The Good

Homemade Charcoal

5/8/2021

I have recently learned that you can make homemade charcoal quite easily. It takes three hours, a willow branch the size of your thumb, a soup can, tin foil, and a fire.

First, cut a willow branch and peel the bark.

Then cut the branch into lengths that fit inside your tin can. The can needs to be covered tightly with tin foil, with holes poked in the top with a toothpick. Next, set the can on the edge of a fire that is surrounded by your favorite people.

After two hours, remove the tin can from the fire and let cool. Then make some art. Don't delay. Make whatever is in front of you.

Right Beach

7/20/2020

Jason organized our trip to Right Beach and took us back to this place he visited many years ago. It was different, of course, this summer in the midst of a pandemic. A trip like this is different in that the air is fresher, the colors more vibrant, the fire less smoky, the bugs less buzzing, the time with friends more precious in the shadow of this serious year.

The trip was fast. A few kayak paddles (We poked around an empty Halibut Cove), a hike or two, a couple sits around a fire, and then - as they all do - the trip ended with us facing the sea waiting for the water taxi. It was enough, though, to cleanse my heavy mood, and hush the constant urge to check my phone, and strengthen our friendships.

Jason's and Bekah's little girl, Elena was a champ. She is the most easy going two year old I've ever hung out with. It was so fun to watch Jason watch our trip through his little girl's eyes.

Laura and Shane visited from Seattle and convinced me to not miss out. We missed Bekah so much since she had to back out at the last minute, but I am so glad I joined this little adventure.

Henry, at just 3 months old, got his first taste of well, every texture that Right beach has to offer. He took his doggy dog wanderings, ate starfish skeletons and kelp and sand, and he snuggled against my sleeping bag after being so spent from having dug deep holes in the Kachemak Bay sand.

This trip is something that went perfectly right this year. Thank you to Jason, Elena, Laura, and Shane for a great memory. Cheers to the next adventure!

Arizona in March

3/5/2020

The plane flew over Eagle River on the way out of town. It's easy to forget sometimes that just moments away from where I live is a dramatic wildness. The mountain ranges go on and on - dramatic and craggy things that slope down into bowls of gathered wind-swept snow that are so untouched that I become aware of my inhale. On the flight down I sat next to the man who built the house next door to us. I love our little town.

I decided to hang out in downtown Phoenix for two nights before heading to hang with my parents.
I like how this year has started out. I am more at ease, less worried than I have been in the past. I'm excited for what lies ahead and grateful to be able to take a trip like this - hotel, museum, rental car, botanical garden, family, food. I have nowhere to be and just those to do for the next week.

Phoenix

At the Songbird Coffee & Tea, the morning is buzzing with bird song, construction noise, and the quiet affirmations of two people in love sitting a few seats away. This old brick and wood house has a door that yawns the sound of nostalgia. Who lived here in 1904 when the sawdust was swept from the floors of this new home? What dreams were told to these walls, I wonder. What if our house will be a groovy coffee shop in 2118? I hope dogs are allowed to sit with you in the dirt yard under a tree. It's weird to think that our house, so contemporary, so adored - might one day be a place where strangers drag their feet across the floors to the back room where a cashier makes coffee and tea and keeps cold cream in a short refrigerator where the dresser once stood.

A gust of traffic flows by. The morning air is just a cool enough that I urge the sun to hurry its bend around the 8 story apartment building across the street - where a construction crane looms over, making a promise that the rising sun will shine through these old glass windows for the last time here soon.

A day in a new place goes fast. I walked almost 9 miles and enjoyed the Phoenix Art Museum.

"I really feel like I could spend my whole life painting still lifes and express everything I wanted to express through them." Elaine Fried

Louisa McElwain’s “Desert Rain God”

Edward Henry Potthast's "Looking Across the Grand Canyon"

Those colors!

I made sure to get to the Desert Botanical Garden before sunset. The golden light was a dream and maybe it was the Ansel Adam’s exhibit from the museum earlier, but I loved the drama of the monochromatic treatment of some of these shots:

Ten Lines

9/8/2019

Ten Lines for as Many Years

For tradition and for the yellow leaves, I slipped into white
lace and you dressed in a suit, both we would never
wear again. It was just you and me standing amongst the
people who made us. My dad and I walked down a gravel
path to a dock, to you, to our families under a blue September sky.

Bud read the vows and we repeated, sending them into
the future as unwrapped hope. Since then, we've lightened
as our roots interlace around each other to spread and stabilize.
Every once in a while I find myself laughing a little longer and a little
harder, so I can keep a moment fluid before it solidifies into memory.

Let's Celebrate

We got to pal around for a few days, just you and I in the closest downtown we have, talking about how much we love being in the middle of things just to come home to our quiet small town at the base of mountain ranges that range and range.

Each trip we learn how to travel a bit better. We find a place we can get coffee over which I can sketch while you take your time getting up. We find a restaurant we can go back to again and again. We loved Matt's in the Market so much we found ourselves there a few times.

We walked as much as we could. At one point we thought we could make it to the Locks, but 5 miles is so much longer when you're in the city.

We got a ride to our destination and watched the locks fill as busy boats waited.

We ended the weekend by stopping in at Laura's and Shane's, hanging out with some of our favorite people, and jumping on a much later flight than we planned. As we lifted off, we started scheduling our next trip to Seattle.

Harding Icefield Trail

8/14/2019

Photo Credit: Cody Wong

I do not believe that I have been on a more beautiful hike.

Cody and I embarked on our fifth hike of the summer, which took us past blue glaciers, fields of fireweed, and tired tourists. The ascent to an incredible view is worth the 4,000 foot and 9.7 mile round-trip hike. We were surprised by how heavily trafficked the trail was, and we will remember to start a little later in the day next time. To get a reprieve from fellow travelers, we stopped at a watering hole for about an hour. We soaked our feet in the cool snow melt and chatted with a few visitors from London, mainland China, and California.

The moonscape left behind by the retreating glacier is a monochromatic desert with percussive beats of extroverted greens, shy yellows, and reaching pinks.

And then there is this...

Photo Credit: Cody Wong

Creases

It stopped me. It awed me.
The way the mountains peak above
the ancient ice made me think
about time and the slow aching
expanse of it as it folds
onto itself and stretches
into ripened wrinkles.

It made me. It wrinkled me.
The wrinkles of a glacier,
like an elephant, like an autumn leaf,
like dimpled flesh, like my face in
the coming years. I will feel
contentment and belonging
in those creases to come.

Raven Glacier

7/19/2019

This is a hike I promise to take every summer from now on. It has been five years since I walked this trail on the way to Eagle River Nature Center. At that time I remember thinking that the first five miles would make the most spectacular hike, then we went on 18 more. That probably won't happen again, but this definitely will...

From ERNC

The climb is pleasantly gradual, both up and down. And the long path across falling water and past sitting mountain goats on the way to a majestic glacier makes it one of the best hikes within an hour of Anchorage.

Thanks for hiking with me this summer, Cody.

And the views...

If there is a chance to dip my toes in water or splash my face with the refreshment of a rushing stream, it can't be avoided.

Happiness.

Guitars

7/3/2019

My father-in-law is a retired Architect turned luthier. Over the last four years I have honed my own artistic eye as a result of having access to Matt’s workbench and technical journey. It has been an honor to capture photos of this process. This summer, I am taking Advanced Digital Photography through UAF with Charles Mason to help me sort through and narrate this project. Here is where I am at so far...

Sand Shapes

5/14/2019

This is a sketch I made on the end of the spit.

I've recently returned from Homer with 19 students, two co-teachers (Dick and Joe), some committed parent volunteers, and two poems.

Wabi Sabi Tanka

Living relic scraped
Its oft told myths on bark scrolls.
Pointed, unpleasant
places exposed, ugly and
Whole disfigurement. Superb.

Sand Shapes

Less definite, less rigid, less certain, lest
We forget what love is and how to begin again.
At each tide, the sand concaves and convexes
into feathers too heavy for flight.

Sand shapes itself into mountain ranges,
River basins, and pools that vein new life into the sun.
I am beholden to the promise of a new day, a new wave.
I have stamped these sand shapes, here.

Loneliness is improbable as grains reverberate
You back to me, back to you, back to me.
The sand shapes then swirl into the belly of a wave.
I whisper, "You're sublime, everything is sublime."

Meekly reverential, I swell and the ocean takes residence
In my marrow, and I am sand shapes and weightless.

Painting

5/6/2019

Over the last few years my creativity has tugged me into the world of painting. I first became smitten with acrylics and worked on canvas for about a year. Then last fall I decided to pursue an art degree and took my first semester-long watercolor class. Now I have finished my second semester. I'm witness to poetry, sculpture, and painting braiding an interesting story. Next, I'm taking some digital photography classes. Ideas are in process here.

“A painting is never finished -
it simply stops in interesting places.”
― Paul Gardner

Mindietta Vogel on Behance

Hi there! My name is Mindietta. Among many other roles I am an artist, poet, and I get to be a 6-12 grade English teacher. As for hobbies and interests, I have been writing and playing with photography for years, publishing it on a fun blog at www.alaskagoodlife.com.

Early January

1/5/2019

Chicago

9/15/2018

Good things come to those who wait, I guess. This was my favorite city I have visited so far. It is special.

We arrived in the Gold Coast in Chicago. The Thompson is perfectly positioned at the edge of a residential area at the end of the Magnificent Mile.

Flirtatious window displays twinkle just around the corner from serious, disesteeming brownstones that turn their gazes through oak leaves to Lake Michigan.

We explored the downtown area for four days, absorbing the rich history and art of this place.

From the iconic architecture to a 19th century baseball team
pitching ball in Lincoln park, the city’s confidence in itself is infatuating.

This city is a City. We rode up to the 95th floor in the Chicago Park District for a cocktail that costs more than a plate of dinner. As the sun sinks, the buildings transform themselves into incandescent cliffs of steel and glass from which we can see way down into the shadowed chasms of the noisy streets.

These streets are where we found food we will remember. We savored the bites and found ourselves pulled back again and again to places like The Purple Pig where for two different nights we bellied up to the bar for food and libations. There we made momentary friendships with a mother and daughter from Mumbai and couple from Chatanooga. There was the Lux Bar just across the street from our hotel, were we also chatted and walked and sipped and savored Chicago.

The art was my interest. Wolfgang Butress’ sculpture Lucent is 14 feet in diameter and represents the 3,106 easily visible stars from the Northern Hemisphere. The half-sphere is reflected between water and mirror-polished steel.

We see ourselves in the art that we admire, literally sometimes, like in Cloud Gate. And...

I see myself in the shadow and light that Monet in On the Bank of the Seine, Bennecourt.

I see myself in the distressed and tired eyes of Van Gogh’s Self-Portrait.

I see who I want to become as an artist in the pen strokes of Alberto Giametti’s Diego Seated in the Studio

I see who I am in the creamy brushstrokes in the Shoe Shop painted by Elizabeth Sparhawk-Jones.

I see my front porch as the perfect subject of a painting because of Yellow House 2 by Alex Katz.

And I see my girlhood naughtiness in Stamford after Brunch by John Currin.

The iO theater and Second City are the home of the art of improv and comedy. The Improvised Shakespeare Company was our favorite. These players on the stage weaved iambic pentameter quips into several improvisational acts over the course of an hour. Second City was high energy and high production. And, we now know - in our bones - that there are few things more life-affirming than a belly laugh and a beer.

So on our last day, smitten with a city so alive, I sat in Mariano Plaza and painted for hours as Adam slept on the 5th floor of a stylish hotel and the sun wrapped around the city like a blanket nestling me with a knowing that we will be back so many more times.

Hollywood

9/15/2018

East Twin Pass

6/15/2018

This hike was a realization of Jessie's dream last year when we accidentally turned left instead of right.

I love the twin peaks trail. It is stunning and comfortable.

Jessie, Mary Ann, and I took on this trail one foot after the other. We moved slow and I experienced the terrain and the purpose of hiking in a different way. At times, I focused on each step, heel to toe - just as I learned from Patty at Ageya in Homer.

Forget me not

Smaller than I think,
Always it surprises.
Pearls of blue and yellow
in bouquets
that rejoice and exult.

They are a paradox.
A tiny flower for our
gargantuan state.

I put a small tuft
behind my ear
and feel pretty,
oh so lovely.

Bear Point

6/6/2018

Google Maps

For a very long time, I have wanted to climb Bear Mountain. I think part of what kept me away from this one was that I found it so intimidating from the car window on the Glenn Highway. The face of this peak casts its shadow from the morning sun on Peters Creek and loomed in my imagination for far too long.

The reality is that you end up driving most the way up. For the Bear Point hike, we walked about 5 miles out-and-back and gained 1,600 feet in elevation. It was steep at the saddle, but overall a great hike. Later this summer, I would like to do the Eklutna Peak and maybe the loop to compare the two hikes. The Bear Mountain trail is unmarked but is an obvious up-and-off-to-the-left turn about 1/4 mile from the Peters Creek Valley trailhead.

Here are some other resources I found helpful before Jessie and I headed out:

I had a brand new pair of hiking shoes for this trip. They turned out to be great, and I loved taking off my shoes at the top to give my feet a rest - so refreshing. Sunshine speckled through the clouds, there were no bugs, and a pleasant breeze had us layering-up at the top.

I love to look down at my home. We saw the mouth of the Eagle River as it gives way to the Knick Arm. The Arm also receives waters from Ship, Fish, and Peter's creeks. The largest tributary is the Susitna River, and the Knik Arm also stretches into the Matanuska and Knik rivers, most of which can be seen from the flat, rocky perch of Bear Mountain.

Homer Again

5/30/2018

On the last day of school, rig packed, I was out of town on the way to Homer. I took my time on the drive, and I grabbed some meat and cheese from Fromagio's to share and a sandwich for the road.

In a flash, the clouds blushed and Kathy snapped this picture with her iPad at sunset. I was already in bed, but glad to be by the ocean, next to nature, with family and friends.

Homer is often a destination of creativity, restoration, and indulgence for me. I eat out too much and find some mode of expression. In the past its been photography and writing. More recently, it is painting, sketching, and more writing.

It's so exciting that the Homer Spit Oyster Bar is in its second season. I was thrilled to belly up and have some great bites. The menu is yummy. I went back for grilled cheese that was more cheese than I thought possible to squeeze between two slices of bread.

The Tickled Pear offered some flavorful food-truck grub. We grabbed a bunch of small bites to share.

Then, there was the gelato. Somehow the Affogato became a daily afternoon delight. The term means "drowned" in Italian which is what happens to the gelato once it is drenched in a shot of hot espresso. It still stirs a sense of gratitude and a smile as I write this sitting at home.

After days of fires, family, and food - I decided to stay one more night. Matt recommended staying in one of the lodgings on the spit. It was an excellent choice.

My last evening in Homer was a good one. I walked the beach and sketched and sat by one last fire with Jessie and Paul.

For dinner, and my single favorite bite, I ordered a K-Bay Octopus Poke to go from Little Mermaid. Please do this: Sit on the beach to watch the waves and the sand and the people and savor the layers of flavor.

On the way home, I ambled up the highway stopping in at the Kasilof Museum. It was neat to walk into century-old buildings. The historical perspective is singularly focused on the settlers' experience starting about 130 years ago. It is fascinating and inspiring to see the desperation, determination, and pioneer spirit required by the frontier men and women.

The painful interplay between the first nation peoples, the Russian settlements, the countless natural-resource booms and busts, the American settlements, and the militarization of this huge state is as epic as the landscape. What does this have to do with Homer? I don't know except that I think everything is connected, even if I don't understand how.

Homer is a happy place for my heart. I love what I get to see and do. Many a painting will be inspired by the five days I spent there.

Pussy Willows in Spring

4/12/2018

Pussy Willows in Spring

Mother Spring slept. Sunrise distant. Twitch of
Forefinger, a flutter of an eyelid,
Then silence, Crisp snow on cheeks. Ice air breath
February rose, fell. Cumbrous silence.

Winter Rested. Spring Coiled. A little light
On the ridge. Mother Spring stretched her breath long.
Towards light, fingers reached. Her body lengthened,
Snow fell from her shoulders and into soil.

Trickling waters from dripping snow, soon flowed.
Dripping sun and dripping darkness. Day was
Never now night. Spring stood. She stretched her arms
Wide. March dripped into buoyant, bright April.

Out a kitchen window, a furry flash:
Against blue sky, a pussy willow branch.

Dreaming for Snow

12/10/2017

I can see it in mine, and yours too - the corners
of eyes and mouth sag, weighted by our slushy urban slog.
Unurbane, we melt into the night like Dali's clocks,
Counting, counting the minutes of loss.

Soon I'll look into the sun that cleans
every corner and highlights the dust,
and diamonds the snow, and delivers
from darkness my laden soul.

I bargain, beguile, beg for ten degrees
to turn disconsolate rain into sanguine snow.
So snow now,
now
snow,
so we may play in the light of the darkest day.

Thanksgiving in AZ

11/27/2017

Family

It has been a few years since we celebrated my favorite holiday with my parents. It was so great to have this time with my brother, Courtney, and Scarlett too!

We all met down at the holiday lighting ceremony by the channel.

Scarlett led me through an awesome pool-side yoga practice.

Mom and me chat by the fire.

Uncle Adam coached us through a game of Go Fish.

It was so good to have fried turkey in my life again.

Each evening we talked all together under the stars.

Selfie Time!

Food

Of course, we spent some good times in the kitchen. For the first time, I made Adam's favorite pecan pie. I got the recipe from Kathy and it was a huge hit. I will be making this pie every year from now on. Aaron made stuffed mushrooms, Courtney whipped up some yams, Mom had the turkey puffs done early in the day, and Dad fried up the best turkey. It was all so delicious.

Golf

When we weren't hanging at home, we were on the golf course. We got five rounds in, in as many days. The best was at Emerald Canyon.

Emerald Canyon

This course is nestled in desert canyons and the most unique round of golf we have played. The course zigzags across the highway, then climbs and winds up to tees that pull the ball through canyons and over cliffs. On the fourth hole, Adam ricocheted his strike, more pinball than golf.

The Refuge

This setting was perfect, right on the lake. We had a delicious meal before our round. Into the sunset, we played on this one-time Arnold Palmer course. The place was empty, but we were happy to be there, and we'll be back again.

Lake Havasu Golf Club - East & West

The west course was more fun, for us. It was an easy breezy place to show up and get an early round of golf in. While the east course has some great views of the city and lake, the west course is more interesting. These fairways are as narrow as Emerald Canyon, but the walls are made up of houses, yikes. We fared well.

Memories of desert sunsets will continue to warm my bones despite the deep, dark December and January that await us. I'll smile when I think back to the warm weather, big family hugs, and all the good times we had.

St. Louis

11/26/2017

There is public art, history, architecture, and (of course) the arch. The arch is a wild expression of engineering and design. It was finished in 1965, the year my dad was born, and the sardine can that elevated me 630 feet evoked the space age and the promise of that time.

There is pride stacked upon historical eras, stacked upon each other. New construction is humming as a new layer establishes a contemporary take on its place along the Mississippi river. The city doesn't have too many more people than Anchorage, and it feels that way.

Matanuska Peak

9/3/2017

After ascending Matanuska I wondered where the name came from. The answer is simple and complicated. Pete LaFrance offers some beautiful insight.

We started out a little after 8am. The temperature was forecasted to be abnormally hot for this first Saturday in August.

When I was walking the first of twelve miles, I began to write this post in my head. I thought that I would report the first mile as a hefty climb straight up, but in comparison to the peak that awaited us, it was but a moderate rise.

Miles two and three are a lovely romp through rolling and wide-open alpine. We stopped for lunch at mile four.

Yoga and sustenance

Ch'atanhtnu

From far away, everything is glazed with whimsy and ease.
Pebbles to rocks, rocks to boulders,
which an ancient Titan, surely, piled one on another to mold
the slanted peak.

Mytikas is the tallest peak in Greece.
Ch'atanhtnu was the Dena'ina's name for Matanuska,
"the River from Which Trail Comes Out."
Who decides what is remembered?