Restoration Caboose

Restoration Caboose

A few weeks ago, I sketched this small train car, which was parked in a dark shed at the Railway Museum. It was undergoing restoration.

This week, I feel the need to undergo restoration myself.

It’s the week before my art retreat, and I’m immersed in a To Do Marathon. I have a lot that needs doing in order to ‘clear the decks’ for some time away.

I have some strategies to keep me going this week. Before I get going on my day, I visualize the flow of my day’s activities, and I also feel myself moving through my busy day with ease and joy.

That practice has helped me immensely. I feel very different, more balanced and more peaceful, than I have in prior years during the week before my vacation.

Still, I’m definitely in need of the kind of deep restoration that an extended break gives me.

I’m looking forward to the luxury of spending an entire week working on my stained art glass mosaic. It will be just the restoration I need.

Just like this little train car, I will then be all restored and ready to come out of the darkness and into the light.

Art in the ‘Hood

Last month I shared an experience of discovering a natural sculpture that my artist neighbor, Amy, had created at our mailbox.

Creating natural sculptures have now become a passion of ours, along with our two neighbor families who share a woods with us.

It’s become a spontaneous adventure of art and ‘ambush,’ in the best sense of the word. :)

It all started when our three families got together and watched a DVD about the renowned Scottish sculptor Andy Goldsworthy, who creates sculptures that are completely composed of natural materials and are ephemeral.

We were inspired to create some natural sculptures of our own.

A month or so later, Harold and I were walking dogs in the early morn and came upon our next door neighbor’s mailbox.

Grapevine Mailbox

A grapevine was artistically arranged around their mailbox. It actually looks a lot better than my drawing, more spiral-y and less snakelike, but you get the idea.

The next sculpture to appear was Amy’s creation at our mailbox.

It really surprised me as went to get our mail one afternoon.

Amy's Mailbox Sculpture

In ‘retaliation’ for Amy’s work, we and our neighbors decided to get creative with Amy’s house.

We graced their mailbox with natural chimes. These chimes are made of different kinds of wood hung on a grapevine.

Chimes

Then we found a big piece of oak tree bark with moss growing on it, from a downed tree in the woods. We added some stones for teeth and an eye, and voila! ……. a boar’s head appeared on their front porch.

Boar's Head

At that point, the dandelions on Amy’s sculpture at our mailbox had died and disintegrated, so the hemp weaving was available for reinvention. The more I looked at it, the more it began to look like a spider’s web to me.

I found a piece of oak bark and some oak twigs and……I call it “Lynne goes over to the Dark Side.”

Spider

This morning, Harold and I were again walking Harper and Cinnamon and we spotted a small clearing, just a little into the driveway on our next door neighbor’s property.

And there it was, a flowing cascade of a sculpture, positioned between two live trees, and sharing space with a dead tree stump. You just gotta love grapevines. :)

Flowing Cascade

I can’t even begin to describe this experience in all of it’s abundance: the sense of conspiracy and community, the absolute shock of delight in each new discovery, the gift of being in the flow of creativity and inspiration, and the grace of generosity of spirit.

I can only imagine what Bill and Sherry, our Mail People, think!

I’m sure this is only the beginning of this story. Amy calls it “Art War.” I love oxymorons, and I love being a part of this big adventure.

Beauty in the Shadows

In another recent blog post, I wrote about how I found beauty in a scrap heap.

Yesterday, I found beauty in the shadows.

Milwaukee Road 1984 Caboose

This caboose was parked way back in the shadows of a huge diesel locomotive, over three times its size. It’s the Milwaukee Road #1984, built in 1946.

It’s diminutive size and colorful exterior really appealed to me and I wanted to bring it out into the light with my drawing.

In the U.S., almost all cabooses were retired by 1988, superseded by superior technology.

The American icon of the Little Red Caboose was suddenly history.

At the end of the day, Joel, the Conductor on the Mainline, stopped by to look at my drawings. “Oh, that’s the caboose that’s tucked behind the CN&W in the South Yard.”

Pretty good, considering there are 375 pieces of equipment in the museum, which has the largest collection of ‘rolling stock’ in the U.S.

I’m happy that I’m not the only one who appreciates these treasures of a bygone era.

Sometimes the most beautiful things are hiding in the shadows.