here! The party is here!”. But I show you the place holder, for now…

Day 15 I cAN'T make this up

Okay…. so I’m still in process of working with my black paint. And I won’t bore you with the details about my problems with throwing things out and using things up completely, including black paint in places it doesn’t need to live. My day was a busy one, but since I owe you a piece of art…here I am looking for inspiration.

I dip my brush into the black paint situation I have, and I see that an ant is crawling up my hand. I start painting an ant for you, realizing I promised an ant picture at some point, and son of a gun! My black paint has attracted a few ants…

My models scurry here and there… and one takes a rest in the middle of this picture. You may be able to see it.

Day 14 Round Peg, Square Hole

I started this one by continuing to clean up some of the black paint from yesterday’s adventure. After working last week in color and then just yesterday, working with black and white, I decided since I’d been painting rounded shapes, I should work with the shape of my page. Well, I couldn’t groove with it and went back to round shapes and color. Maybe tomorrow something else interesting happens… More experiments to come, for sure.

yellow rectangle

Day 13 A Deficiency of Process

Some, most of the time, things work out. Today there is a gentle breeze blowing through the leaves. The earth and I are breathing. Pretty good. Last week felt very poignant as every day brought news of someone new transitioning out of feeling and hearing and smelling a fresh breeze. Things are always changing. Some, most of the time things work out. Sometimes they don’t work out at all as expected. Sometimes they work out as expected and it kind of stinks. C’est la vie. C’est la guerre!

Despite the poignancy and temporary nature of existence, life continues. Observation, contemplation, and making continues. Progress is made, occasionally, thwarting our very best befuddling attempts.

Even though I found a way to work and hit a nice rhythm at my overcommitted desk, I quickly gathered my materials to move the production to a new location. I made a split second decision, which I knew at the time, might make a mess. And guess what? It did! I did!

Two of my favorite phrases are Prior Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance and TIPS= To ensure Prompt Service. I don’t give myself the time or treats to do either. I just muddle through - making bad decisions to move black paint from a contained area to a less contained area in a half-witted way. I guess I like the organic nature of process. Every decision in a process offers a little information, some of it, completely not useful, admittedly.

Here is my attempt to recontain, black paint I sprung loose. I like to talk about my deficiency of process, but I totally claim the making a mess part as being part of my process. It’s easier to work from a point of challenge - to clean up my messes, than to work with a blank slate, I suppose.

Day 12 Belonging

Everyone has a space in my garden, even punk-art Aegopodium, but I try to keep that space small-ish.

I’m thinking about the current discussion about birthright citizenship. What it is like to not feel like one belongs in either the country of one’s birth or the country of your parents because one does not speak the language, know the smells, or have familiarity with the customs?

Some things in Nature don’t care. Pollen doesn’t care. Seeds will sprout and thrive wherever they have the opportunity. One of my favorite things? Volunteer plants in sidewalk cracks and on building structures. A good reminder that human work is an answer but not the only answer on what can exist here.

Seed on the Wind

Day 11 Sprouts and Pollen

Tiny little fragile sprouts. Trying not to trample them.

Day 10 Pining for Pollen?

5.14.25 Still covered in pine pollen. The grit is everywhere…. I know I was complaining about the rain last week, but I could use a little help to clear the air… It’s always something!

Day 9 So itchy! Pine Pollen

My car is covered in fine yellow dust as it is parked below enormous white pine trees. A 30+ yearly reaction to pine pollen, I finally was curious as to why it is so irritating today. I looked at microscopic images. I don’t have new ideas as to why it’s so annoying, but I do know why it flies all over the place…each pollen grain has two air sacs which presumably help the pollen disperse on the wind. Here is a synthesis of the many images of pine pollen I reviewed today.

Day 8 too many words!

I’ve been writing so much. I decided to say less. Here you go!

Day 7 Good Faith+Hot dogs

The birds are really singing this rainy day. The harmonic trill of the hermit thrush echoes through the little valley behind my house. The pew pew pew galactic shooter call of the cardinal cuts high across the trees. The songs of sparrows, mockingbirds, chickadees, finches, and tufted titmice seem to crowd the air around the rumble of the brook spilling along at what looks like full capacity.

All of this rain, and the brimming waterways, the installation of the new pope, and the possibility of baby raccoons in the shed has me thinking about Noah’s ark and good faith. Noah’s Ark is such a great story (Yes, because of the animals. I might have mentioned? l love animals). So much rain, so much trust that it would stop, so many predators and prey on one boat. With the grey moods that come with grey skies, a loss of habitat, and an endless horizon of water, what an existential and management nightmare! It’s a story of good faith. This, too, shall pass. Change is inevitable.

It wasn’t so long ago that my neighborhood was muffled by a snowy blanket. It felt like a long winter - like spring would never come. Just when we thought this is the last snow, another came. Repeatedly. But disregarding the snow and the raw temperatures, the snow drops broke ground and bloomed. Life repopulated our treetops, vernal ponds, and yard. Now, my corner of the earth is donned in bright green. It’s easy to take it for granted. It’s so normal, expected and yet so miraculous and surprising. The peas I planted yesterday are sprouting already. It sure is grand magic. All the birds that seemed so quiet and gone for months are calling - present and accounted for - ready to raise young. Oh the drama of it all!

And although I am a lapsed Catholic, I am not a lapsed human. I like this guy, Leo XIV. I was really moved by his words that I heard untranslated — I understood “Peace” and other simple words. I heard when he switched to Spanish…and was moved to tears by this signal he wished to communicate with perhaps the largest group of Catholic people. I don’t mind he didn’t speak English - it signaled that the world is big and not everyone needs to speak English. That the cardinals picked him feels like an act of good faith. That he’s from Chicago - a diverse town that engenders hard work, humor, and civic pride is also a plus. As a lapsed Chicagoan, I gotta say, its people are real salt of the earth. Yes, that’s funny because Chicago sits on a giant freshwater lake. I love Chicago. It’s a logical, cultured, smart city built for living in with plenty of skyline and flat vistas to take a long view.

I’m now living in Vermont - a kingdom, this season, of green expansion… I know the plants will fight for space and resources, but I may ask all the plants, mostly native, many from other continents and climates, to consider peace. I’ll make strong borders for some and make space for some communities to grow and mix. It’s an act of good faith. What can grow will grow, and bloom.

In a spirit of celebration of the Chicahhhgo pope I present an ode to the Chicago Hot Dog - a culinary delight involving a poppy seed bun, hot dog, yellow mustard, sweet relish, tomato slices, diced onions, pickle spear, pickled peppers, and celery salt. And In honor of my beautiful verdant rainforest I offer you a possible contender for the Brattleboro spring link. Buon Appetito! Buen Provecho!

Hungry?