Susie Kelly Flatau | Enjoy The Journey Art Gallery

Susie Kelly Flatau | Enjoy The Journey Art Gallery

I am delighted to be associated with Enjoy the Journey Art Gallery in West Seneca, NY.  Life IS good.

Sacred in the Ordinary, Installation #9: Mr. Fox on the Front Lawn, 4.12.12

I was dreaming, lost in a deep-deep slumber, when I heard Jack's voice, far-far away, calling me.  "Susie...(he called) I need a box...I need a box."  What?  What's wrong? my mind questioned.  Feeling groggy, I tried to figure out why he needed a box, and why he sounded so urgent.  "Was Jack hurt?" My mind screamed, "Get up...now!"  My heart leapt... 

I scrambled to kick back the covers that were twisted about my body; I scrambled to find my glasses on the bedside table.  And then, I scrambled--kind of in one of those "I feel drunk" attempts to walk when waking from a dream that has been holding you under its heavy hands--out of the bedroom, down the three steps into the dining room...and there was Jack, pointing out the front windows.  He didn't look hurt...he looked excited!

I looked.  I saw. There was a Mr. Fox on our front lawn.

This is the second fox we've spied on the gentle land that slopes away from our house toward the brush line.  The other was much smaller, more reddish, and much more shy as he (or she?) remained very close to the edge of the milkweed and Multiflora rose and dogwoods.  

But not this fellow.  No.  

He was tracking something -- a scent of the bobbed-tail squirrel that plays in that same area?  

The scent of deer urine--yeah, those guys hang out in our front lawn, too.  Or what?

I grabbed my camera and began to snap pics. 

He sniffed here.... 

he sniffed there...

he follow that scent to the east...

to the south...

and then he stopped...and sniffed some more... 

but after a short while, he must have decided that it was time to go...so he headed onward... 

...and up the driveway toward the side lawn.  

Isn't he a marvelous fellow?  What a sacred, sacred gift to be given so early in the morning.

I walked over to pour myself a cup of coffee, and I just smiled...

Jack wasn't yelling "I need a box"...of course not...

"I see a fox;  I see a fox!" was what he called out in excitement.

I love that man... 

Funny, isn't it, how words can get so scrambled 

when you are so deep into a dream.   

Ideas Become Real at the Point of Action...

New Website Re-design with emphasis on my Artist's Life....sharing...sending out the Ripple....

www.wordsbysusie.com

namaste

Sacred in the Ordinary, Installation #8: Tommy Turkey Trotting and Tree Sittin'

The past week has been amazing.  Warmer weather arrived in Western New York, the sunshine has smiled upon us day after day, and nature has begun to celebrate.  Not only are we starting to see signs of leaves budding out on some of the trees and shrubs...but, oh, my...our little feathered friends are doing their own style of "budding out."  Romance is in the air.  Nests are being cozied up for the arrival of new babies.  AND ... one big Tom Turkey has been strutting his stuff.

While working in our home office several days ago, a sudden movement outside the window caught my eye...I glanced right...and there HE was...Tom, Tom the Turkey Tom...just strolling across our back lawn.  

Then days later, while sipping on a morning cup of coffee and chatting over the phone with my brother, Gary, another sudden movement outside the dining room window caught my eye.  In the far distance, downhill from where our home sits, two giant birds were lumbering through the air toward a copse of tall pine trees.  I hopped up and exclaimed to Gary--"oh, my gosh, wait...what is that?  what are those birds?"  

As I took a closer look -- I realized I was watching two large turkeys flying to roost atop the pine trees.  I told Gary I'd have to talk with him later.  I grabbed my camera and darted out the front door 

to try to capture this moment. 

Here is the little story as it unfolded.

One of the turkeys took his (or was it a "her"?) place 

atop a 30' pine tree...there he was...just sitting...

and gazing to the east...

and then he began to cluck-cluck (or however you'd describe that sound turkeys make) and look around...

slowly he craned his long neck and looked west...

and then he cluck-clucked some more, and turned his gaze 

straight at me...

uh-oh...I had been spotted!

There we were...the two of us, locked in a gaze...

neither daring to move...both just gazing, gazing. 

Then...with a thwump-thwump-thwump...

up he rose off the peak of that pine tree. 

Into the air he flew, following a half-circle arc.  

With wings spread, he flew in my direction. 

In my excitement, I snapped only the onset of his flight...

but the joy is that he flew directly overhead--

only about 15 feet above me...

and I swear, I could hear the 

th-wump th-wump th-wump of air being forced outward 

in doppler ripples by his wings as he flew out of sight... JOY!

Fly, Tommy Turkey, Fly!

Art Installation #1: Cardinal in Flight

I am pleased to announce that my art work has been selected
for inclusion in the Ashwood Artisans Gallery 

(www.ashwoodartisansgallery.com) 

in East Aurora, New York, and in

the West Seneca Art Society Spring 2012 Fine Art Show 

at the Burchfield Nature & Art Center
(www.burchfieldnac.org) in West Seneca, New York.  

Connected with each of my paintings there is an "aha" moment, 

a snippet of a story, or perhaps one single word
that sets the painting in motion.  

The story behind this first art installation arose from a recent morning as I watched ten cardinals--five males, five females--play outside the sunroom window.  It was a rare sunny winter's morning for us in Western New York.  And just as the surprise of sunshine on that particular morning lit my soul on fire, so it must have done the same for these cardinals.  

They played.  They chattered.  They hopped and flitted.  And they skimmed the rolling landscape like ruby-red bottle rockets.  They made me happy.  They gave me energy that morning, 

and I wanted to capture what I saw in my mind's eye.  

The final creation:

"Cardinal in Flight"

30" x 40" 

acrylics on stretched canvas

Soul Food: Gathering of Dear Friends at Jo Ann's

This morning I woke to thoughts that were circling around the very idea of "Soul".  How do we define soul?  Why do we have a soul?  What happens in our daily lives to remind us about the essence of soul?  Don't ask me why those were the first thoughts that washed like waves upon my waking thoughts, but they were, and I let them ripple about a bit before tossing back the comforter.

And then...after getting out of bed, I stood for a long moment at the open bedroom window.  I stood there, gazing out at the thicket of bramble bushes that obscure our clear and direct line of vision into the woods--woods that invite our new adventures.  Strange though, instead of seeing thorns and briars and the menacing arching branches of the invasive Multiflora Rose that have rum rampant over the many years before we became the new stewards of this land--well, instead of seeing these prickly invaders as blemishes, this morning, they remind me that I believe everything on the planet has a soul.

I will skip the teeny details of the next 20 minutes--coffee with Jack, putting away last night's dinner dishes, feeding Galaia, opening the windows--and dance on over to my NOW.  Now I sit at the computer thinking about what I wish to write about today.  Now I smile at the sound of the geese who are honking their way across the sky.  Now I listen to the woodpecker who is ham-ham-hammering a tree in distress.  Now I watch the curtain that is billowing in the cool breeze that filters through the open transom window.

And in that ballet of small Now-Occurrences, my soul inhales and opens up, and I see the faces of some of the most beautiful women and men who are part of my Soul-Story. Who long ago took up residence in my soul and set up their own little home in my heart.  Who still, to this day, appear in my Soul-Story without as much as a little notice--yes, every so softly and silently they simply appear, floating in as if to say, "I'm here...just dropping by for a little visit."

And so it is that I wish to see their eyes again, shining and happy.
And so it is that I wish to send out my love
in a whsiper to each one of these beautiful souls.

Namaste.

Sacred in the Ordinary, Installation #7: Beauty in a Seed Pod

Sometimes, words simply cannot describe a moment 

when pure magic meets the morning.  

Such was the case during my walk-about this past Saturday morning.  The temperature was in the 40s, the sky was blue, the sun was shining.  Many times I have strolled alongside the front edge of the brush-line on my way to get the morning paper.  Many times I have scanned the multiflora rose that invades the hillside.  Many times I have marveled at the lines created by the various wild grasses.

And during each of those strolls where I surveyed the natural landscape,
I have passed a cluster of tall stalks, each sporting large seed pods that have the texture of aged and ancient driftwood.

I have stopped to study their curious textures.  I have stopped and taken in the interesting vignettes they create with their empty husks.


Yes, countless times I have glanced at those tall stalks crowned with those ancient looking seed pods, and each time I simply continued on my way to the mailbox.









But not this past Saturday morning.  On this morning, Mother Nature had woven her magic.  On this morning, sun-reflecting, cotton-candy white floss-like fibers were spun like pure angel's hair from the seed pods that had opened.

Pure magic. Pure wonder. 

So pure, that I will not attempt to describe the experience with words...but rather, 

will bow to their wondrous beauty by sharing these photographs that I snapped 

on this magical Saturday morning of Milkweed** seed pods 

that had burst open in all their glory.  

**Asclepias L. (1753), the milkweeds, is a genus of herbaceous perennial, dicotyledonous plants that contains over 140 known species. It previously belonged to the family Asclepiadaceae, 

but this is now classified as the subfamily Asclepiadoideae of the dogbane family Apocynaceae.

Milkweed is named for its milky juice, which contains alkaloids, latex, and several other complex compounds including cardenolides. Some species are known to be toxic.

Carl Linnaeus named the genus after Asclepius, the Greek god of healing, because of the many folk-medicinal uses for the milkweed plants.

Pollination in this genus is accomplished in an unusual manner. Pollen is grouped into complex structures called pollinia (or "pollen sacs"), rather than being individual grains or tetrads, as is typical for most plants. The feet or mouthparts of flower visiting insects such as bees, wasps and butterflies, slip into one of the five slits in each flower formed by adjacent anthers. The bases of the pollinia then mechanically attach to the insect, pulling a pair of pollen sacs free when the pollinator flies off. Pollination is effected by the reverse procedure in which one of the pollinia becomes trapped within the anther slit.

Asclepias species produce their seeds in follicles. The seeds, which are arranged in overlapping rows, have white silky filament-like hairs known as pappus, silk, or floss. The follicles ripen and split open and the seeds, each carried by several dried pappus, are blown by the wind. They have many different flower colorations.