Album of the Heart ~ May 29, 1880

For a Friend 
from Leanna Johnson

Gilroy

In the good olden times, on the bark of a tree,

Friends would carve out their names, where smoothest it would be

On the rind of the bark, they would carve them so plain

The friends would depart, but their trace would remain,

When Spring, after Spring, would make green it's bed,

The names they had left, would continue to spread.

"If you can't find it here, you can't"

Yet better by far is the album I ween, 

where we scribble on white, to keep memory green,

The leaf is so large, we can write a whole song

And the book is so small, we can take it along.

We need not be roaming, our friends to recall,

But turn over the leaves, and we meet with them all.

I've been researching this entry in Great Grandmother Flora's Album on and off for months. Most of the poetic entries written in her Album are excerpts from published poets, but I can find no reference, no famous poet, no vaunted author associated with these wonderful words and clear imagery. Flora was 21 in 1880 so her friend Leanna was probably about the same age. Are these lines too world wise for a young woman? Who's to say, but regardless of who penned it, it was meant to be shared. If you know who the author is please let me know and I'll correct the attribution. 

The tree photo was taken on a walk at Maroon Bells in Aspen, CO in 1970's. I hope it's still standing tall in the forest. It would be interesting to see how the carvings changed with the growth of the tree. The pup in the background was my dog Charis, a black lab/golden retriever mix who never found a puddle he didn't like.  

Just a Thought Series ~ Fall 1975 or so

I was rummaging through some old photographs I set aside for my collage and altered book projects. The purpose was to come up with a way to organize the chaos of a unsorted box. During the expedition I rediscovered this photo. The words of the hand carved grave marker have always made me smile: reminding me of my own father. 

A little history: I was on two week road trip to Colorado. We spent a couple of nights in Crested Butte with a friend of my traveling partner. To get to Aspen we decided on a road less traveled and took Kebler Pass towards Redstone. We made a short detour to an old grave yard where I photographed this marker. I've always wanted to know the story behind it so I did a little research this morning. I looked up pioneer graveyards in the area including Ruby and Irwin and found nothing. Not one to give up easily I searched the entire quote and was astounded to find the following:

Cpl. Mervin C. Wheeler was laid to rest in the Old Irwin Cemetery. There is now this permanent marker and his wife, who passed away in August of 2009 is buried next to him. The poem on the marker was written by (or quoted by) their daughter Linda. What a wonderful memorial to a father. There is always more to a story. Look beyond the pictures and the words.

Just a Thought Series ~ June 16, 1975

Aspen, Colorado ~ Curled up in a down filled nest at my friend's house sipping a cup of morning coffee ~ my thoughts wander to the very large boulder that occupies part of the space and then to home. I see contradictions in where I am there and where I could be. This isn't negative space, but the start of a learning phase. Things I want to change will take patience and time and it begins with me.

I need to be my own resource and expose myself a little more to the world. It's so easy to become complacent and caught up in the minutia of the every day. Practicality keeps one secure, but not always stimulated. Time to start thinking outside the box.

Outside the Box

http://www.etsy.com/shop/GingerAftertaste

Coming to the Rockies on this little adventure has awakened my mind from the stillness of a long winter's spell, literally and figuratively. The buds of spring are full to bursting, creativity and inspiration flow like a snowmelt river. I am aware of an unrestlessness I have not known for awhile. Time out and adventures need to occupy a larger percentage of my time.

Just a Thought Series ~ June 1975 Update

Strolling through the pages of some of my old journals I found an entry from a June, 1975. I had recently traded my old VW bus in on a Datsun 240Z and was ready for a road trip. Off to Aspen to spend a week with my old roommate Patti. She lived in a small cottage with a very large boulder in the living room. We spent every day hiking and exploring and then would head out in the evening to hear live music.

Maroon Bells at Sunrise (unknown photographer)

On the trail around the lake someone carved these words on an aspen tree. One wonders if they are still there?  I just found the photo I took on that hike. Perhaps it's time for another road trip to Aspen to see if the tree is still there along the trail.

"If you can't find it here, you can't find it" 

I met musician and songwriter Chris Cox one evening and we talked about his love of music and some of his feelings on the subject. His words stuck with me.

What is true

Is that when you get down

To why you are doing something

~

Not for the money

Or the ego satisfaction

Not for the expectations

Or the promises

~

But for the shear love

Of what you are doing

There exist no droughts

No dried up wells

Thirty five years later I look at a creative life well spent and still growing and understand exactly what he meant. It never ceases to amaze me how random and serendipitous conversations can be so prophetic.