One of the joys of my and Maria’s lives has been watching the other heal, grow, open, and work hard day and night to be creative. I am not embarrassed to say today that she is a lot more creative than I am now, and I see myself as quite creative. Tthere is not much argument about it. And I couldn’t be happier.

Creativity is our faith. When Maria and I first met, we were both broken, frightened, unhappy, and unfulfilled. I cracked up and went deeply into my therapy and meditation work; Maria went to work on her art, her independence, and her strength.

From the first we have been devoted to supporting one another and our dreams, and we have never wavered from that promise.

From a blocked and anxious art student and hopeful artist with little confidence in herself, she has grown into a successful fiber artist, a blogger, a videographer, a photographer, an essayist, and an increasingly popular naturalist.

I love her Notes From The Woods.  Her quits and hanging pieces and potholders are amazing and loved all over the world.

Her emancipation  and versatility has rubbed off on me somewhat; I am learning, opening up, and expanding my notion of creativity in photography and writing. I’m afraid that’s all.

What a pleasure to see Maria grow. Something new has been clarified for me in the past year or so, and it is a thrill and privilege to watch. She is an immensely gifted and now an increasingly sophisticated, educated, and passionate lover and student of nature.

It has become an integral part of her art and inspiration. It shows up all the time. This week, she made a dozen raven potholders and one hanging Raven piece. They were all sold instantly, even before many of them were made.

She studies almost everything that moves out there in the woods and pastures – bugs, ticks, spiders, owls, ravens, frogs, songbirds, snakes, and the animals of the farm, who she loves deeply and cares for and knows. Every morning (I groan sometimes) I wake up to hear about something new she has learned about bugs, birds or trees and wildflowrs I’ve never heard of.

This afternoon, we sat out in the backyard resting after some hot gardening in the sun. She kept looking over at the pasture fence and pointing out the beautiful songbirds feasting off the wall of thistles growing on the fence. I knew something was brewing. She couldn’t take her eyes off them, I could practically hear the wheels turning in her head.

Finally, she turned to me and said, “I read somewhere that if you sit still for 20 minutes, songbirds will get used to you and not fly away. I’m going to try it. I’d love to do a short video of the birds on the thistles.”

I had to smile. I would never have thought of this or pulled it off in a million years. The mere sight of me lumbering into the pasture would have sent the songbirds sailing off in search of different thistles, maybe in  Vermon. Maria did it as naturally as walking to the mailbox.

She was just inches from the songbirds. They didn’t seem to notice her.

I got my picture – my contribution –  and came back into the house.

I  came into my office to sort through today’s photos, and I heard Maria leave the farmhouse and go outside.

I had a good idea where she was going. I grabbed my camera and went very quietly out into the pasture. Through the thistle, I could see her sitting in the hot sun, bugs, and mosquitoes circling her.

She was sitting right next to the dance; I could see the flashes of yellow moving in front of her; she was still.

She sat out there for half an hour, and by then, I was back in my office writing. I didn’t want to disturb her by getting closer or speaking to her. I’m sure she noticed that I was there.

How did you do? I asked. Great, she said.

Did you get the video you wanted? I asked.

Yes, she said, smiling.

It’s on You Tube and will shortly be on her blog. Here it is.

I suspect she is blogging about it.