While I’m recovering from a stroke, the salmon are still running. While I’m relearning painstakingly simple things like walking and doing dishes, the salmon people are showing off their incredible athleticism in streams all over the Pacific Northwest. Luckily I was able to see the Chinook before the stroke here at Tumwater Falls Park.
The water was churning with their bodies as they waited their turn…
and they were leaping up the falls!
We said goodbye to their beautiful golden bodies as they waited in tanks for their eggs to be harvested for the next generation.
Every year the same drama – and this year I was inspired to explore the salmon run in a personal way through Muse Art.
Acrylic inks, gesso, and collage on 10×11” watercolor paper
The salmon are running
claiming these waters as their own
lining up soldier fashion
for the battle upstream.
We waterside cheerleaders stand
imagine the death defying leap
such urgency to complete life’s purpose
a release of all life’s energies
to the next generation
no strings attached
just a simple blessing.
Carry on young ones
Do what you can.
Doing what you can sounds like good advise. So my stroke quote for today, while contemplating a possible third nap, is:
“Your speed doesn’t matter. Forward is forward. ” -anonymous
Let’s call it a stroke of luck, why not? It could have been worse. When I woke up a month ago, surprise! the right side of my body had gone all wonky The tests confirmed a stroke which has effected my ability to walk and balance and reliably use my right arm/hand. The lucky part is my dominant hand, my speech, and my strength was unaffected.
Of course I mostly rest and sleep and content myself with watching the birds at the feeders outside my window, try to do a bit of art and let my family deal with the details of life and a slow and uncertain recovery routine.
From a photo, courtesy Lisa Genuit
With my good hand my first try making art became an attempt to finish the last pages of my local bird journal. Later I realized I’d chosen an angelic looking pose of a Kingfisher in hovering motion. Good instincts, at least. An angel was just what I needed.
Next I picked up my pen in my stroke affected hand to see if I could draw a portrait of my son who patiently posed for me. After all drawing with a non dominant hand is a frequently taught method of accessing creative mark making! I gripped the pen like my life depended on it, but to my immense relief it worked, more or less, to make marks at least.
Then on to a very fat chickadee (dominant hand)of the sort making frequent visits outside my window. . .
And finally a robin sporting all the typical fall colors.
But of course I’ve also been finding ways to involve the less reliable right hand that wants badly to be kept in the game! Games are great – Mandala with its slippery marbles and Mexican Train dominoes and Scrabble played slowly as I clumsily maneuver the pieces into place with my ever ready but imprecise hand.
I’ll take you along as I, once again, use art making as a way to lumber through new challenges. I’ll be feeding myself good poetry and excellent quotes for the journey. Here’s one I particularly like for today:
It does not matter how slow you go as long as you do not stop.” — Dr. Seuss
That’s a mouthful! We met downtown at the fountain by Capitol Lake. Missy handed us the list – 12 things to find and sketch in the area, about 10 minutes for each if we wanted to win the prize (which we all did!) Things like a store sign, a person wearing a hat, a bird, something making noise, etc.
I’ll admit I was filled with doubt, but also prepared, since years ago, before the arthritis and foggy eyesight, I was a avid quick sketcher.
I dug out my veteran sketchvest from at least a decade ago and filled the pocket with pens and water brush. The Whiskey Palette clipped onto a handy corroplast board along with the concertina folded paper both Paige and I brought. I could have used a warm jacket. Down by the waterfront is always colder, and the sun didn’t come out til just as we finished.
And so the race was on! I’ll admit I cut lots of corners which allowed me to take shelter to warm up and sketch the “something out in the water” and the “someone doing their job” in the warmth of the Bayview grocery with the upstairs view of the Bay.
And lo and behold at 12:30pm we converged at the fountain again and all had succeeded in finishing the 12 sketches, in different artful ways!
. . .for a joyful throw down in the (finally) sun, to receive our prizes, a colorful sticker of our Olympia setting urban sketch group. Many thank to Missy for planning this and making it so fun.
The day is now preserved in concertina format, within a simple cover glued onto the endpaper – ready to join the archive which is spilling out of my bookshelf!
Happy Autumn Equinox, the first day of the season when many of us get excited about the crisp new air, nature’s ravishing color displays, about apples and pumpkins and Halloween.
Can you remember what you were doing at the equinox years ago, like in 2008 for instance? Me neither. But my blog knows, so I thought I’d share it with you. Eighteen years ago I learned to appreciate the equinox, spring or fall, in a new way, as a time of equal night and day, when nature gives us a preview of what’s to come.
So the following is September 22, 2008, filled with art and memories I’d not thought about for years. The setting was my previous home of 21 years in the wine country of Sonoma County, California.
Autumnal Equinox at Lynmar
Today is the autumnal equinox, one of the two times of year when day and night are of equal length. Something I’ve never before given much thought to. Until last week when Michael Presley, the master gardener and permaculture expert at Lynmar Estates, made me aware of why this past weekend was a most excellent choice for a nature sketchbooking workshop. Apparently the hormonal activity of plants reaches a peak at this time, what with the bearing of fruit and the beginning germination of seeds. And concurrently, I can now attest, the creative activity of artists who sit around staring at those same seeds and fruit and flowers, peaks as well! (I won’t discuss the hormonal activity of artists here!) It is also a time when the pairs of opposites are both equally represented. And so it rained gently Friday night to usher in a dry and sunny weekend with a cornucopia of delights for eager sketchers.
Pumpkins and sunflowers – always my favorites for fall sketching. Most of the wine grapes had already been picked, and the tasting room was busy with happy wine sippers, while outside the flowers and grasses and the very ground itself was humming with happy bees and butterflies (and once again those artists, with their own brand of intoxication). And doubtless each group equally was content to be where they were.
We had prepared some pages with textured printing – this one with saran wrap on wet watercolor. I was drawn to this plant with its showy tassels of grain -Nature is such a show off at this time of year – and could not be satisfied with the sketch until I’d added some. While I sat and sketched I heard a rustling that sounded like a creature close at hand and I stopped breathing to listen. . . it was coming from these stalks of grain knocking against each other in the breeze, as if they were speaking to me. So I was quiet a moment and listened. When we sketch we can meet with our subject at a place out beyond the ordinary perceptions.
Hilla and the perennials
Come back tomorrow for more equinoxian raptures. . .
The 2008 post ends there, but just so you know, viewing my blog on your computer you can go back as far as 2006 by clicking on the Archives tab in the right column.
And sure enough, this day in 2026 has divided itself up, equinoxian style, into cool and misty morning and sunny warm afternoon.
These early autumn days, oh so precious here in the PNW! Sunshine warmth without the bake, a bit of crisp in the air to invigorate. School is in session but the small children and parents are exploring the beach with urgent high pitched exclamations of first discovery. Look! Barnacles on the clam shell!
. . .and our group of sketchers embedded themselves so completely in the landscape that it wasn’t until later that they emerged.
I fell in love with this leaning tree and the child underneath and put the sketcher in the foreground – all wonky perspective – but it tells my story of the day.
As the days get cooler I look forward to more time in the cozy warmth of the studio and the contemplative art that has soothed my soul for many years. The Muse Groups embody that restless search for meaning through artistic expression, by the joining together of friends with shared life experience and interest in finding new ways of self expression.
I’m looking forward to the next series of The Playful Muse, which is now open for enrollment! I will be sharing the lessons on the blog, so if you are not in the Olympia, WA area, you can play along.
Acrylic inks, gesso, collage on w/c paper
The Playful Muse: Mixed Media Painting Classes in a Fall 2026 series with Susan Cornelis
Find new spontaneity and playfulness in your art-making. The Muse Group is a creative laboratory designed to help you uncover your intuitive voice while guiding you in fresh, unexpected directions.
Each session introduces a new mixed-media painting technique, expanding your repertoire and gently pushing the boundaries of inks, acrylics, and watercolors. You’ll explore texture, collage, printmaking, mark-making, and more—building layers of discovery and experimentation.
Meditation and reflective writing are woven into each session to quiet the inner critic and awaken powerful Muse energy. Whether you’re a beginner or an experienced painter, this workshop offers a supportive space to play, explore, and deepen your creative practice.
It’s a good thing I couldn’t get down on the dock at Tugboat Annies to get the up close view of the boats. I was already feeling a bit woozy, and the dock is a movable feast of grizzled looking boat dwellers carrying supplies back and forth, causing sensory undulations. The last thing they needed was a sketcher blocking their way.
So I sat on the shore next to Mary Campbell and tackled a complex scene with lots of water reflective weirdness which I would never have undertaken if we hadn’t had two full hours to sketch! Too much time for me I think. Note to self: stick to one hour max and move on to another sketch to keep it fresh.
Here’s the mariner sketcher group from the day. We headed upstairs to Tugboat Annie’s restaurant afterwards to reward ourselves with lunch!
Labor Day’s big event was Olympia Porchfest, a whole afternoon, 12-7pm, of music on 12 porches spread around a neighborhood in NE Olympia with 55 scheduled performers/groups, all different genres of music and comedy.
We met up with Missy, dressed here in a printed tee with the illustration/logo she’d created for the event, and ready to sketch. She explained some of the logistics of the event and off we went!
And indeed we found the music on porches scattered around this residential neighborhood. With no familiarity with any of the performers and only two hours to spend, all I could do was to find a porch with musicians visible enough to sketch from wherever I could perch, squeezed in between two people in their folding chairs. These were the first two I found, tucked away on one of the side streets.
. . .and so, I plunged in, drawing with a Sharpie pen and putting some color on with a mini palette and water brush. Later I cut up the Porchfest map and glued pieces into the sketchbook.
Arriving at the second porch we found that the group was two songs from the end of their set. I could only see one of them from where I was able to sit, but soon realized that the crowd was equally interesting and more visible! (color and text added at home)
Again, the spectator and the performer. . .The house here was painted navy blue with purple trim, which very much fit the performance.
I confess I’m at a loss for words about this experience. It was not so much about the music, or even the sketching. By the end I was feeling like I’d entered another reality, like a magical mystery tour, where everywhere I looked there was something unexpected – a purple house with red and teal trim, a large Persian cat riding a bike, an Eco Glitter Bar. My Portland friend Janet, who was along for a visit, felt right at home. It’s the friendly, quirky, comfortable, feel -free -to -be -yourself vibe that makes this California post-hippy girl feel like I’ve landed well in Olympia!
It’s getting hard to find a new spot to sketch Olympia’s Harbor Days. I’ve done tug boats and sand carvers and pirates and sea shanty singers and panoramas of Percivals Landing with all the tents and crowds and Harbor House and more! Paige has too. So we wandered down the boardwalk and found a bench outside Splash art gallery where we had this view in the distance.
And because we were in front of the gallery it looked like we were doing painting demos. So, lots of friendly people stopped to watch and talk to us. . .which was fun, if a little distracting. While rummaging around in my bag for a card to hand to someone, my favorite Rosemary travel brush rolled off and found its way between the boards in the boardwalk to possibly join the tugboats out in the harbor. No problem I guess. It had given me years of service and I had my recently purchased Fuumuui brush handy to replace it! (Note: always bring an extra!)
It was a small turnout for the meet up, with just Paige and Susan A and I for the throw down. Fun to see how two artists sitting in the same spot made it their own.
There was time to check out the action in other areas.
We were invited to paddle the dragon boat waiting on the dock below for a 15 minute easy paddle in the bay. We were tempted, though I must say my rickety knees might have made getting out of the seat in the boat and up on the deck a bit embarrassing! Maybe another time I’ll have the nerve to try.
These two youngs minstrels playing ole timey music on their banjos would have presented another possible sketch opportunity, but the timing wasn’t right.
And the industrious sand carvers – the one on the right working on the details of a whale spouting.
If you’d like to go back and see some of my previous years’ posts of Harbor Days art, you can find them here.
We ended our day with lunch at the new restaurant Vino Mar Bistro outside on the boardwalk., enjoying their Latino inspired lunch fare.
Thursday morning we pictured ourselves stranded out in a field of 9 foot sunflower giants in the midst of a downpour and were on the verge of cancelling our Thursday meet up to the Sunflower Festival at Rutledge Family Farm due to an ominous prediction of rain. But some of us showed up anyway. . ..and bought the ticket for the wagon ride out through the muddy puddles to where 42 varieties of sunflowers, from 1-9 feet tall and every color from yellow to orange to deep russet to black and white to pink, were freshly washed and waiting to be sketched! Well, maybe not, but we certainly were ready for them.
Brian Rutledge gave us an introduction to what to expect, let us know he would drop us off but be there to pick us up whenever we were ready. His family has farmed in the area since the 1850’s when they arrived on the Oregon Trail! I was delighted to find out that he knew that other family of settlers we met this summer at the Colvin Ranch! Even though the Rutledge Farm holds these big harvest events and a farmer’s market (see their website), this is far from agro-business. The acres of sunflowers were all planted by hand and any machinery they use has been repaired and restored to keep it in use for a long time.
We spent the first bit of time after the drop off just wandering through the rows of flowers in wonder, taking pictures and figuring out what and where we wanted to sketch.
I picked a wet spot where there were different varieties to gaze at. Behind me was one of the props the farm puts out among the flowers to entice people to take more pictures. I just started at one end of my paper and worked my way across as fast as I could, not knowing when the rain drops would turn to full rain.
It never did rain! But we needed to catch the wagon back to the entrance.
So while we waited we got a group shot (minus two who had to leave earlier). Do we look like a bunch of kids? Yeah, it was fun.
