Bedlam Farm Blog Journal by Jon Katz

21 December

Portrait: Pam At The Co-Op, The Best Smile In Town. People I Love To See

by Jon Katz

As I’ve written, I only take portraits of people I like or love or who know how to smile and make me smile.

Pam volunteers at the town’s Co-Op, Cambridge Place, where Maria and I get most of our fresh and healthy food. Pam comes every Thursday to cut up the fish and prepare it for the buyers.

Pam and her partner have sold antiques for years when she isn’t cutting up fish and wrapping them. She’s a captivating storyteller and a warm and funny person to know. I’m always amazed at the depth and character of the people who have, like Maria and I, come to the country to live.

We’re signing up for some fresh salmon that the co-op orders weekly.

We’ve known and loved Pam for a while now, and I think she has the best and warmest smile I know of or have seen. I’ve always wanted to take her portrait. She has a beautiful face full of feeling and has many great stories to tell.

Like Maria and me, she loves holidays when she can spend alone with her husband. We are planning to do the same thing.

Pam is one of the people I love, but I don’t see her unless I come in on Thursdays. The fish prep is difficult and time-consuming.

She is one of the volunteers who makes the co-op work. I wouldn’t mess with her; she can be tricky as nails.

I’ve been waiting to catch that smile for months, even years. I got my picture this morning, to her surprise and shock. But she gave me a sweet smile. Pam is a storyteller, and she loves stories. I suspect I am her morning story of the day.

She goes into my “People I Love” portrait folder.

Thanks to people like Pam, we can eat fresh and healthy food and meet some of the nicest people in the world. This morning, I bought a small quiche pie, spinach, and goat cheese. Maria and I will share it for lunch.

Support My Blog Support the Army of Good Cambridge Food Pantry

Read or Post a Comment

Zip

21 December

Starting The Day: Zip And Jon’s Morning Meeting In Black And White, Cold Or Wet, He’s Waiting For Me

by Jon Katz

Zip and I have a beautiful thing going. I don’t care for labels so that I wouldn’t describe myself as a cat person. I love donkeys and dogs as well. Every morning – it was frigid this morning – I go outside to take a picture or help feed the animals.

Every morning, Zip is up on the table on the back porch, watching the door and waiting for me. I come over to him and hold him, rub his ears, and scratch his back. He purrs, moves around, and always stops with his head under one of my hands.

We spent about 15 minutes together, and then he set off to do some hunting and exploring. It was too cold for me to stay out longer, but I have come to treasure these meetings – we also have one in the afternoon, around dusk.

Zip came from the angels to stir me up as I approached yet another stage of life. Life is like that; it never stops coming until it does.

Zip is a flirt. When he wants attention, he lies down in front of me and shows his belly. Our morning meetings are a beautiful way to get the day started. I did manage to get my monochrome out in time to catch his head in my hand.

My new (actually old) monochrome camera. It seems to be in perfect shape.

Support My Blog Support the Army of Good Cambridge Food Pantry

Read or Post a Comment

Animals

21 December

Still Life: Three Dogs By The Fire, Keeping Warm

by Jon Katz

It was 10 degrees this morning when we got up; the dogs came in and huddled together by the fire from the wood stove. Zinnia and Bud are inseparable; they touch noses to connect.

Outside, the barn looked beautiful in the cold.

Support My Blog Support the Army of Good Cambridge Food Pantry

Read or Post a Comment

Color and Light

20 December

Color And Light, As Promised, Wednesday, December 20. To Be A Contemplative. Good Night.

by Jon Katz

“To be a contemplative now, it is necessary to walk through nature softly, to be in tune with the rhythm of life, to learn the cycles of time, to listen to the heartbeat of the universe, to love nature, to protect nature, and to discover in nature the presence and the power of God.” – Joan Chittister.

Honestly, Maria is closer to a true contemplative than I am, but I am closer than before. She is the one who walks in the woods, marvels at the life of snails, and feels the heartbeat of the universe. I don’t have a single God to believe in, but I have a robust and growing spirit inside of me. That will be my God for now. That, and the silence.

Maria shares her love of life with me, and I am learning from her. There is a lot of contemplation in our lives, which is precious and deeply spiritual. The flowers bring me closer and closer to the spiritual life I want. The yellow one above feels like a dream; I can get lost.

I miss my garden beds but love looking back at the flowers. I remember every one of them.

On Wednesdays, Maria is gone for much of the evening, and while I miss her, I also revel in the silence and the peacefulness of being alone. In one way or another, I have been alone for much of my life. I need it and revel in it. The dogs are asleep, the chickens are in the roost, Zip is off sleeping somewhere safe, and the donkeys and sheep are in the Pole Barn resting quietly.

I write only by the light of the computer and one old table lamp. It is holy to me

My office feels like a temple to me, a holy place. No more doctors this year; we go to Vermont the day after Christmas, Tuesday and Wednesday. We’ve been going to the same Inn on Christmas every year since our wedding.

It is a safe and peaceful place, almost like a monastery in some ways. We bring books and do nothing but read and talk and occasionally eat.

The room we love has a reading room right off of the bedroom. I love that room, and we always ask for it. If we ask early enough, we can get it. I ask in June.

Like everyone’s life, my life is up and down, whole and meaningful. Most of the time, I am happy. My anxiety, lifelong illness, is never far but never stays too long.

I wouldn’t care to be always happy; life would be boring and stale. I live by how well I handle trouble, not by the little trouble I have.

Trouble always finds me, as it does every soul reading this. But so does joy and meaning. Sleep well. See you in the morning.

Support My Blog Support the Army of Good Cambridge Food Pantry

Read or Post a Comment

Photography

20 December

Pictures, Pictures, Sweet Day. As I Get Older, I Am More Than Ever Committed To My Art, My Life, My Love And My Freedom.

by Jon Katz

I had a full and busy day. Tomorrow, I hope to see Faith at Subway and interview Jim at the Mansion. I had a phone monochrome lesson and learned about operating the camera. Things are quieting down for Christmas; I can feel it.

Maria is at her belly dancing class; she’ll be home around 8 p.m. She loves every class. I’m cooking salmon for her and actual crab cake – all crab – from Adirondack Seafood.

We’re going to see “Maestro,” the Leonard Bernstein movie, in a movie theater this Sunday. I warned Maria that I cry every time I see Leonard Berstein conducting. He has so much emotion it goes right through me.

I saw him once in New York City, and I cried then, and so, I learned, did he. I’ll never forget that night.

I can’t wait to see the movie. I couldn’t do this on Netflix; I need a big, loud screen.

I had fun running around and experimenting. Above is the beautiful dusk as the sun retreated over the hills. It’s a freezing day. I am coming to terms with myself as an artist and am determined to improve at this work. Below is a black-and-white look at our elegant Victorian candle/glass lamp.