What happened to these people, the Mimbres, who created such dramatic and elegant pottery? 

Emerging from the Mongollon culture, they were a later version of that group which lived around the Mongollan Mountains in Arizona and New Mexico from about AD 200-1450.  If I am correct, the Mimbres peoples lived toward the end of that period (1050-1200 or so). 

Eventually, it appears that they  abandoned their homes and cultural centers for unknown reasons.  Just walked away, probably dispersing into other groups or other areas of the country. 

Who were they and where did they go--and why?  So far, we have no answers to these questions.  They leave us their inspired, graphic, dramatic pottery, from which this tile is drawn.  Here we have the fish, the deer, the turtle, and the caterpillar, all very precious and symbolic to them.  We have the four directions, a stylized sun, some stylized feathers.  While we can say something about what modern generations of Native/Indigenous Peoples would say about these symbols, we can only guess at the full extent of what they mean to people from this era.  It's a definitely a mystery. 

Only their art speaks to us about who they were.

To a Mimbres Woman
by Marty Eberhardt

I see your thousand-year-old thumb print
On the plain brown potsherd.
My own thumb fits perfectly
In the curve you left.
Other more elegant pottery bits
Lie among rocks and junipers
On this hill of dry grasses.
Red-on-white interwoven geometry, 
A tasseled quail,
Designs fine as any
In the art galleries of the town. 
But it is this plain brown piece that draws me.
My thumb seeks the curved place, again.
I see you forming the pot 
From coils of clay,
You look out over fields of corn and beans 
In the valley below.
Then, as now, a red-tailed hawk dips,
A horned lizard scurries under a stone
That forms the village wall.
Beyond the fields
Green cottonwoods mark the river  
Between jagged hills.
The wind shakes their leaves like a gourd rattle.
In the quiet between gusts,
The river rushes below, monsoon-strong.
It is in these wild places,
Where our thumbs
Feel the curve of another’s hand,
Places free from cement, neon, asphalt, smog,
And deadened water,
Across years, 
Across cultures and countries,
Beyond all reason,
We find each other.

Yes, I'm now officially addicted to this tangle with its deeply graphic qualities.  I added some blue and gold rings in chalk pencil when I was finished, the colors of Ukraine, since the tangle is derived from Ukranian folk art (see yesterday's post).

My first try at a new tangle called Kivka, from Jo Quincy, CZT (Zenjo).  She just offered her second fundraising class for Ukraine.  As a result, this time she'll be donating around $3000 to UNICEF for Ukranian aid and relief, based on participants' donations.  In her first class she raised somewhere around $2500 I believe.  What a lesson in how one person can make a difference.

"Kivka" is named for Petrykivka, which is both a small village in Ukraine (southeast of Kiev) and also the home of a style of painting called Petrykivka, a folk art of great beauty.  I plan to work more with this tangle and make further donations when I can for relief there.

The new dawn blooms
as we free it.
For there is always Light,
if only we're brave
enough to see it.
If only we're brave
enough to be it.
  --Amanda Gorman

Here is another version of work I did in a class with Shie Naritomi, CZT.  What a wonderful teacher.  See my comments from yesterday on the background of this work.

As one person, I cannot bring peace to Ukraine.  I cannot restore what they have lost:  lives, livelihoods, homes, family, and peace of mind.  No one person can do this alone.

But I can join with others to protest, to support.  And I can take the time to sit quietly and calm myself, so that I make wiser decisions when I protest or when I support. 

Drawing and meditation both do that for me.  So does drawing AS meditation.  The more peace and compassion I can develop within myself, the more peace and compassion I can bring into the world.  Perhaps only in small ways, but if each of us were able to do this, it would be powerful.

So I have taken the time to draw this afternoon, breathing deeply and working line by line, one line at a time.  It is calming.  It gives me courage to watch the news tonight.  Again.  To witness the inhumanity.  Again.  It gives me courage to keep protesting, to keep supporting, to keep loving, despite it all. 

While working on a different project (punch needle embroidery) I had a minor textile collapse when the foundation fabric shredded all the way through.  Eeeeek!  Although I knew what I had to do--patch it--I have been putting it off for days.  I've never had to patch anything before and it was intimidating.

This morning, after a bit of tangling and a lot of meditation, I took on the task and as with many intimidating things, in actual practice it was easier than I thought.  And I learned a lot.

Things I Learned:
No need to draw on the patch first, or to pin it in place.  It can be done by "feel."  I did lengthen the loop length by 1 (went up from a 2 to a 3).  Go slowly, be prepared to back up a bit if needed.  Check how it looks on the other side frequently.  Afterwards, be ready to clean up well, and trim off the extra.  Here are the steps (sorry I didn't take a "before" picture).  Imagine a blank spot with no punching and holes in the fabric where the patch now sits:

Well of course as I was patching this up I was thinking of all the times I've screwed up in other life issues and had to try to make repairs.  Oftentimes it's been quite successful.  Occasionally, not. 

Don't we all have to patch things up in relationships from time to time?  Seems like the guidelines are the same:  You cannot plan everything perfectly in advance, although you have to think things through.  Then, you have to do it by "feel," going slowly and being prepared to back up occasionally.  Checking frequently with the other person to see how it's going, and if it's successful (not always or immediately guaranteed), cleaning up afterwards by following through.  Finally, it really helps to learn from our mistakes by analyzing what worked well and what we could have done differently.

If only we as humans could get better at patching things up.  Especially in this very messy scary world right now.  Someone once said, "Life is the art of drawing without an eraser."  And yet--even with no eraser--it is often possible to keep going and turn a mess into an eventual triumph.  Let us hope we can do that in the current situation.  May we all treat each other with respect, compassion, and generosity.

Since I am on another map tangling kick, I am thinking about borders and boundaries and what happens when they are disrespected.  My heart is with all the people of Ukraine, and extends to all the other wars going on all over the planet at this moment.

“I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.”
― Albert Einstein

A quick leftover tile from yesterday's session.

“Light is a thing that cannot be reproduced, but must be represented by something else – by color.”  --Cezanne

Watercolors:  Sooooo tricky to use.  But I love them.

Did this today as part of a fundraiser to send aid to Ukraine.  There is so little we can do as individuals, but together we raised a considerable sum to help those under siege.  The phenomenal Jo Quincy from Wales in the UK organized this (Zenjo).  Thanks, Jo.

Yesterday and today I have been experimenting with using a 9-pointed star as a string for tangling.  Below is my first attempt, done with Tomomi Galliano, CZT of the Pebbles and Drops website..  And underneath that is today's try.  I like this 9-pointed mandala a lot.  Nevertheless, first tries are just that:  first tries.  I can only get better with practice, eh? 

I posted my first try at this tile two days ago here.  Today I was wanting to make a card to accompany a gift certificate for a friend and decided to use the same tile design.  I'm pleased with this and hope the recipient likes it.  I made some minor changes in the design.

See an earlier stage of this project below:

Just getting started on the coloring, after creating most but not all of the linework.

"Tenacious practice, practice, practice is crucial for excellence; rote repetition is underrated in America."
(Amy Chua)

That's one reason I don't mind doing the same thing several times over.  I know I learn best that way.

Can you get more simple than this?  I don't think so.  This must be the equivalent of doing musical scales each day.

I'm using Bijou tiles here (only 2" square) to practice one basic tangle a day.  Except I'm way behind and these each only take a few minutes to do, so I've been doing about 2-4 tiles a day to catch up.  This is part of a 365 tangle challenge, and I appreciate that the intention is to keep it very simple each day all year.

Good advice, whether in drawing or in meditation.  Practice-practice-practice is one great first tip, and the next:  don't over-complicate things.  Review the basics frequently.  Take time to breathe.  No need to rush or push.  All of these things are true for both art and true in meditation.  Art and meditation are deeply interconnected, in my view.

This mandala was easy to draw this morning because one of the talented artists I'd taken a class with some time ago, Annie Taylor of the Arty Zen website, emailed a private video free to all her former students as a thanks.  It was a how-to of this piece, so I gave it a try.  Very fun. 

You can see the progression above, from the linework through the finished piece.  I like this mandala pattern and can see using it for other things.  Will be trying it again.  Thank you, Annie.  It's always wonderful to get a surprise gift.

And as I'm catching up on my back-to-basics 365 Tangle challenge, here are a few more super-basic tangles from early January.  The wind is howling outdoors; how lovely to stay inside and draw.

This is really back to basics.  There's an art challenge going on that focuses on just one tangle each day in January.  Really basic.  No pressure.  Of course I didn't get started on time but it'll be easy to catch up.  Each tile is only 2" square.  We began with some of the first tangles any beginner learns.  A fun and stress-less project which will continue all year. 

When I look back at my early start with Zentangle®, I remember that there were only about 106 "official" tangles at the time.  Unbelievable.  Of course as soon as Rick & Maria began teaching, all their students were encouraged to come up with their own tangles, and everyone did so with a vengeance.  Now there are thousands of them.  And none, not one, are originals, because humans have been drawing patterns since the Dawn of Time, and so everything we use has been "invented" many times before.  The only difference is that R&M named each tangle and created easy 6-steps-or-less instructions for each one so that anyone anywhere could learn to do this.  And the rest is history.

Meanwhile, this (below) is the reason I've hardly been tangling.  I've been working on this rug (photo is a peep at a corner of it) but ran out of a couple of spot-dyed colors and have to wait about two more weeks to get just a teensy bit more of the fabric or the border will end up not matching.  And I was on a roll!  But not paying attention to my stash.  Live and learn.

There are so many surprises in life.  This was certainly one of them. 

Zentangle® can be counted on for providing surprises on a regular basis.  You never know where you're going to end up once you begin.

After yesterday's post I thought I would try another mandala but this time I would attempt to place the more complicated Punzel tangle in the round.

Success!  However, I ended up with something that reminds me of Brutalist-style architecture, my least favorite style of all time. 

You could say this got the job done, but although I technically succeeded I'm not in love.

Which leads me to wonder:  what would this look like if I ran it through an iPhone app?  Let's see:

In part of Mary Oliver's Poem, "The Turtle," she says:

...Crawling up the high hill,
luminous under the sand that has packed against her skin,
she doesn’t dream
she knows
she is a part of the pond she lives in,
the tall trees are her children,
the birds that swim above her
are tied to her by an unbreakable string.


For the entire lovely poem, see New and Selected Poems: Volume One (Beacon Press) or go here.

I think I like the iPhone variations better than the original in this case.

The temperature was zero Farenheit when I woke up and this afternoon has reached a blazing 11° F (that would be MINUS 11.6°Centigrade, correct?).  I've been basking in the warmth by drawing a blue and black zendala that captures the winter colors. 

Wind outside is howling, and howled all through last night. 

Daylight is fading.  Snow is on the way. 

Hot cocoa, anyone?

White-Eyes
By Mary Oliver

In winter
    all the singing is in
         the tops of the trees
             where the wind-bird

with its white eyes
    shoves and pushes
         among the branches.
             Like any of us

he wants to go to sleep,
    but he's restless--
         he has an idea,
             and slowly it unfolds

from under his beating wings
    as long as he stays awake.
         But his big, round music, after all,
             is too breathy to last.

So, it's over.
    In the pine-crown
         he makes his nest,
             he's done all he can.

I don't know the name of this bird,
    I only imagine his glittering beak
         tucked in a white wing
             while the clouds--

which he has summoned
    from the north--
         which he has taught
             to be mild, and silent--

thicken, and begin to fall
    into the world below
         like stars, or the feathers
               of some unimaginable bird

that loves us,
    that is asleep now, and silent--
         that has turned itself
             into snow.

Holy cow, this was a hard photo to take!  Two of the mandalas would look great, the third would almost disappear; I'd try again, another two would look great and the other third would disappear.  I was gnashing my teeth.  This is the best I could do.

This is part of a series of moon phase pieces.  I have moon phases on the brain right now.  I am hooking moons into my latest rug, and also working on these drawings which I began in late 2020.

My heart is like the autumn moon
perfectly bright in the deep green pool
nothing can compare with it
you tell me how it can be explained
--Han-Shan

Got up this morning thinking I'd do something on the back of that bookmark from the last post.  I had dropped some watercolor on the back and was not best pleased when I noticed how the paper crinkled and--even after being flattened under some heavy books--wouldn't straighten out. 

So I set to work this morning intending to practice my Punzel tangle some more.  Only--

I got distracted.

Um, really distracted.

So what you see here isn't even close to Punzel.  Oops.  When I realized how I'd messed it up, I thought about throwing out the entire thing.  But I like the other side, so in the spirit of Zentangle®, ("There are no mistakes"), I kept going.

Result:  Looks like a cobra laying eggs in a flowerpatch, right?  Or might it be peas ripening in some type of excessively weird peapod?

Whatever.  I like it anyway.  (How many times do I find myself writing, "I like it anyway" on here?  But it's always true.

Time to go get this bookmark laminated, now that both sides are done.

I think this is the start of a bookmark.  I'll see where it takes me.

Perhaps it will go no farther.  I'll let it sit a bit.

But then I realized that it's my neighbor's birthday tomorrow, and since she is one of my favorite people in the world, I quickly made her a narrower version of the above bookmark and will bring it over with a card for her.

Nope, I haven't abandoned the blog, even though it must look like it.  It's a temporary lapse caused by necessary work on an external project, as well as the fact that I've been working hard on a hand-hooked rug.  Then add in a dash of generalized holiday madness.  Even though I don't celebrate the holidays, everyone around me does and it certainly causes madness!

Result:  I haven't put my pen on paper to draw in a month.  And wow, have I missed it.

So here you have me starting over.  This is a piece-in-progress, one that I began last night.  It's not even half-done yet.  We'll see where it goes.

I treated myself to a new t-shirt and I love it.

Last, here is a sneak preview of an upcoming rug I'm working on.  This is what has really been taking up most of my time.  This and doing a lot of reading (see the t-shirt above), along with some teaching.

All in all a very busy end to this year.  Wonderful.  And now, I hope to get back to drawing in 2022.

After watching my friend Jo Quincy, CZT, create a Mooka-Tipple combination tile, I thought I'd have a go.  I've done this tile before but not for ages.  Jo has damaged a finger on her dominant hand very badly and has been tangling with her non-dominant hand and producing work as gorgeous as if she was using the dominant one--she is really amazing.  (NOTE:  I used my dominant hand to do this one and it's not half as good as hers, done with her "wrong" hand.)

I tangled with a blue Micron 05 over a pre-prepped watercolored Zendala--on the left.  And then tarted up the piece with some watercolor pencils and gold gellyroll, on the right above.  Which one do I prefer?  Don't know.  My tile is totally inspired by Jo's piece, but of course it came out differently as tangling is like handwriting.  Hers is much more subtle.  To see hers, go HERE.  And as you watch, be aware she's using her "wrong hand."  Amazing!

Imitation is indeed the sincerest form of flattery.

Finally, I had to play with them on my iPhone apps and producted these 2 versions:

Playing with "special effects" is always fascinating, especially any shift in color.  Knowing that we don't always see color the same way makes this even more intriguing.  Which version(s) do you prefer?

Continuing with zenAgain21:  Here's a Dali-inspired tile.  Mine looked quite different from those done by others (they were better at listening to the directions).

I know, scary stuff, huh?

"When we are asleep in this world, we are awake in another."  - Dali

He's not one of my favorite artists, but this was a fun idea to experiment with.

This was done with brown and black microns, graphite, watercolor pencils and white chalk pencil with a touch of white gellyroll on a 3.5" white tile.

Somewhere during the four days, we worked on an Opus tile (10 inches square).  I have plans to re-do this one, since I liked the idea but felt a bit too rushed during the execution.  It was fun though.

I have a few other things to finish or re-do, so that's it for now.  What an opportunity.  To be tangling for four days straight was just wonderful.  And exhausting.  As Molly Hollibaugh says, "Drawing is a physical act."  True!

Sometimes tired old things just need to be dressed up a bit to shine. 

Cue the comments on whether that's true for all of us!  I'm talking about things.  Ha.

This morning I found a gray tile that I'd tossed some lavender-ish watercolor on long ago, in an early attempt to map-tangle.  The color had spread out over most of the tile, with absolutely no interesting shape, and was incredibly plain.  BO-ring. 

Out came more watercolors today and I tarted it up, used my heat gun to dry it, and went to town with some of the Inktober tangles.  Better.  Every tangle except one was brand new for me.  Some of them turned out more successfully than others, so I'll re-do the ones that really didn't have enough room to show themselves off.  Perhaps that'll be the task for tomorrow.

This is what happens when I run out of black Micron 01s and still want to tangle.  Spynes, which I tried for the first time yesterday, is a really fun tangle for experimentation--I couldn't resist this second try.

The Stone House Runner is nearly done; just the usual finishing steps left.  Here it is: