Snake Farm; Ophiophobics beware

After a slight detour from the path with the Armadillo print, I am back to working on the 5 animals of Shoalin which are to be made into tea labels. The next in line is SNAKE. Many people are afraid of snakes, which is why there is a special word for it: ophiophobia.

Family portrait, me in center. Often left in the care of these two, I managed to survive being dropped on my head, having a glass broken on top of my head, and being squeezed by a large snake...One of the most oft repeated phrases at home was "Don't tease your sister." Needless to say I adore them both.

I am not afraid of snakes, wary and respectful as one should be of potentially poison creatures, but not afraid. The reason being I was raised with snakes, not by snakes, with snakes. My brothers, 10 and 12 years older than I, had a great interest in snakes, hence there were a few in the house. I learned to handle them and so have no particular fear. One time my parents were having people over for dinner and my brothers put a large boa, not the feather kind, on my 5 year old self and sent me out into the gathering. The guests were aghast, astounded, and stunned. The snake became frightened and started to squeeze........there were a few tense minutes as the brothers gently teased the snake off their little sister....

One of our scaley family members and a brother.

Several years later and several years ago, both are facts, on a neighborhood walk I came upon a boy and a girl throwing rocks at a smallish Gopher snake. "What are you doing?" I asked and the answer was trying to move the snake because they were scared of it. Luckily it had not been injured so I picked up the cool scaley fellow and let him loose in a nearby grassy lot, a much better snake home than the street. The kids were pretty impressed that a person could just pick up a snake, I hope they resist next time they have the impulse to throw rocks at something they

are scared of.......

Here is a shot of the final version and a proof. The final version is on top. After looking at the proof I decided that the bottom scales looked too much like fish bones, so I added a bokashi (gradation print) along the belly of the snake.

Colors used are Cobalt Blue Medium, Prussian Blue, Quinacridone red and a mix of Earth Green and Hanso Yellow. Image size is 7 by 5 inches. I also plan to reddish version when I get my delivery of Red Oxide (light AND medium) pigment dispersion.......

Monday Bunday

Here is Fats at the vet, stunning isn't he?

Our friend, Alice, over at Potentially Nervous is a a three bun mom, and one of her charges, Fats needs vet care for an injury and funds are really short for Alice just now. She is a glass artist, see her work here and an excellently unique photographer (see her work all over her blog!). By making an art purchase (glass or a print) or just a special Fats Donation you will be directly helping a rabbit in need. You can contact Alice (and Fats too) through her blog or website.

The Spots have lit candle for Fats,

well wishes and healing vibes are always welcome.

Tyler reminds everyone to always keep a diamond in your mind.

Have a good bunweek.

Travelog from the Past: Part VII

6/06/04 Punta Mona, Manzanillo, San Jose, Costa Rica

It is a good thing we are going back by boat to Manzanillo, I for one am not up for another 5 mile trek through the jungle. Little fishing boats with out board motors arrive and we wade out to them through the surf, getting mostly wet in the process. It isn't lunch time yet when we arrive in Manzillo, so everyone has free time on the beach. It the last leg of the trip and mostly everyone is well behaved and reasonable. I ask Patrick if he will keep an eye on my group with Annette so I can walk down the beach. Warm ocean to my right and rows of palm trees on the left, I walk and walk, the ocean licking feet, ankles, calves. I could go on like this forever.Wanderlust has taken over. I wonder if I would be missed if I kept walking, what would Dexter do if I failed to show for lunch? I walk and walk. I remember another time I wanted to just keep going. I had borrowed the family car for a road trip with my college housemates, my mother had given me $200, I had it in my back pocket. As I drove through the night I wondered what it would be like to just keep going and going. But I do turn back, just as I did decades ago, and arrive in time to gather for lunch. No one has noticed I was gone I think. I feel like I have been far away for hours and hours. I have a large fried fish for lunch, it is immensely satisfying. We bundle onto the bus for a last push back to San Jose and La Rosa American.

The roads we take seem more curvy than anything we have experienced yet. I get nauseous and develop a tremendous headache. All I want to do is lay down the dark and die. Somehow I get to the room and tell Annette I won't be going to dinner. I regret missing coconut flan , they are going back to that restaurant. Vaguely aware of goings and returnings I sleep fitfully and awake in the morning pain free and joyful to be alive.

6/07/04 San Jose, Costa Rica, San Francisco, California

We do return home. Though not without incident, one of the kids tried to "smuggle" food stateside and got busted by a dog. Our seats are all over the plane making actual supervision impossible, but it is not necessary, the students are intent on behaving like the seasoned travlers they have become. Mr. S, the teacher is complimented not once, but several times, on the excellent behavior of his class. One of the girls sits by me, M., she is truly a seasoned traveler, her father is Brazilian so the family often go south for the summer. She notes that I really don't like flying, then to soothe me adds "I know we act horrible, but we really do love you, all of us." And that's what I love about teenagers, full of surprises, all the time.

There is not much more to tell. The aerial view of the salt flats coming into SF is a spectacular- abstract-earth work-accidental-art piece. Do look down next time you fly in. The air back home seems dry and thin, not as lively and full of life as in the jungle. I miss being surrounded by the sounds of the jungle; that complex audio tapestry of animals, insects, and water. The feeling of life cycle being constantly played out in every nook and cranny. The jungle is strange, it gets into your blood. Despite all the bugs and difficulties, even now, five years later, I long for it......

Snug-a-buns

Travelog from the Past: Part VI

6/06/04 Punta Mona, Costa Rica

Acappella Rapping as performed by Los Chaperone's with dance steps!!!!

Things You've Heard Before.

Refrain: hey, hey, guys, guys, girls, 2 strikes, clean the bus, do you owe me money?

Patrick: don't grope, wash your hands, don't throw food, sit down, be quiet, no free time for you!

(retrain)

Annette: listen up, pay attention, Per and Nick don't mumble, speak up, hold hands, join the circle pronto.

(refrain)

Diana: where are your shoes dude? sunblock, bug stuff, come back James!, hurry up, pack up, get on the bus, and don't call me dude.

(refrain)

Janet: SHHHH..., that's rude, be quiet, don't run, can't have fun, who's there?, lights out, no TV, I'm just doing my job.

(refrain)

All: Hey teens you know we love you.

And here the journal ends....the above was, as you can guess, performed as part of a talent show the last afternoon. I am happy to report that we managed to keep the beat and our dance steps were totally synchronized. As to the rest of the trip I'll continue with the best memory can serve. I can't leave me stranded in Punta Mona.

During the talent show and after, much was made of the students by the staff of PM and our tour guides Zack and Mel. Although I know it is a bolstering up of the young, I feel like a worn out shoe, ready to be discarded. We have been taking turns helping to make dinner. This last day it is our group's turn. Salads were always present at PM. They consisted of an interesting mix of foliage, none of which would be recognizable stateside. Indeed a common ingredient were the leaves of the leaves of a tree that bordered the path down to the beach. There is something made with peppers being assembled and one of the PM cooks makes the mistake of wiping her face with her peppery hand. She starts to cry, almost screaming, they try to wash off the pepper juice with water. Janet, who is a nurse and who is usually taking a nap is roused, she suggests cold water, which already hasn't worked. I remember something and tell them to try a dairy product, any dairy product. Some cream goes on her face and the tears stop.

That night there is surprise birthday party for one of the girls. Most of us sneak down to the meeting hall and await in the dark. The birthday girl and some of her friends arrive a little later, she is thinking they are doing something daring, then we all start to sing. Not Happy Birthday, some other song, something less common. There is chocolate cake at the party. I am given a big piece, which I piggily wolf down. I am up all night from the chocolate rush. The next day I am an old shoe.

Travelog from the Past: Part V

6/03/04

Selva Verde, Manzanillo, Punta Mona, Costa Rica

We are up early for breakfast and with our slimmed down baggage back on the bus toManzanillo. We go by several banana plantations and Zack tells us about workers who have gotten ill/died from the pesticides. There are many for sale signs for houses all around Costa Rica. I wonder about retiring to a tiny shack. Lunch at Manzillo is at "Soda Lidia". Soda is a small restaurant or cafe` where locals might eat, see more here. I have a fish fillet, the usual and desirable rice and beans cooked with coconut milk, and a little cabbage salad. For dessert we have a very dense and chocolaty chocolate cake, not very sweet, but very, very real. We drive to the beach and our packs are loaded onto a fishing boat, we won't have to carry them on our hike. We set off into the jungle with our respective machete bearing guides. Ricco is a paunchy lively older black man with dreads. He shows us the Noni fruit tree and tells of it's various medicinal properties. It tastes like rotten Camembert cheese and the texture is jelly like. The jungle trek is narrow paths, up and down. There are, it seems, an innumerable variety of ants, most quite, quite large. Stopping to appreciate the leaf cutters even the kids are awed by these hard working agricultural creatures. Annette is bitten by a Bullet Ant. Bullet Ants can be used for stitching wounds together, you get them to attach to either side of the wound, then pinch off the body. This was not demonstrated. The Bullet Ants sting/bite is very painful and Annette's cries mingle with other sounds of the forest, cicadas, frogs, howler monkeys, macaws, the drip of condensation, for the next two hours. Later she tells me it didn't hurt all that time, but she needed a good cry. There are vines everywhere. We take a couple of quick stops at beaches, but can't dally, we have to put on speed if we are going to get to Punta Mona before dark. Night falls early and quickly at the equator. Ricco decides we have to take a short cut. This involves going through some deep mud and a few of the boys loose their shoes. We did warned them to tie them on, but tying shoes is not cool. My boots are just the thing, the mud is just up to the top, I am sure they look stunning with shorts. We walk past a cultivated plantation where all the laundry in set out on barbed wire negating the need for clothes pins. It is just dusk as we arrive at Punta Mona. We are fed some dinner, a vegetarian fare from the farm and jungle.

These boots were made for walking.

Annette, Patrick (dad/chaperon), and I share a bunk house with a large non-poisonous spider. We had met a similar one in the jungle and Ricco had made it crawl on everyone who would allow it. Everything is mosquito netted and for good reason. The bath rooms are quite a walk through the jungle, so peeing at night is done "al fresco". I spend quite a chunk of time in the middle of the night listening to the jungle.

6/04/04

Punta Mona, Costa Rica

It is an early morning with Qi Gong (!) at 7 and breakfast at 8. I go to the Qi Gong to see if it is anything new, not really, but the fellow leading the session is charmingly enthusiastic. Our group is off to tour the farm. It is hot and buggy, but interesting. I hope the guide's love of plants rubs off on the kids. It was supposed to be a 3 hour tour, but was shortened to 1 1/2 due to heat and bugs.We get some free time and everyone is off to the beach. The water is warm with lots of leaf bits, but welcome all the same. After lunch the kids are off to farm projects from which chaperons are exempt. I am really tired so I take a very nice nap. There is an Ultimate Frisbee game in which Dexter distinguishes himself. Like his kindergarten teacher said "he will play any game with anybody. "

6/05/04

Punta Mona, Costa Rica

Our group has free time in the morning today, most them choose to hang out. Annette and I wash dishes and do beach duty. A rainstorm hits in the afternoon, farm chores are cancelled. Everything and everyone is wet, and somehow fairly happy. Some make chocolate, some just hang out on the big deck in hammocks, or play foozball down stairs. To make chocolate you roast the beans, peel them, grind them, then mix with coconut, banana and cane sugar. A tree in the courtyard falls and Punta Mona inhabitants are at it in a minute with their machetes, cutting off branches and calling for strong boys to help. Dexter is one the first called, apparently he did a great job with his chores. I consider seeing if I can leave him here as he seems to be blooming. The boy cannot pick up a sock at home, but is straining at the leash to throw around chunks of a tree. Maybe heavier socks are called for.

Monday Bunday

The Spots make it to the top.

Sydney likes to look out the window from this vantage point.

Tyler wonders if it looks different from a higher elevation.

Have a great bunweek.

Travelog from the Past: Part VI

6/06/04 Punta Mona, Costa Rica

Acappella Rapping as performed by Los Chaperone's with dance steps!!!!

Things You've Heard Before.

Refrain: hey, hey, guys, guys, girls, 2 strikes, clean the bus, do you owe me money?

Patrick: don't grope, wash your hands, don't throw food, sit down, be quiet, no free time for you!

(retrain)

Annette: listen up, pay attention, Per and Nick don't mumble, speak up, hold hands, join the circle pronto.

(refrain)

Diana: where are your shoes dude? sunblock, bug stuff, come back James!, hurry up, pack up, get on the bus, and don't call me dude.

(refrain)

Janet: SHHHH..., that's rude, be quiet, don't run, can't have fun, who's there?, lights out, no TV, I'm just doing my job.

(refrain)

All: Hey teens you know we love you.

And here the journal ends....the above was, as you can guess, performed as part of a talent show the last afternoon. I am happy to report that we managed to keep the beat and our dance steps were totally synchronized. As to the rest of the trip I'll continue with the best memory can serve. I can't leave me stranded in Punta Mona.

During the talent show and after, much was made of the students by the staff of PM and our tour guides Zack and Mel. Although I know it is a bolstering up of the young, I feel like a worn out shoe, ready to be discarded. We have been taking turns helping to make dinner. This last day it is our group's turn. Salads were always present at PM. They consisted of an interesting mix of foliage, none of which would be recognizable stateside. Indeed a common ingredient were the leaves of the leaves of a tree that bordered the path down to the beach. There is something made with peppers being assembled and one of the PM cooks makes the mistake of wiping her face with her peppery hand. She starts to cry, almost screaming, they try to wash off the pepper juice with water. Janet, who is a nurse and who is usually taking a nap is roused, she suggests cold water, which already hasn't worked. I remember something and tell them to try a dairy product, any dairy product. Some cream goes on her face and the tears stop.

That night there is surprise birthday party for one of the girls. Most of us sneak down to the meeting hall and await in the dark. The birthday girl and some of her friends arrive a little later, she is thinking they are doing something daring, then we all start to sing. Not Happy Birthday, some other song, something less common. There is chocolate cake at the party. I am given a big piece, which I piggily wolf down. I am up all night from the chocolate rush. The next day I am an old shoe.

Travelog from the Past: Part IV

6/02/04

We are up as early as possible and after breakfast on the road. In retrospect I wish I had written down every meal like Annette did. I have checked my memories with Dexter's and we agree that the breakfast was buffet style with, of course, fresh tropical juices, rice and beans, handmade tortillas (so good, well it was all SO GOOD), stewed beef and more "regular" American food like scrambled eggs, bacon, cereal in a box, toast and coffee. I didn't have any of the coffee because, unfortunately my adrenals just can't handle it (I know you are thinking I'm a basket case) but it smelled fantastic and I did had a tiny sip, yum.

Today is River Rafting on Class 3 rapids. One of the guides, Pablo does a very funny intro, his delivery really hold the kids attention. I am shuffled off to a raft with 2 girls, a boy, Zack and a river guide, Luis. Once again we wear the ubiquitous yellow helmets which signal safety to the adventurous tourist but may not do so very much in an actual situation. Since this is river we wear life jackets too. On a raft you wedge one foot under the seat in front of you and the other under the seat behind you. We are given group commands to follow; forward, backward, left forward, right backward, stop, lean in, high side, get down. These the guide calls as he steers with his paddle.

Our boat gets stuck on a rock during the toughest rapids. We get unstuck but the boat buckles. The buckle makes me loose my "wedge", I loose contact with the seat completely and am thrown out of the boat. I do keep hold of my paddle and am able to grab the "Chicken Line" on the side of the raft. I get pulled along, bumping and scraping my knees on the bottom of the shallow rapids. Luis hauls me abroad. We are going along pretty well when suddenly I realize that Luis had disappeared, I put down my paddle and pull him in. He says the bumps he received to his ribs are nothing compared the the hard time his fellow guides will give him. We make it through the rest of the river without incident. Arriving at the river access to the hotel Pablo gives a speech about rivers and damming. At the hotel we are greeted by pictures of ourselves taken by the rafting company for 5 dollars US each.

Selva Verde is set in the jungle with the various units of rooms connected by covered passages. We all do a super quick change and enter the dining room just in time for the end of lunch. Annette and I are on chaperon duty for the rest of the day. The kids have a cooking class(empanadas), then dinner and salsa dancing. They are well occupied and the pace is beginning to wear on me. The jungle is green, and damp.It is gorgeous and loud with birds, insects and rain. I feel sad because I am too tired to draw. While walking along one of the covered passages I hear a thump in the foliage and find that an enormous, and I mean very very large, Iguana has dropped out of a tree and is unconcernedly making his slow way to wherever Iguanas go.

After dinner BF and I talk on the phone. The phone card he got is finally working, though I can barely hear what he is saying through the rain and the cars outside. It is the first months of our "courtship" and feels excruciating to be separated. OTOH my senses crave these new sights, sounds, and smells.

Since we are leaving for Punta Mona tomorrow we must pare down to the bare essentials. These instructions are given to the kids several times. We can only take as much as will fit in a small backpack. Considering the the usually outfits for the girls this could be two weeks worth of clothing. Annette and I are in charge of overseeing the boys and go room to room checking on their progress. Two of them are particularly rude, not letting us in and repeatedly calling us "Dude", which, I inform them, is not an appropriate form of address for an adult. We suspect that one of the girls is in their room and quickly check the whereabouts of the usual suspects to find that one is not in her room. On our way back to the rude boys room we pass her.....