Forest Rogers

Baba Yaga with necklace

 

A Small Observation

I’ve been researching images of Ibex and other horned creatures for an upcoming project (I will tell of it soon, soon...). I found many and many photos of these creatures being propped up by grinning hunters for a post-kill snapshot.

One thing comes to mind: what beautiful, beautiful animals, what ugly little men.

I’m processing more images of Baba Yaga, to add soon, soon. Baba knows what to do with wee men who kill for fun and ego only.

Moving the Site soon...

My Galleries at SquareSpace

Friends,

My sites are in a mid-move and in a bit of a muddle, so I post the link above to my galleries over on SquareSpace, in case anybody's looking for them.   I'm finally getting poised to move over to SquareSpace, largely because I like the design flexibility and control it offers to those of us who aren't CSS literate.  Full forwarding should be installed when I actually do the move, so you're likely to hardly notice. The main URL will be www.ForestRogers.com  as it is here.  All my raveled urls shall be knit up, ultimately. And I've been concocting some entirely new pages, too.

But more of that later -- my birds are waiting for their supper! They're listening to Verdi, and watching "Planet  Earth" on the television. But birds like routine, and mustn't be kept waiting...

More Baba Yaga this Weekend

 
An old in-progress photo (I wonder what the birds who came to the bird-feeder outside the window thought of her). This weekend, more photos, of her in full dress and glory. I'm also working on her chicken-legged hut...

"Indigo Wendigo"

 

Another version of the Wendigo, by Lou Rogers, my mother. A smaller painting, oil on canvas.

Something I cannot not say.

    The United States Supreme Court made a radical decision yesterday. In a 5 to 4 vote, it reversed several generations' worth of policy. It removed all restrictions on corporate political spending. It did this under the guise of ‘freedom of speech’ for corporations as individual entities.

    This promises the very antithesis of freedom of speech for individual Americans, whose voices may altogether drown. It favors speech purchased at an ever more exorbitant price. It will not be government by the people for the people, but government by profit, for profit. It advocates the near unlimited purchase of politicians by such as those lumbering giants whose self-interest helped maim the economy. It is a form of might makes right.

“Government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the Earth.”

                                                   ~ Abraham Lincoln

    Or shall it?

Tomorrow and tomorrow

Next time I shall die
Bringing forth wings and feathers like angels;
After that, soaring higher than angels-
What you cannot imagine
I shall be that.

                             ~ Rumi

Haiti

May our thoughts be with the people of Haiti at this time.

Donations to aid the victims of the earthquake devastation centered around Port-au-Prince may be made at the following sites:

DoctorsWithoutBorders.org
Doctors Without Borders has a longstanding presence in Haiti. Their facilities there have been severely damaged in this catastrophe, and alternatives must be created at once, under extreme conditions.

Also, of course: American Red Cross.

See more relief organizations and donation links at Google's crisis response page.

Prevail

No matter what is going on
Never give up
Develop the heart
Too much energy in your country
Is spent developing the mind
Instead of the heart
Be compassionate
Not just to your friends
But to everyone
Be compassionate
Work for peace
In your heart and in the world
Work for peace
And I say again
Never give up
No matter what is going on around you
Never give up

                ~His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama

Midwinter

 
If each day falls
inside each night,
there exits a well
where clarity is imprisoned

We need to sit on the edge
of the well of darkness
and fish for fallen light
with patience.

                                 ~ Pablo Neruda

"Life is as dear to a mute creature as it is to a man. Even the lowliest insect strives for protection against dangers that threaten its life. Just as each one of us wants happiness and fears pain, just as each one of us wants to live and not die, so do all other creatures."

                                      ~His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama

Silvershod, Silver Hoof for the Season

 

The Wendigo

 
Wendigo by Lou Rogers, my mother. Oil on canvas.
A hungry wind was crying ‘round the house last night in bitter cold, tearing the skin off the snow.  It put me in mind of this image. My mother painted her vision of the Wendigo at least twice, and I knew its name when I was very small. Her favorite tale of the Wendigo was the literary one by Algernon Blackwood. The Wendigo is a legendary being of Algonquian-speaking cultures. Its name appears in various forms: Windiga, Witiko, Weendigo...

I miss...

 

...working large.  One of my angels, who flew to a dome (see  "Liturgical Work" gallery) and had a 14 foot wingspan. I need to find a vulnerable building.   But meantime, a Merry Midwinter to us!

A Spring Faery in Winter

 

Turkey Buzzard!

By Lou P. Rogers (my mother), who loved the local Turkey Buzzards...

Blue Muse

 

In paper based clays.

Hear the Mermaids Singing

 

A tiny faery at the seashore, in Kato Polyclay. She'd stand about 5 1/2 inches tall.

Excellent Advice from a Cookie

 

Good Hallowe'en to You

 

Phantoms by Lou P. Rogers, my mother.  We both loved Hallowe'en.

On the Work Table

Creatures pending: two tiny faeries and one tiny Asian ghost, the Hut belonging to Baba Yaga no. 1, Mr. Faun no. 2, possibly another Eros, a Circe. Skeletons of Baba Yaga and Vasilisa no. 2. We shall see more soon. I am also eager to resume the two-dimensional efforts.

"Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time."
                                           ~Thomas Merton

Angel Painted

Fiat Lux

Angel underway:

(The ribbons behind the ears of Eastern angels always flutter, to indicate they perpetually hear the whisper of God.)

And, with thanks to Lisa S., who sent it way long ago:

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting—
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

             ~ 'Wild Geese'  by Mary Oliver