Archive for January, 2013


Posted in Uncategorized on January 14, 2013 by Queenie

Some many long years ago, back in the days of academe in my college years, there were times when I would indulge myself by cutting class for various reasons. Sometimes the cuts would extend for longer than a day, and after too long it became a real challenge for me to show my face again, and to deal with an encounter with the instructor, having to scrounge some notes from some classmate, or catch up on work due. Once I got back into the swing of things it all became alright again, or else I would admit defeat with the entire process and drop the class or take an Incomplete. Those were not my best days – in some and many respects.

I have been away from my blog now for so intolerably long that I feel akin to those days – showing my hangdog face again after some unforgivable absence, without any excusing note from the proper authorities. This happened, that happened. Excuses always make for poor reading material, and maybe I’ll go into it, or not. I suppose I’ll just plant my feet back on the path and go on, which, if we choose Life, is about the only direction to go. Perhaps the excuses or particulars as they may be will follow. Maybe not. In the meantime, here’s what I have to say about whatever it is that comes up as I begin again.


What is it about rock stacking? Balancing? Designing? Daring Gravity? Back when we had water in the cove, seems like years ago now, cause it WAS, it was my almost daily occupation in the summer months to swim across the cove, plunk myself down amongst the rocks, and start building cairns and balanced structures. By the end of the season and into Fall there were dozens of sculptures over there. The challenge of it now, with no water and so much heat, has taken the joy away. The cove is all but dead these days, or life in such a different way that it is just not the same. I wonder if, when, we’ll ever get rain enough to allow me the communion with the water, along with the strange challenge and reward of building monuments to Nature, and to my own presence. We need a flood, with all the destruction that would come with it, to regain “normal.” Or is this, in the common parlance of hold your nose acceptance, the New Normal?

One day I was sitting on this side of the shoreline, and watched a family –  daddy and his young sons – swim across the cove. The boys proceeded to throw rocks at my structures, destroying almost all of them. I tried not to be angry, boys being boys and all, but still it was upsetting to me. I’d put a lot of “work” into that, and they were just being destructo creatures, not knowing or caring that someone else cared a thing about them. It was only chance that had me there at that particular time, witness to the knockdowns. Any other time and I would’ve just gone over there to find them gone, just rocks upon rocks. What to say about that I don’t know. Surely there’s a moral in there somewhere. In the end, it was just rocks. And these are just lifetimes, built upon, moment by moment, like piles of rock. We’re here for but a moment, and what will we leave behind? Is leaving behind anything the point of it, or should we just find joy in the moments and be willing to let it all go. I suppose such musings have been occupying the philosopher types for ages now, and I’m no great mind to offer up much of anything defining an answer.

I took myself on a walkabout a few days ago, shaking off the winter doldrums and beginning again on moving the old bones and sinews around, like so many of us promise ourselves we’ll do at the beginning of yet another year. We’d had a bit of rain, not near enough to bring the lake back to useable levels, but enough to allow a trickle of a stream reaching toward Big Water, making a bit of babbling watery noises, and sneaking itself under the beached and broken dock.



I wondered about those few remains of cairns of seasons past, and climbed up on the opposing bank and hill and walked amongst the rocks. I’d put one heart shaped rock high up on an outcrop, and was surprised to find it still there, and it was blessed with a ladybug in adornment.

Heart Rock copy




That’s supposed to be good luck, and it was the second one I’d encountered in just a few days, and it has been cold. No real excuse for ladybugs, so what was this one doing out and about, like me. Even higher and down the cove a bit were  indeed some recognizable remnants of cairns past, little pieces of me, still identifiable as rockwerks, but lacking their upper parts. But still…..there. Like me, still…

To BigWater


Admittedly, I got the wind knocked out of me last year. I got myself sideswiped and skewed, and doubting my own sensibilities. Who am I, indeed, to be pontificating about better choices and belief systems when I could no longer tolerate my own counsel and poor decisions. I threw myself into traveling and a bit of escaping, and found myself chasing my shadow around the monumental promontories and canyons of my beloved Southwest, but maybe my shadow was chasing me. I captured some beautiful images, but still felt emptyish on returning, and my world felt undefined. And then it was work and shows and more travel, and more just surviving and slogging through the mud of To Do’s, and I have felt becalmed in unenchanted waters. And I’ve had about enough of it.

And so I make my mark and fire up the brain cells and ask for whatever forgiveness need be asked – thinking it’s more for and by myself than anyone I ever thought had missed reading my ramblings – for I must know that all of this is more for my own self than anyone waiting breathlessly for my opinions about anything.

Peace, Y’all, and Happy Belated New Year.  It’s all going to be OK. Next?