WOMANKRAFT WONDER WOMEN  by Linn Lane

“As Artists we must transcend not only our sources but our resources as well.”    Linn Lane

THAT QUYNN

That Quynn!  She’s a favorite example of what I mean by the above statement.  Recently she turned two workshops, for which she was paid 180 handsome Tucson Pima Arts Council dollars, into a wonderful 4 minute WomanKraft video that any of us can be proud to show anywhere. All the workshop participants got to learn the video making process and be talent by expressing their thoughts and feelings about WomanKraft.  Though short, a lot of territory was covered because she included additional digital images taken of many of us around the Castle over time.  The participants were extremely articulate, and I want to personally thank Mary Ng, Laura Leighton, Elke Collins and Gail Paz for their impressive, wise, and descriptive words about WomanKraft and the arts.

Then on March 31st that Quynn further enhanced our sources and resources by showing this and several other of her videos.  This event had three inspirational qualities. The videos, most with spirit weaving musical compositions by Danny August, brought us a balance of challenges the Earth faces and the beauty of the land.  The audience seemed to enjoy a strong sense of community while they enjoyed the videos, the snacks, and  the Castle’s homey environment.  Third, of course, the event was held together by the thought provoking ideas and commentary of that Quynn. 

THAT DONETTE

You’ve seen her recently up on the ladder working on the mural on the porch. She’s doing us a special favor here because that Donette’s mural painting business is really taking off.  A mural she painted in Ouida Wallace’s backyard in 2004 was the hit of the
Botanical Garden’s fund raising tour this year.  And that Donette recently got a contract to do a wall at Loew’s Ventana Canyon. 

She’s been mural painting for 12 years.  So if you have a lifeless space that needs her creative attention call her at  792-8412 .  It’s Spring!  Spruce up!

THAT GAYLE 

“Appreciate what you have today because it’s what you’ll be working with tomorrow.”  Gayle Swanbeck

This statement struck me because I’d recently become aware of how suddenly one’s resources can change on a day to day basis.  In this case, I was blessed with an abundance of actors interested in auditioning for my play, “Water’s Edge”.  As this goes to print we may have our cast.  That Gayle will be directing. 

If you think that Gayle is everywhere, you’re pretty much right.  She’s out supervising and touching up flowers for the mural painting crew, more wonderwomen , Jane Macomber, Gail Paz, and Cindy Mortlock.  She’s in selling  paintings and teaching classes.  She’s driving picking up rocks for the lemon tree’s rock wall.  She sitting doing the dang 1099 forms. She’s recording a radio show. Where ever whatever is going on at WomanKraft that Gayle can usually be found centerstage. 

Luna the Cat! 

WomanKraft is blessed with the presence of a lovely cat named Luna. 
Linn Lane “interviewed” Luna for the spring 05 newsletter.

INTERVIEW WITH QUEEN LUNA the Cat
By Linn Lane
L.L. How did you first come to the WomanKraft Castle?
Q.L Up over the back fence as you well know.
L.L. Was there any particular thing that inspired you to come?
Q.L. Yes, there was a white smell on the air so I came over for a look see and there you were getting out of your white car
licking a big white dairy queen. You said I looked Egyptian. I said I liked dairy queen.

L. L.  Yes, I gave you a little dish and asked if your name was Bast but then a woman came to the fence saying she was Monica, your name was Luna and you were her cat.
Q.L. Humans can be so possessive.
L.L. Whatever happened to Monica?
Q.L. I wish I knew.
L.L. That must have been very hard for you.
Q.L. Oh, I don't know.  I'm not necessarily a one-person cat.
L.L. And why is that?
Q.L. Partly I think it's genetic. Then too you see what can happen with these young kittens that become so attached but from a young age I've realized the importance of keeping
several options open.
L.L. Still you seem to take most of your meals here.
Q.L. Yes, this place has a lot to offer.  There's a lot of nice sleeping spots, windows for checking the yard and when Quynn's in town she even lets me bed down with her occasionally. I've always been a people cat and there are plenty of laps to sit on and compliments. I even enjoy the receptions though I'm always the shortest one there and more than once have gotten stepped on.
L.L. Why do you like them then?
Q.L. The shrimp Jane brings me are excellent and then like I said before I enjoy getting a lot of attention and compliments. If I weren't a cat I'd probably have to be an actor.
L.L. Are there important services that you perform here?
Q.L. Definitely my role as Queen is very important because every Castle needs one. When some woman tries to play that role in a place like this, though, it leads to nothing but cat fights. No, much better a cat, much better me. I also serve an important function in socializing some of the people who come here.  They learn to feel comfortable talking to me and petting me and pretty soon there's no telling whom they might talk to or pet.
L.L. Who are some of your favorite royal subjects around here?
Q.L. Well Lydia and Cyndy always think about my needs and bring me treats even when the building is closed. Terri is pretty good and lets me jump up on the nice soft yarn she uses to make boas. She even made me my own which I wear proudly, as often as possible. Gayle lets me in late when most people aren't here. I already mentioned how fond I am of Quynn and Jane. For a change I enjoy a visit with Jordana in her salon. Of course, everyone enjoys going in there. You, I must say, have been my biggest disappointment.  Too often all I see of you is when you displace me from some piece of art or put me outside.
L.L. So I could do better.  What are your suggestions?
Q.L. Well, I haven't seen too many of those dairy queens lately, your lap could be made more available and who are you to move me anywhere?
L.L. But it's winter.  I'm usually doing work on my lap and you wouldn't want to be trapped inside when we're gone
Q. L. Harrumph
L.L. If this interview turns out well will you feel better about me?
Q.L. Maybe
L. L.  Do you have any goals for the future?
Q. L.  Yes, I feel that my next step is to become famous.
L.L. Why is that?
Q.L. I want a bigger audience and I believe my story will inspire others.
L.L. Do you have any idea how you might get that to happen?
Q.L. Yes, I'm very fortunate Lydia is going to make it happen by writing a book about me and Gayle is going to illustrate it with her beautiful drawings.
L.L. Wow! When is that going to happen?
Q.L. Well, I didn't try to tie them down to any particular date but you know how Lydia is when she says something, it's as good as done. I am so excited!
(Written for the Jan-April 2005 issue)

CREATIVE LOSSES
Some years death takes more from us than others. 2005 was a hungry year.Nationally we lost the voice of a peace seeking generation in Eugene McCarthy.

Locally we lost a community arts leader and idealist, Albert Soto. What I liked best about Albert was that he valued and spoke out for the small, women, and minority arts groups. Though he worked for a governmental agency, Tucson Pima Arts Council, he never stopped being an artist himself and never lost sight of our perspective. When we bought the Castle in 1992 he was the first agency person to visit. Then he actually said something encouraging about the crumbling mess.

Among our own membership we lost Marcia Cole. Though she greeted gallery visitors with a bright smile and beautiful presence, life was a terrible trial for Marcia and she chose to leave. I miss her great cakes, sense of style and gentle spirit.

Jumping species, several members have also lost animal friends. I was most personally affected by the loss of Jacob and Quynn's canine companion, Babe.  Babe's was not a bark and jump on you nature but a quiet, keep the cows at bay presence. She had the jackal look of Anubis and I was amazed to discover that her roots were in the oldest known breed, the Pharaoh dog of Egypt.

These are the losses that come to mind and there's not much good to be said of sorrow, except for one thing. Having the loss means that we also had the opportunity and experience of having known and witnessed the va

7/05 FLOWER FRIENDS   By Linn Lane My friends, you are the blessings, The Goddess has caused you to grow in my garden, And I cannot tell you how grateful I am. Conjuring your names and natures, In desperate dark hours, You give me hope, strength, and courage. Gayle, you are my Sunflower, Long blooming, my lion, my heart, Life's mate and meaning, You are my monster slayer, Banishing fears away. Your smile is the ray of joy, I wait for every day, Here in hospital hell. Nancy is the red Rose, sister to my yellow, Friendship always returning in its season, Thirty-one years of standing with me, Promise keeping and protecting. Robert, you are the Poinsettia man, Growing red and green in impossible times, A rush of quiet empathy, A laugh shared, Critiquing God's so called plan. Quynn, is Daffodil, of course, Symbol of spring's renewal, Yellow color of mind, Being my favorite place to travel.  I cannot wait to be new with you again. And with Jacob, Who is Staff of Wheat, Talker to wind, Source of understanding, As to what we are. Giga, psychic soul reader, Fellow smoke signal seeker, My other oldest friend, You are Tiger Lilly, Whose spots are its beauty, So exotic to others, So unimpressive to yourself, Your compassion, holding my hand here, As it has on the worst occasions, Over the years, Magic stones to protect me now, As your far-seeing has, Over the decades. Kate, loved unreasonably, from the first, Is the white Lilac, that grew so fragrantly, At my Grandmother's home. Kate, new from long past, Singer from the depths, So open with her heart. And Jorge, the Ocotillo, Red stalk of strength, Dancing on desert hill, Man of the people, Master craftsman, I so admire. Karin is the showy red Wild Ginger, Blowing hot life into settled words, Quick to give action and warmth, In plays and in life. Terri, you are a bud of Something Purple, Not yet in bloom, A wild flower full of sound. Little sister, I pray that I will see you blossom. Jordana is Lotus, sacred to Isis, Mother Mary's peace warrior, She who washes our hair and consciousness, With pure light. Jane is the purple Iris, Steady and strong, Blooming in a stream of water, Secluded in her own family struggles, Secluded in Maine  Yet, even there, I lean on her friendship. Kaitlin, you are a new flower to me, A not yet identified Passion Flower, Healer, helper, that so warmly wafted, "Get up on your hind legs and fight." There is no fight in me, But these, your words, And somehow, now, that is enough. For reality, my friends, Has many strands, On which I am swinging back and fourth. Hold the rope for me, While I climb from this restless rocking, Of morphine half sleep, Where the whole room is the cradle, And its swinging too fast. Swinging too fast. But this too shall pass, Shall pass, As I walk my mind, Through your webbed garden of love, For it's a physical thing almost, The caring carried, By your prayers, cards, calls and candles. It is what slows the wheel, holds me, heals me, And I cannot tell you how grateful I am. For those who don't "get " poetry , I'll tell you another way.  I became frightfully ill and ended up at St. Mary's Hospital for eight long days. Previously I always managed to avoid encounters with our medical system. Being there showed me what everyday heroes, nurses and other personnel really are. Still the environment was scary and weird. I became anxious, unable to concentrate or calm my mind.  Only turning my thoughts to friends, family, and the many well-wishers made me feel better. While this poem is about some of the friends I felt closest to, my gratitude extends to all who were so supportive. While some may think cards, candles, gifts, and prayers are only social niceties, I experienced them as a physical lifting up of my spirit and I thank you so much.

lue of their lives.

A WomanKraft family photo: Member Patricia Bowne and her son Rowan. Photo by Kiara Cain.

Linn Lane on Fall 07 Newsletter. Photo by Elena Ray

The Blue Rub The Blue Rub Aesthetics of Consciousness, I hear the wind blow through, Though there is none, In this cozy room. it is from her song, Which is restricted to touch here, but she has already ruined that illusion, Telling me all about it. The nature of her gift has eluded her, Confused her. She alternately brags and apologizes, For its existence. I’m empathetic, Lying there, Wondering which of us is the instrument. “It works on plants.”  She says. “Why not you?” Why not me? There is no reason. L. Lane

MY ARTIST DATE             from summer 07 by Linn Lane  I took my Head, Head, Head, Out for some air, To see some Red, Red, Red, Sunset Red.  Yeah!  I took my Head, Head, Head, Out for some air,  To paint some Green, Green, Green, Into my Scene. Yeah!  I took my Head, Head, Head, And fed it Gold, Gold, Gold, Desert Marigold. Yeah!  I took my Head, Head, Head, Out for some night. Dressed it with Cactus Lace, And Black , Black, Space.  Yeah!

Ahhh, spring. The succulents are a riot of flower-power. Bendire Thrashers and Northern Mockingbirds sing the dawn unto day. In the afternoon, the little space on my back where my shirt rides up sticks to my hot car seat (although at my age that is feeling pretty good). Early evenings in my neighborhood, you can smell cut hay and hot coals, maybe hear some faint strains of authentic Mexican music. The big black cow bellows from acres away north. It is almost easy to forget: Spring is a time of violent change for me. I await each one in dread, especially now what with all the climate change. You’d think I, more than anyone, would have some idea of what is going to happen!

Watch out humans! Like me, you may have to take a look at some old-cold winter ideas and reassess. I empathize. You may soon have to "realign your design". I know. You may be asked to "experience an experience" and then try to find a way to assimilate it that won’t completely wreck your idea of "the world". You may have a violent climate-change happen to you! I've been there, done that! Cataclysmically! Recently!

Here, let me tell you about it:

In this incarnation as M.E., I have a fine human husband. Let us call him “Husband” in this story, as I do often enough in a loving manner here in your world. He is a man who looks at the Sun through the telescopes at an Arizona observatory, so he’s a-way up high amongst the clouds, a fine place to be. The Tohono O’Odham people call him “a man with long eyes”. That is their translation for an astronomer.

With long desert days, he needs to be up very early to catch the sun, and so spends the night in the observatory quarters. (And, I gotta tell ya, the Iris bulbs up there on the mountain have created prolific purple fountains of beauty, if I say so myself.)

One fine spring day, not too long ago, Husband came home from a hard day of looking at the sun and taking data, to his quarters on the mountain, and immediately smelled burning olive oil on the stove. Before he could run to the kitchen to see if he left the stove on, he was confronted by an unknown and disheveled man coming towards him from the bedroom hall! No time to ask questions! It was an Altercation! To say the least! Jimmy Dean Frozen Sausage Biscuits were deep-fried! And eaten!

The man grabbed a package of tortillas and ran away as Husband called the Authorities (and turned off the stove). My first thought upon hearing all this was “Great Goddess! The man walked up a 7000 foot mountain! He deserved much more than a deep-fried frozen biscuit! I will have to stock the freezer better”.

However, the plot thickened. There are not many places to hide up on the mountain. Husband went looking for the missing man, and, in the maintenance yard found “KPC". Now, KPC is a fine tuxedo cat-man who craves human contact. And so, when Husband saw KPC in an isolated area, he knew “what was what“. Truly, KPC was a cat-hero; the biscuit-man was hiding in a tool shed.

The biscuit-man was taken into custody. Scratched up and a little bloody with torn clothes, he was reportedly rude and dismissive. He sneered at food offered, and while lying on the employee lounge couch watching television with the remote in hand, he began to sing, and, it was said, "not very well". At one point, he even mocked Husband. This is not an action I would recommend.

Indeed, the Authorities eventually arrived, frisked him and in his possession were a camera, lenses and electronic equipment belonging to another astronomer (missing said items). The Authority Agent remarked, shaking his head in sorrow, “They say these people are just here to find work". Clearly, there was no sympathy at this point on my beautiful 7000 foot mountain.

The arrested man said he had been separated from a group of people, and they were "out there." They were found soon enough at 4000 feet, as they started a fire to stay warm. Westward winds quickly fed the flames, and at 6 raging acres, the airstrike of pink slurry arrived. Husband called me, watching the amazing sight of the airplane 100 feet above him. He also mentioned they were on "standby for evacuation". Have you ever had anyone say that to you? “We are on "standby for evacuation". Horrors!

Now, you are probably saying, "Jeesh, what a story, wonder what happens next?

Well, the fire was put out. No evacuation was necessary. The biscuit-man was a "coyote": a human smuggler. He had been violently ejected from the group of folks he left on the mountain. Everyone was apprehended and presumably deported. Humans did what humans do, to each other, in this instance, from beginning to end.

End of story, right? Well, no. It’s not the end. It’s barely the beginning!

You can call them whatever you want to, immigrants, illegals, refugees, migrant workers, but from my perspective, I just call you all "humans". And I would like to remind you that in all the diversity of humanity, there is one thing that you all have in common:

You have to share the planet.

Keeping in mind my humble place on the earth in this incarnation, I respectfully suggest that for those of us with that luxury of mass communication, the real issue should be Earth. You know? The planet we live on?

Border issues are only a symptom of this larger problem. If you don’t want “them” here, what will it take before you computerized, televised, media-wise humans create true policy changes that allow people a living in other nearby lands with clean water, sustainable living, free of your governments’ political and financially devastating influence? As a matter of fact, since you are so perky, how about working for clean water, air and food within your own country?

Really, it is a beautiful day out there, and I have other things to do. I see there are about 3 dozen quail out by the birdfeeder. I need to go watch, and listen and breathe. So...I leave the human problems to you humans. But take heed... there are a million "causes" humans could support with time and money. I often chuckle at you: what is more important than the air you breathe, the water you drink, and the food you eat?

Of all of my creatures, it is only you that possess the power of planetary stewardship. And you want to prattle forever on, about imaginary lines; border issues? That is insane!

My favorite definition of human insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. But, you don't have to be insane. Do something different!

You could instead, oh I dunno…compost. Listen. Grow. Assess. Sing. Recycle. Harvest. Laugh. Create. Educate. Inspire. Ask. Inform. Empathize. Heal the planet and heal yourselves.

Honestly, I could use the help!

Love,
Mother Earth
xoxoxo

(Who would have thought that Mother Earth herself would have incarnated as a WomanKraft member!?!)

INTERVIEW WITH FERN BARBER   By Linn Lane Fern L. Barber was born in the small town of Virginia, Minnesota on the 18th of October 1921.  By 4 she was already enamored by the joys of paper and scribbling.  She did it because her Dad did it and left supplies around. Also art making provided sanctuary from the rock throwing neighborhood boys. Fern’s Dad again played a role in growing an artist when Fern was in high school.  The mechanics instructor came to Fern’s Dad’s car repair shop and noticed a picture she had done of her Dad. He showed it to the new art teacher and Fern gained a mentor.  Eventually, this teacher was instrumental in getting Fern 5 years of scholarships to the Minneapolis School of Art. While there she met Bob Barber.  “First, I noticed this foot swinging in front of me,” Fern recalls. She saw him again buying art supplies but never said a word. About her Bob declares,” Oh, she was the cutest girl in the whole school.” After they managed to somehow have a conversation they had a marriage. When Fern received her Art Certificate she got a job as an illustrator for Mime Magazine.  Bob got a Masters of Fine Arts and became an art professor. About how he’s influenced her work Fern says, “He’s helped me more than any teacher.” Besides the visual arts Fern’s other passion is Dance.  For a time she was part of the Merriam Sage Dance Company in New York City. Later she was with the modern dancer Gertrude Lippencott. Then there were children. On November 2nd, 1951 Brian and on December 13th, 1953 Leigh Ann.  “While they were babies I don’t think I did a bit of art work.”  Fern recollects.  Bob disagrees with this assessment, “Oh, you were always doing something.” Whether or not she did any visual art in their early lives Fern admits she soon had those babies in ballet. They performed in Mitrovich Ballet Company where Fern did a lot of design and costume work. In 1956 the family moved from Illinois to Tucson.  Once the children were in school, Fern took art classes at Pima Community College and drew a lot of models at the university of Arizona studios. A particular favorite of hers was Darla Masterson’s print making classes, which she “loved”. The changes she’s seen for women artists over the years has been “ tremendous”. Ferns says,  “ they finally know our names and invite us to shows.” She was around when the University of Arizona Art Department forced their only female professor, the now famous Peggy Dugan, to get a whole other degree before they would give her tenure. The Barber children both grew up as dancers. They remain so, though they have passed the age of most public performance.  Leigh Ann’s ballet credits are extensive.  She continues to enjoy classes and is the office manager of A.I.R.C.O. locally. Brian does a lot of social dancing enjoying, western, swing, tango and salsa.  He’s also an avid art collector and particularly likes the ethnic arts. He is an engineer in Santa Rosa, California. What Fern most likes to do in her life now is make art and go with Bob to art receptions. “Of all the galleries in Tucson” she says, “WomanKraft has been nicest to me.” And the Barbers are both among our loyalist members. When I ask what she believes means the most in life she looks adoringly over at Bob and says “ Oh…60 years of marriage, family, and the ability to be able to continue to scribble.” Both Fern and Bob continue to show work at various galleries around town, frequently at WomanKraft and also at Solar Culture and Dinnerware to name a few others.

So now it is the end of 2007.  We are deeper into the war, more veterans are returning home and experiencing aspects of PTSD and beginning to admit it.  Each month my book is getting into the hands of a growing number of vets and their families, and it seems to be helping them.  Just today, I talked to a chaplain in a southern state who told me they are giving copies of “Accepting the Ashes” to their veterans who are trying their best to heal their minds, bodies and families.  I know that “healing” from PTSD is a life-long experience, and I know that writing this book has helped me heal myself, and my understanding of my father. I am honored to hear how my father’s story is offering some kind of solace to others so horribly touched by war, again.

To read or listen to “Accepting the Ashes” you can find it at the WomanKraft gallery,
or at www.acceptingtheashes.net , where you can also find a link to listen to a 10 minute audio version for free.

World Water Day Video Shoot March 22 is World Water Day, Calling Attention to water scarcity on Earth The Digital Arts Studio has decided to create a short video honoring the River with No Water, The Santa Cruz River. HUMANS AS FISH, HUMANS AS FROGS, HUMANS AS NATURE! On Thursday, March 20 Quynn and Jacob will host a video shoot at the Santa Cruz at 22nd between 3pm and Sunset. The video will be uploaded to YouTube on March 22 for all to see Tucson’s beautiful, yet waterless, riverbed.  Imagine-Video as Digital Ritual! We need volunteers to act as fish, insects, animals and plants. To prepare for said video making, we will be hosting three costume/mask making sessions upstairs in Quynn’s room. Sundays- February 17, March 2 and March 16   Noon-3pm Come to one or all with an idea, and raw materials if you have them. We have fabric, paints and other doodads. Call Quynn at 954-2004 for more information.

YOU CAN WATCH THE VIDEO WE MADE!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=shf5UQZ3mqc

Hannah Blue Heron, and her partner Margaret at Hannah’s recent reading from her new book “Self Portraits in the Nude”

In May, Donette Tyrrell, Jane Macomber, Quynn Elizabeth and Jacob Prehler patched, painted and mural-ed Studio 102. Lovely!