The Ukazoo Journey-“Snapshots and Memorabilia”

Sixth week of Ukazoo Art Exhibit

“Marble Hitting the Forest Floor”

Concerning the Ukazoo Art Exhibit, Mac, who was rushed to the hospital moments before leaving his home to attend the Opening Exhibit is now home after four days in the hospital. Doing well.

To work out an evening to meet with Mac and his wife Laura at the Ukazoo Exhibit, I have scheduled an informal closing reception Saturday evening, April 12th. This “meet and greet” is for anyone yet to see the art exhibit, those who were unable to make the opening, and guests who would like to drop by and pick up purchased art. I will be there from 6:00 to 8:00 p.m., at which time I will start the packing up process. Again, it was a wonderful Opening, March 15th and thank all those that attended.

On a Ukazoo Journey “Snapshots and Memorabilia” note:

One final manila envelope lay at the bottom of the box of mail I had retrieved from the Post Office after my journey. I put off opening it till after the Opening Reception.

Picking the envelope up, I spotted the New York postmark and remembered my stop near Saranac Lake in the Adirondack Park where I posted Slide 29-”Reflection”. The contents, similar as the other manila envelopes I received by mail, was a letter and in this case a print, rather than a photograph.

The letter was from “Morning Dove Among the Clouds”, one of the owners of “Unity’s Soft Comfort to Heavenly Dream &Taste Bud Sensations” (Bed & Breakfast). Morning, I knew from my visit, was a exceptional sculpture artist with a great many of her pieces placed about the grounds of their inn. I was unaware Morning also, infrequently, worked with oils and had a few of her paintings adorning the walls at the Inn.

Morning wrote, that feeling rather proud of her hubby for helping her with the re-doweling of the spherical limbs of her outdoor sculpture at the Reflection Pool, she decided to paint a “this is what I feel” interpretation of her husband, “Marble Hitting the Forest Floor”, aka Butch. Morning made a few prints and sent one to me, which I have included in this post.

In closing, her letter mentioned that Butch says hi and wanted me to know that guests of the retreat were so glad he changed his healthy alteration of s’more’s back to the original recipe of chocolate bars, marshmallows, and graham crackers and that he will never, ever, tinker with the ingredients’ again.

Art notes:

All images and text are copyright Craig L Haupt

Postings of “Ukazoo Journey” Slides are every Monday Evening.

New arrivals to the “Journey” please view:

FaceBook: Craig L Haupt – “Journey to Ukazoo Album” or

Blog: http://www.craiglhaupt.com – “Journey to Ukazoo”

See “Slide One” for a brief synopsis.

Ukazoo Art Exhibit of New Art Works, March 15, to April 12, 2014, at Ukazoo Book Store, Towson, MD 21204

Closing informal reception-Saturday April 13, 6:00 to 8:00 P.M.

Journey to Ukazoo-Slide 29

Posted by Craig L Haupt

Journey to Ukazoo

Slide 29: “Reflection”

Continuing my Journey to Ukazoo, I stayed in New York and made my way to a remote area near Saranac Lake in the Adirondack Park.

Usually a Bed & Breakfast is called a Bed & Breakfast but the one I found was Unity’s “Soft Comfort to Heavenly Dreams” & “Taste Bud Sensations”. Primarily known as a Self-awareness and natural foods retreat, the Inn’s decor was an array of candles, incense, beaded curtains, and lining the walls, artwork depicting every known deity. Within the context of the inn’s name I was greeted by the lady of the house and resident sculpture artist, “Morning Dove Among the Clouds”, and later at the ’community’ dinner I met Morning’s husband, “Marble Hitting the Forest Floor”. Marble, not only the inn’s chef, but spiritual guide to several of the meditation and yoga classes, informed me, everyone just calls him “Butch”.

While not engaging in the many classes and seminars offered, I found the quiet environment and extremely interesting hosts augmented my creative process and I accomplished more artwork than anticipated. Possibly the only low point during my stay came at the weekly evening campfire and Butch’s new recipe for s’mores . Tofu cubes, heated over a fire, topped with carob squares, and placed between two yam-crackers. After I tried the first one, I politely refused a second by a “Thank you, but n’mores”.

Towards the end of the week, busy checking in new arrivals, Morning asked if I would wander up to the Reflection pond and remind Butch it was time to start dinner preparations. Entering a beautiful topiary/sculpture garden I saw Butch, deep in thought, staring into a rectangle shaped pool of crystal clear water . Not wanting to interrupt, I sat opposite the pool and quietly waited.

After a half an hour and still no movement from Butch, I got out the camera and took this picture. Maybe it the click of the shutter, the chirp of a nearby bird, or a slight wind enhanced ripple in the water, but Butch suddenly looked up, a little startled but seemingly delighted by my presence. Sensing an opportunity for a fresh insightful opinion, he recounted a perplexing problem that was weighting heavily on his mind. After picking a flower for Morning, he inadvertently knocked a spherical limb off Morning’s newly created grouping of sculptures. “I’ve tried fixing it to no avail and then, resorted to pondering excuses and stories of how it happened-a strong wind, a lightning bolt, a rogue alligator swishing his tail. I don’t know what to do and have been here for hours trying to resolve my dilemma”.

“Any suggestions?”

The Truth, you’re always talking about seeking the truth, well, tell her the truth, was my suggestion.

Back at the inn, holding out the broken piece with a downward gaze, he told her, and his head lifted when she related she was well aware of the potential problem. She was working on a doweling system and would rework all the spherical limbs. She was glad Butch had let her know. Even gave him a big kiss on the cheek.

Butch turned and silently mouthed a thank you in my direction.

Speaking of truth, I then mentioned to Butch my thoughts on his s’mores. I like yams and I don’t mind tofu in certain dishes and I loved all the meals you prepared but I think your recipe for s’mores should be reconsidered. He laughed, and told me he had received quite a few anonymous notes in the suggestion box echoing my sentiments and later today he would be placing an order for marshmallows, chocolate bars, and graham crackers.

Art notes:

All images and text are copyright Craig L Haupt

Postings of “Journey to Ukazoo” Slides are every Monday Evening.

New arrivals to the “Journey” please see Slide One for a brief synopsis.

Journey to Ukazoo-Slide 28

Posted by Craig L Haupt

Journey to Ukazoo

Slide 28: “But the Map Says….”

From Ohio, I stopped at a Bed &Breakfast in North Tonawanda, NY, 13 miles south of Niagara Falls.

By weeks end, on Friday, I was sitting on the front porch of the inn when a passenger van, with secured rowboat atop, approached the B&B. Instead of stopping it moseyed pass and parked several houses down. With six gentlemen exiting the van, I could just make out their animated discussion involving which house was the B&B. The driver, quiet, seemed to wait patiently for a resolution, while four of remaining five insisted they were at the B&B. The last of the six, holding the Inn’s emailed directions, was pointing back towards the Inn. The four wouldn’t listen and made their way to the front door and were consequently directed, by the owner, to the same place their colleague had pointed.

As they checked into the B&B, I learned that they were six buddies on a trip without the wives, intent on a rip-roaring guys-only good time. I sensed an interesting weekend ahead.

For dinner, they decided on one of the Inn’s recommended restaurants and the same four were adamant that clearly by the restaurant’s name, Antero’s, Italian food was offered. The driver, Marco, offered no opinion and the sixth, Enzo, noticing no Italian dishes listed on the Inn’s sample menu, mentioned “but the Menu reads….” to no avail. They left. Thirty minutes later they returned to the inn, rechecked the Inn’s sample menu’s and found a restaurant that served Italian. Antero’s was Finnish.

The next morning, sitting on the porch, the topic of heading to Grand Island developed into similar discussions I had witnessed yesterday. The same four, spearheaded by Theo, insisted the island was East, Marco, again silent of any input, and Enzo, with a tourist brochure in hand tried to persuade his friends to head West. Overruled, they piled into the van and headed East. Within 15 minutes, I noticed the van retracing its route, now heading West.

That evening was the planned boat ride under the stars. They asked if I would be the designated driver, taking them to launch the boat and drive down river to retrieve them.

Dropping them off, the same argument transpired with Enzo, map in hand, trying to tell them they were too far up river. They claimed, again with no feedback from Marco, they were down river from the falls and eased the boat into the water.

Not twenty minutes into driving, I noticed a series of smaller waterfalls and rapids to my left and further downstream, the American side of Niagara Falls. I pulled over and could just see their boat, making it’s way to the edge of the first line of waterfalls. Too far away to verbally warn them, I quickly called 911, then I got out my camera and attached my long lens to keep them in sight. As I took this picture, I could make out the same scenario taking place. Theo and the other three insisting by their calculations that the emanating sounds of the ‘falls’ were behind them and therefore maintain course. Marco rowing, nervously mute, going with the flow. In the back of the boat was Enzo, map spread out, dimly illuminated by a flashlight, still asserting “But the Map says…”.

Sirens sounded of approaching rescue vehicles and the whirl of rotors overhead signaled a helicopter was zeroing in. The first set of falls, a preamble of the rapids and looming larger falls, offered a seven foot downward plunge. They went over. Capsized, Enzo and the others managed to swim to a protruding isolated rock while a now empty boat floated to an unfortunate end. After their rescue, still wet, embarrassed, and minus a boat, I drove them back to the inn.

The next morning while they were preparing to leave, Theo and the others mentioned they wanted to at least stop at the Finger Lakes region before heading home and all, in unison, turned towards Enzo and asked with humbled voices “Which way should we go?”.

Art notes:

All images and text are copyright Craig L Haupt

Postings of “Journey to Ukazoo” Slides are every Monday Evening.

New arrivals to the “Journey” please see Slide One for a brief synopsis.