Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Tolovana 2009

I think the trip to Tolovana is now a tradition with the same group of people we went out with last year. The shot above is the trail just as we were starting out. Beautiful sun glinting in sparkles off the four inches of new snow, rabbit tracks, great quiet. The shushing of our skis through new snow on a day like this is another one of my visions of heaven. Fromage took a little video...I'll have to post it and show ya'll.

Tea on the trail. Fromage and I always bring the same tea on trips like this. For our 10 years together, it's our 'adventure tea.'

The trail conditions worsened as the day wore on. 4.5 hours of skiing to reach the springs. At one point I had a cussing fit at my skis and at another, after doing a full face plant at what felt like 30mph into a snowbank, I had a good, little, pouty girl cry. Good thing I was alone and no one was around to see me! Good friends and good alcohol were waiting as soon as I walked in the door of the cabin, so all was well in the end.

Fromage on our bunk.

Shannon, my cycling, skiing and adventure friend.

Part of the gang, hanging out at the Cedar cabin. I wish I'd taken more pictures, but sometimes it's hard for me to have the camera around. I think that I spent too many years taking photos....always looking for an art shot or always looking for an image to save. Sometimes, I just don't want to 'save it for later,' you know? Sometimes I just want to live in the moment.

I'm finding that the only way to ease my heavy grief over Oblio's death is to spend a lot of time with good friends. The hardest part is first thing in the morning. As soon as I wake up, I remember that he is dead, and the loss is born all over again. It's hard to be at home, too. Everything reminds me of him. For the last 2 years of his life, I spent most of my time with him----working seasonally and also working in my home studio, we were always together. I made a small photo album of every image of him I could find. I let myself look at it once a day. He was something like my familiar, and definitely one of my best friends. I feel like part of my heart has been cut out. A friend pointed out that I had a great emotional focus on Oblio, and now that he is gone, all that love and caring and attention I centered on him is cut adrift and has no place to go. She told me this after I described my sudden and irrational affection for a woodpecker which has been visiting our porch woodpile every day......

Time to get back to the studio. I have a new painting in the hopper that I will title, "Timeline." LOTS of intricate black ink pen work.


Chrissy Johnson said...

I wondered upon your blog a few weeks ago somehow & have enjoyed reading! Am glad for your return. I don't think many who don't have cats understand how special they are...

neimanmarxist said...

hi there! what a magnificent trip that looks like. there is something especially enticing about "adventure tea" what a lovely concept ,to associate a flavour with an experience.

Sheree Rensel said...

Eero, Oh. This isn't just a cat thing. It is a true love thing. Like I said before, my baby, dog Gizmo is twelve years old. Just reading this post makes me cry for you and Oblio. Maybe this will help me when Giz has to follow his spiritual path. I know the day will come, but it isn't easy to think about. I know from losing another friend years ago, the pain never goes away, but it transforms. Also, it is true. Your outpouring of love and compassion will find a new place to land. It will with time.

Oh and by the way, that snow hiking trail looks like hell to me. Just thinking about being there and looking at all your hearty, bundled up friends sends shivers down my spine. In this way, we are cut from a different cloth. However, that is what makes us all unique! :-)

Anonymous said...