SUZANNE MCDERMOTT
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What matters are tomatoes.

8/7/2017

 
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Let's get our priorities straight.

Our government and much of the world seems to be in utter chaos if we take the major news outlets as our source of information.

But if I move away from the computer or radio and tv news and look around my rooms, there are so many more interesting and wonderful things to behold, to read, to make beautiful things with.

If I step out my door and bump into neighbors (and often, their dogs), happy transactions (and often, lickie licky? kisses) await.

A few steps more around the corner and I find my fabulous garden, exhausted from the heat but still bringing forth peppers, collards, leeks, herbs and, yes, tomatoes!

I just read an essay by Garrison Keillor and the line that jumped out at me was "What matters are tomatoes". Well, I thought, that's it.
​
And it's true.

It's difficult to think anything but pleasant thoughts while eating a homegrown tomato.
​
--Lewis Grizzard

Happy full moon. Think pleasant thoughts. Enjoy your tomatoes.

20th anniversary

6/6/2017

 
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This week, it's just a quick note.

With the start of the recent Basic Drawing class that I teach for the city of Raleigh, I've celebrated my 20th year anniversary of teaching drawing and watercolor. Had to share!

Little did I know when I created those morning and afternoon drawing and watercolor workshops for guests at the Kiawah Island Resort in South Carolina that two decades later, I'd still be at it.  In a big way.

These week after week city classes have given me opportunities to serve while growing my method and developing new courses. I have to thank the city and all the students—not only the great successes but also those who've challenged me and made me a better teacher.  I am so looking forward to bringing my teaching back online. 

And I must not forget to include thanks to my best drawing and painting teacher ever, Ronn Davis, and best art history teacher, Jim Urmston. Both at Santa Monica College where I studied so many moons ago when, as Jim put it a few years back, "all things seemed possible". 

Minus a few absentees, the above shots are a peek at my 20th anniversary classes.

The growing season

5/29/2017

 
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“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” ― Anaïs Nin
The garden is coming along.

I can't get the ever-expanding plots all in to one shot so the above photo is a detail of Russian kale that's been keeping me in greens all winter, flowering zucchini, dill, beets, leeks, tomatoes, vinca, lavender, anise hyssop, scabiosa and some native plant in violet bloom that a neighbor gave me last spring. There's more, much more... but you get the idea.

This time last year I started with discarded heirloom tomato seedlings in old recycling bins. I knew little about growing vegetables and still have a lot to learn but I can say that about almost anything. 

Along with the garden, I've been growing new drawing and watercolor studio classes in art history. These have evolved since January in dramatic and exciting ways. Dramatic because of the phenomenal results of student work. Exciting because, well, anytime we create brand new things there's always a learning curve, obstacles, the unexpected (no matter how well we prepare), and uncertainty. 

The entire series of three courses is not quite complete but I've jumped the main hurdles and they'll be ready in an online format by end of summer. I have to say that I have worked my butt off putting these together and yet have loved (not always enjoyed but loved) the process.

All the time I thought I'd have to write blog posts has been diverted to developing these courses. Which is fine! It's just that when I put down one discipline for the sake of another, it does take some time and serious effort to start up the disciplines I had to put aside for a while. 

Writing is the worst, I think. It's always been a challenge for me to chain myself to a seat and to focus on writing. By which I mean...actually writing. Fortunately, I know that I am not alone. The only way to write is to write and so, here I am. Writing. 

After procrastinating (not really, I had so many other important things to do today!), I decided that it was not at all important for this post to be perfect or about anything important. All I had to do was to write something. 

Something.

So here it is. It's a seed for getting me back into my regular blogging. I like the discipline. It's just a matter of doing it. 
“It's hell writing and it's hell not writing. The only tolerable state is having just written.” 
― Robert Hass
One of the books on my bathroom shelf is a collection of essays by Peter Mayle called Acquired Tastes. My favorite essay in that book is The Writing Habit. Every time I need a belly laugh at my life or to feel in good company, I re-read it.

Tomorrow, I start two new live groups of basic drawing students. 20 years ago today, more or less, I taught my first group of basic drawing students down on Kiawah Island at the Resort's Nature Center. Little did I know then that I was embarking on a career of doing so. 

Okay. That's it till next week. ​

How to Ground Yourself

2/28/2017

 
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Get dirty and grow something 

On Sunday, I made a list of Things To Do.

It was the New Moon in Pisces. An eclipse, too, with lots of strong and rare configurations in our solar system. While the new moon is traditionally a good time for new intentions, this particular set up begged us to slow down and pay attention. 

Winter has all but disappeared in my part of the world. It was a cool morning but sunny so I decided to spend a little time repotting a few plants. Then I carried out all of the plants I overwinter inside. One thing led to another and I cleaned and clipped and rooted and repotted geraniums, begonias, my sprouting fig twig and the first avocado tree I've ever managed to grow from a pit. 

When the work was complete and the plants were all watered, enjoying their outing, I looked at the time and it was late afternoon. How did that happen? Where did the day go?

Gardening was not on the morning list I made, and yet, that's what I did. So, that's what I was meant to do and when I brought all of the plants in and set them on clean windowsills, I was pleased. Still, the time I'd set aside to work was gone. Oh, well. Can't get it back.

That being said, playing in the dirt with plants was probably the best way to weather the Mars (War)/Uranus (Chaos) conjunction, just one of the heavenly configurations of the day. I surrendered to my intuition and threw myself wholeheartedly into the the earth and green life so that I did not notice time passing.

Mars and Uranus. War and Chaos. Sound familiar? If you're awake or just waking up now, I recommend that you do everything you can think of to ground yourself. If you're well-grounded, you're more likely to be able to respond to rather than resist whatever comes your way and that will do you and the rest of the planet a world of good.

Every moment and every event of every man's life on earth plants something in his soul.
​—Thomas Merton


A few ways to ground yourself

  • Get plenty of rest. That includes sleep.
  • Go out in nature and walk.
  • Garden. Indoors or out. If you don't have plants, visit a nature or garden center and wander around.
  • Turn off all of your electronics and devices.
  • Sit still and focus on your breath. In. Out. Slow it down.
  • Stretch your body in any way you can. It will help you remember that you're a living, breathing being in a body on Earth, not an incessant, cascading array of thoughts. Also, it feels pretty good.
  • Apply a good essential oil of a tree to the soles of your feet then massage what's left at the back of your neck. Inhale what's left on the palms of your hands. 

Good essential oils for grounding yourself:

White Fir
Frankincense
Melaleuca
(Tea Tree)

Each of these oils has a unique grounding expression but my go-to grounding blend is dōTERRA's
Balance (with Frankincense, Spruce, Ho Wood, Blue Tansy Flower and Blue Chamomile). I use this on the bottom of my feet every morning before donning my socks and shoes to leave the house. 

Essential oils are literally the quintessence, the energetic vibration of plants. They're the aromatic compounds each plant uses to protect and heal itself. They're also nature's gift to us, to help us protect and heal ourselves.

If you're interested in learning more about how these essential oils can help you with self-care, please email me. We can set up a one-on-one call plus, I'll be hosting an online class in the next month or so if you'd like to be notified of online classes for self-care with essential oils, sign up here.

On the last day of the world
I would want to plant a tree

​
—W.S. Merwin, from Place, The Rain in the Trees

One day later... My baby avocado tree is in shock. I have to admit that I struggled to set it upright and in my zest was not thinking about the tender roots. Lesson learned. Poor thing. Well, I have a jar of sugar water to nurse it and, with luck, that will help it readjust and keep growing. The baby fig tree seems happy so that's something. 
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​What are you doing to ground yourself and feed your soul?

To my fellow swimmers

11/29/2016

 
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I love the water. 

Whether I am by the ocean, at a lake or near a pool, I will make every opportunity to swim along the shore, across the pond or lake, or do laps, back and forth, back and forth. I am part fish. 

This morning, a couple of hours into a day surrounded by dozens of leaf blowers and mulching machines, and god know what other noise makers, I fled my property to the local Y and pounded out lap after lap.

I wanted to stay at home and do the work that I’d planned but I had to let go of that idea. While swimming, I was reminded of the statement released by the Hopi Elders in 2001.

Now that I've found and re-read the statement, I am posting this again. Because… with my schedule thrown off, with the heinous, incessant noise (a huge trigger for me), after spending so much time trying to counteract the noise with earplugs, leaving the property, trying to settle elsewhere, I was a miserable human being. I was miserable to myself and to my fellow swimmers and locker roommates this morning. Well, not miserable exactly, but not very friendly. I was not feeling good about anything, the state of the world, anyone else, myself. Furthermore, I was turned around, confused, worried about falling behind.

But in these words, I’ve found solace, wisdom, comfort, course correction. The answers and instruction is all right here. The whole thing is relevant and helpful but, on a personal level, these two lines stand out for me today:

“At this time in history, we are to take nothing personally, least of all ourselves. 
For the moment that we do, our spiritual growth and journey come to a halt.”


Here it is in toto--

To My Fellow Swimmers 

You have been telling people that this is the Eleventh Hour. 
Now you must go back and tell the people that this is the Hour. 
And these are things to be considered…

Where are you living? 
What are you doing? 
What are your relationships? 
Are you in right relation? 
Where is your water? 
Know your garden.

It is time to speak your truth. 
Create your community. 
Be good to each other. 
And do not look outside yourself for your leader.

This could be a good time! 

There is a river flowing now very fast. 
It is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid. 
They will try to hold on to the shore. 
They will feel they are being torn apart and will suffer greatly. 
Know the river has its destination.

The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river, 
keep our eyes open, and our heads above the water.

See who is in there with you and celebrate. 

At this time in history, we are to take nothing personally, least of all ourselves. 
For the moment that we do, our spiritual growth and journey come to a halt.

The time of the lone wolf is over. 
Gather yourselves!

Banish the word ’struggle’ from your attitude and your vocabulary. 
All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration. 

We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. 

—Statement of The Elders, Oraibi, Arizona Hopi Nation, 2001

Life imitates art

10/31/2016

 

It's been a delicious year.

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I swear to god, if I wait any longer to start this blog and write this post, I'm going to pop! Every time I intend to restart my blogging life, my online writing and posting, my whatever this is I'm trying to express, something comes up and offers interference. I have succumbed to that interference so far but no longer.

One week ago, shy one hour, I was rear-ended by a distracted 22-year old and my life turned into smashed cars, pain and suffering and doctors visits and hours on the phone with insurance agents and arranging for and picking up rental cars and adjusting to new circumstances and intending that all of this interruption and challenge is a blessing in disguise. Yes, this is a blessing in disguise although I'll only recognize the blessing in retrospect.

That's how life works. The strikes and folds, the bends and curves of whoa! this roller coaster our souls have bought a ticket to.

But moving back a bit, had I not been rear ended while waiting patiently with my brake lights and turn signals on, with my spirit uplifted and motivation intact, I would have started this a week ago. But, to be honest, there have been interruptions of different sorts arising for months that I've allowed to hold me back.

If I'd moved through any or all of those interruptions, I would have said, I started this year in the throes of an illustration project for which I was also hired and charged with designing the book and managing the project—an illustration project of 60 fruits and vegetables. It was a mighty task and I loved it—the challenges and victories alike.

Here's a glimpse of what the end product looks like:
"Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life."
~Oscar Wilde, 'The Decay of Lying: An Observation', 1889 
In late spring, as I completed the illustration phase and moved into design and project management , I found a few trays of organic tomato and pepper seedling on top of the trash cans at my apartment project. 

No, no, I thought. This will never do! I rescued the seedlings, adopted some out-of-date recycling bins which I filled with good dirt and started a garden project outside my bedroom window. One thing led to another...
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I adopted discarded pots and such from outgoing tenants, bought large bags of organic dirt then tiny pots of favorite herbs and accepted all perennial donations.
Suddenly, I'd started a rather extensive garden project. Over the summer, I learned about nurturing soil, the effects of extreme weather on plants, what vegetables need more than scented gardens and perennial flowers (those being my forte... fortés?). My burgeoning garden yielded tomatoes (but only a few), cucumbers (as few), green peppers (late, even still now, in November) and loads of happy herbs.

Understanding by August that my summer yield was slim, I started a fall garden with new knowledge and tools (amendments) for the soil. 
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By Halloween, things are looking up but we'll have to wait to see what's edible and juiceable. It's been a warm fall and is a warm start to November but the weather (and good watering) bodes well for a southern winter garden.
All right. I've thrown down my own gauntlet. Or I should say, my gardening glove.
​It's enough for today. We'll see what I compose in the coming weeks.

At least I've planted my first seed. 

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"At first, art imitates life. Then life will imitate art.
​Then life will find its very existence from the arts."

—Fyodor Dostoevsky
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