There is nearly no internet, and no email, and sometimes one bar of cell service but generally none. I've snuck up here to post some pictures, which you should check out on Flickr – there's no way they'll post here! 

But! Today's circle was a perfect Haystack moment. I was working on my circle for today, having completed a couple of other pieces and made a velvet jacket for a beach stone (long story, I'll tell it when I come home) and just as I was thinking about how to finish the circle to hold all the tiny pieces of chopped up thread I had added, someone from the Print Studio offered to show us some beeeswax encaustic, and then I encausticed the circle, and it is beautiful and smells wonderful. 

you can only imagine!

Bucketing rain last night, and into this morning. What I did not realize, when I signed up for a room with no bathroom, was that I'd have to walk for it, in the middle of the night; outside, up two flights of stairs, in the dark, and last night in the rain. And yet, this is a pretty fabulous place. 

We were inside this morning, trying to draw our faces on mirrors. It turns out, if you look into a mirror, you can take a pen and trace your own features on the surface of the mirror. It also turns out that it is substantially easier if you shut one eye. Even then there are odd places where you swayed and failed to replace yourself perfectly. But the end results are interesting. I made one drawing using transfer pen, so I could iron the image onto fabric, and then stitch it. That was fun. 

The same idea can be used to look out a window and draw, on the window, the scene you see. That was the basis for the circle today. It was an image I drew onto the studio window using water soluble crayons. I pulled the print onto wetted fabric, and stitched it onto the circle. 

a circle about the things we built on the wall (click through to see the assemblage pictures on Flickr) Bandwidth is very narrow, so I won't say much. 

most of those in a good way – I'll learn more today

I wish I could travel as the crow flies today! I'm headed waaay down Maine (downwind during the summer's prevailing winds) and from Bath to Deer Isle is a long winding way. I'll be in Deer Isle tonight, at Haystack.

I have no idea what connections are like that far north, so posting may be spotty. Be assured I will return with pictures and tales –

via www.flickr.com

A bluejay for you in the middle of the last whirlwind of packing. I'll leave tomorrow around lunchtime, stay with friends for the night, and hammer up the coast on Sunday.

It is still hot, but with Alice off to NYC to fold paper, Aerin and I have let the air-conditioner rest, and made do with fans. Aerin would like to be a tropical girl. Alice and I are both polar people. Air conditioning makes us polar people happier, but Aerin sits on the end of the couch under a pile of blankets with her lips turning blue. So. Warmth today. Also a couple thunderstorms, just to shake things up.

via www.flickr.com

Cstbirds are loud, and vulgar, and not brightly colored, and I love them anyhow. It might have something to do with reading a great deal of Thurber in my youth, including the short story The Catbird Seat. Or not.

That is a bug in her beak. It is not a mistake.

via www.flickr.com

Yesterday was flipping hot. So was today. The living room is cool. Our bedroom is cool. My workroom is a sauna. So I go in, and work for ten or fifteen minutes, and then retreat somewhere to let the sweat dry.

Barn swallows fly low across the tops of the grass in the fields, and swoop back and forth in front of your horse when you ride out. There is something thrilling about their speed and dedication, and something else hypnotic about their patterns. The horses are spooked the first couple times in the field, and then they get used to it.

via www.flickr.com

The awesome thing about a mockingbird is how many different songs you get for the price of one bird. I was listening idly last week, and heard a blue jay, and a cardinal, and a robin, and a catbird, and then a very odd seagull, and then I realized all those bird songs had come from the same place. Mockingbird. My father remembers one in the neighborhood of his youth that would sing with his neighbor while she practiced piano.

via www.flickr.com

Alice presented me this lovely wafty object. I think it probably came from the neighbor's chickens. They are young yet, and still fledging out.

I wandered around the neighborhood today looking for chickens to photograph. My friend Kim doesn't keep them any more, but Karin has four handsome ladies around the corner, and Maddie next door has five teenagers.