HEEYO BIRD, DITTO BIRD

Do you remember "No Problem Telling Them Apart" (April 14 post), in which I'd mistaken a Dusky Thrush for another bird? THIS is the friend I thought I was drawing! Debonair, isn't he? I call him "Hero", because the Japanese name is the "Heeyo - bird", for its signature call.

I don't say "HEEYO," but "DITTO." That is, once after a friend's prayer, feeling "me too," I said, "ditto, God," My friends chuckled because that was the first time they'd heard anybody use it like that.

I guess it felt natural to use "ditto" because much of my communicating with God is done while journaling--writing.

Got it. New verse to that song: "His eye is on the Heeyo!"

WHAT'S HE DOING?!

I don't know why, but the turtles at Duck Pond are funny. I didn't know it happened in the animal kingdom too--I thought it was only humans that you found strange people that lived in certain places, but...

I'm serious. If you ask the other animals in the rest of the park, they'll all tell you the turtles at that pond are a little different. Oh yeah...I forgot; animals don't talk. But really. I've seen turtles there in the strangest poses or even drying off in the rain!

I had to post this drawing I made of this turtle. I've seen quite a few turtles who anchor themselves onto a boulder with their front appendages then lift their back legs up and let the air flow through, but this basker was a nonconformist. He apparently made sure he wasn't going to fall over after getting situated then pulled his FRONT legs back into his shell and basked that way!

I am glad God deals with us as individuals, aren't you? Some of us are strange turtles!

SEE?

Sept. last year, I did this thing called "Gesture Drawing", where you try to capture the animals' personalities more than try to draw them accurately. Well, with animals like cats and dogs, maybe you can see personality more readily, I felt, but it takes a lot more help from God to understand fish, birds, and insects.

I always did a little warm-up with something inanimate before trying to draw animals. One of those warm-ups wasn't exactly alive, but it moved--and altho' it was just a warm-up scribble in monotone, the longer I looked at it, the more I liked it. No, that's not a whale, but the fountain at Duck Pond.

In Oct., I decided to try my hand at realistic portraiture, and no one would get upset at me for making an unflattering picture if I drew MYSELF, right? I figure that's why a lot of artists do a lot of self-portraits. There's a guarantee there will always be someone to pose, plus the model will never get angry at you!

(I know ONE Person Who NEVER gets angry with me no matter what I do! )

Anyway, I tried drawing myself. But I tell you, I should stick to doing gesture drawing warm-ups and testing new markers...

TEAR-GLEANING HULA

It seems drawings I spend a lot of time on, deciding to make a real work of art turn out to be  disappointments, whereas the ones that were really whipped out in relatively little time often surprise me.

The time last year, for example. I had wanted to try out the markers bought at a nearby stationery store. I pulled out a wedding special photo I wanted to draw and saw the markers I had...dabbled on colors here and there...it was the first time I'd done anything without a pencil under drawing. But when I was finished--and it was within an hour--I think the sketch felt more motion than the ones before it, altho' it had been something simple, to experiment with brands I had never used before.

I need to explain. The groom was from Hawaii, and the special music had been a hula praise about God's leading. The mother, notified she had cancer, had undergone treatments and got well enough to attend the ceremony. The father, who officiated the proceedings, was in tears by the end of the music. So you can see it wasn't just any old hula dancer I wanted to sketch!

And I'm glad God let me do so--even if it was the first time ever to do it without a pencil sketch to guide me. I decided from then on I wouldn't use that step--I found out afterwards that a lot of artists don't. I didn't know that.

BLOOMING DESPITE THE SHADE

"Wow; nice sketch," a teenager said, politely commenting as he pushed his bicycle across the bridge.

I'd seen down there at the bottom of the gulley a tiny flower growing out of the wall and couldn't help myself--I had to draw it. Everyone admired the pretty blossoms at the front of the park, not here at the gate in the back where you didn't get much sunlight in the Irrigation Ditch.

But in that world of grays and browns, a small magenta pom pom turned its face toward the sun and was smiling! I looked carefully, and even smaller blossoms below its collar (I'll call it that) seemed to be depending on it for their cheer too.

Do others--family members, perhaps--look up because of me, or do I smile only when it's sunny?

NEVER TOO OLD OR LATE

Granted, artists Uchihara (oil paintings) and Bokunen (woodblock prints) were in their 70's, but hadn't both gotten started when they were young? A far cry from me, who started in my 60's. But several days ago, I found a person who began painting and drawing when he was 50's-60's!

"It's never too late;" he said. "just get started." Using his past experience as schoolteacher, he now teaches art online, explaining concepts of perspective, structure, composition to other artists. "Decide what you want to do, then don't look for shortcuts;" he stresses; "then just get the FUNDAMENTALS."

I remember, as a Christian, thinking I could "move on" from the mundane "fundamentals", of wanting to think about discipleship, forgiveness, spirit-filling, you know, mature things like that. But I realized everything came back to the Cross. It's the Gospel.

Nope--I'm never too old for the fundamentals. And it's never too late to really get going with them either.

MOSQUITOS TOO--REALLY?

"His Eye is on the Sparrow, and even the Fly...but a MOSQUITO?"...and You want me to sketch it?!

When I went to the park Sat., a crane fly--an insect that looks like a giant mosquito--came up to me and posed for a drawing. Those things don't bite and have very short life spans once they reach maturity, so I'd become a little sympathetic towards them--altho' I detest mosquitos. But when I tried to do the actual sketch, nothing worked. It was one of those days, I guessed.

The next day, I noticed a black speck above the bed...not a crane fly, but an actual Mosquito!

"I sketch you; you don't bite me tonight; deal?" It made no promises but stayed still while I took photos then displayed it on the laptop screen to use fineliner and brushtip pens to draw it. Some human races lean more towards art while others see it as impractical. It's the same with insects: most butterflies, dragonflies, and bees seem to want to be drawn, but in the past, mosquitos don't care much about it. I wondered how this one would be.

His eye is on the weakest ones...but the Oppressors too, and He wants us to pray for their blessing?!

BUT NOT AFTER 20 YEARS!

When I went to the park yesterday, I think it was the exact same turtles who came to the exact same spot the exact same way as before at the Irrigation Ditch wanting to be sketched again.

"I can't keep drawing you guys." I told them. "Do you know how many I've done of turtles swimming here?" It seemed they started swimming around in circles like they knew what I was saying but still wanted to be sketched, didn't really want to leave either. So...

I ended up drawing just one, not all of them. And it wasn't a mature turtle, but one of the little ones...but it was a make-believe picture, I guess, because it got the shell of one of the big senior swimmers! I think the face looks like it's trying to scramble out of the pond, saying the shell's much too big & bulky for it.

Okay, okay. The truth of the matter is, I just drew the shell too big. The animals are patient with my developing drawing skills. But if I keep drawing the same way after 20 years, that WILL be a problem!

The FROG made me post that picture!

I realized why I wanted to post the picture of the Besses' AkaShiso in yesterday's post. It was seeing that toad! It sparked memories of what happened last year.

I'd been sketching the flowers along the side of the pond for a background for the frog picture when I noticed a tiny enamel green bug with red wings and white pompoms. It lifted its leg as if to say, "draw me too!"

"Thanks sweetie, but you're much too small." When I saw it wouldn't be waved away, I carefully lowered its leg with my pen. I was sure the bug would fly away if I touched it.

But like a toddler who wouldn't take "no" for an answer, he lifted his leg again. Part of me wanted to laugh at the insect; part of me wanted to marvel at the ridiculousness of my situation; and a big part of me said, "Nobody would believe me if I told them this happened!" so I took a snapshot with my cell. It's times like this I wish I had a better-quality camera than my old flip-phone. I hear Smartphones nowadays do better than high-end compact cameras.

But Michael and DeeAnne Bess believed me right away. After all, they'd become friends with some bumblebees recently and eagerly told me about how gentle they were. Many people are afraid bees sting, but the other day, DeeAnne had lifted a leaf to find a sleeping bee; stroked its back; and it simply lifted one of its legs to reach back and touch her finger.

Some don't believe insects and humans can have that kind of contact. The most intelligent minds could stack up arguments about how it isn't logically or scientifically possible; and neither the Besses nor I would be able to refute their words.

But...that wouldn't change what we experienced.

PYTE, PTEY, TYPE!

The other day, I saw the music video of the Typewriter (yes, I grew up in the day we listened for the "ding" of the bell when nearing the end of the line and threw the carriage to type the next line), and it reminded me of the hours practicing typing.

I'd composed the poem below then. With electronic word processing at our fingertips (literally), we don't see those old typewriters anymore. And since we don't study typing the same way, I thought it wouldn't make a lot of sense to show something written about an outdated technology.

But maybe there are some readers who would enjoy it, so I'll post the poem, even if it doesn't make a lot of sense today. (Besides, we do a lot of things that don't really make sense.)

  

1. When  I try to type, I always pyte! / Why can't I ever get it right? 

Feet Flat on the floor--Try it once more-- / I'll type like I've never typed before.

          2.I rapidly read the words I need / And race at a pace of the highest speed.

I'm in a trance--my fingers dance-- / Quickly, I turn to take a glance.

But when I look back, I see I've lost track / Of where I was. Panicked, I whack

A key anyway, and to my dismay. / Instead of "type", I have "ptey"!

3. So I awoke with a gulping choke / And bitterly glared at my misstroke.

Well, I'll not fret; I'm not beat yet. / I'll try it again with the right mindset.

Keep posture erect; proper symbols select. / EYES OFF THE KEYS! It'll come out correct!

My brows I'll wipe; work without a gripe; / And click, click, click...

'TIL I'VE LEARNED TO TYPE!

 

The illustration on this post? It's the "Aka Shiso" plant. DeeAnne and Michael Bess discovered it while doing missionary work in Japan then grew and sold it in the U.S. several months ago when raising money for struggling folk. It has nothing to do with the poem. But like I said, some of the things we do make no sense, do they?

To tell you the truth, I really wanted to tell you about my friends.

It was a Toad I spotted

They usually come out in May. So from the end of April, I was looking for them, but I didn't see any. The beginning of May, and there weren't any either. The 2nd, 3rd, 4th...

And yesterday, the 17th--finally--they came! I was looking at the turtles in the Irrigation Ditch when I heard their familiar call. I found myself saying to the turtles that I'd be right back as I hurried away, heart dancing, turning on my camera. I'd heard them; but would I be able to spot them?

I intently scanned the pond's surface, now covered with lily pads. I knew I had to be careful, because the coloring was just like the lily pads, and I could be staring right at one and not know it if I looked too quickly.

There! A Toad! Now that I could see it, it looked so plainly visible.

"Took you long enough." it seemed to say.

I find it hard to fathom that the Sovereign of the universe would pass His eyes over the whole earth, looking for those who seek Him. "The eyes of the LORD run to and fro throughout the whole earth to show Himself strong in the behalf of them whose heart is perfect towards him."

HANG ONTO YOUR FATHER

"Don't let go."

Daddy's big toe, those coral formations, the jello-like clear water--I remembered them as I sketched. Yesterday, I made a quick copy of Isao Uchihara's beautiful painting of Manza Mo, one of Okinawa's coral shores. God sent along his works to whisper encouragement to me--from his bio, I surmised he would be in his 70's. Maybe I could draw like that one day, but for now, I was happy making this, a bookmark.

Oh--I didn't tell you the reason for the "Don't let go," did I? When the family went to the beach, sometimes Daddy told us areas near coral reefs seem shallow but sometimes drop off into steep cliffs, and you can find yourself in water over your head. The only way we girls--we couldn't swim then--were allowed to go there was if we promised to hold onto Daddy's feet while he swam on his back.

You can say it was like slow body surfing and water skiing for a little girl like me, being towed around like that!

To me, Daddy was a strong swimmer (I didn't know he'd taught himself), and if a wave or shark or jellyfish came and put me in danger, I knew Daddy would come and save me. So I was all right, as long as I held onto him. No matter what, I didn't let go of Daddy's foot.

I can just cling, Even Jacob, whose hip was out of joint, could manage to do that. He saw a "big wave coming", and said, unless I know I have Your help, I'm sunk! And he'd held on with all his might.

A Few More from February, Actually

Here are several other experiences from my short time in Okinawa. Let me post their drawings first then tell you a little about the multiple drawings in the second.

The first is a quick sketch I did of a young mother my sister Janice met on the plane on her way to Okinawa. Apparently, she is an Okinawan married to an American, sat down at the piano in our living room--Janice asked her to sing and play for us, and when I saw her child's response and saw Janice pick her up and rock her, I couldn't stop myself from drawing the scene.

Junko Filllmer, the second person, also married to an American, took Janice and me to a historic site as well as to an art museum on a day when Joyce was busy with music lessons. The historic site she took us to was an old castle ruin with beautiful ocean view.

The samurai character in the top left? Videos showed how an Okinawan lord, Amawari, long thought to be a traitor, might have actually been a hero! God seemed to whisper: "Sometimes, truth can be unearthed decades later--sometimes. But your Everlasting Father sees all the time what is happening; don't worry about what other people think and just live for My Eyes."

Another reason this was exciting is because Junko and the Amawari account continued something "My brother" Brian told me about in Ishigaki a few days earlier. I e-mailed Brian and told him I heard the entire story.

Bokuten, a gifted Okinawan blockprint artist, was featured at the art gallery Junko took us to. My sister Janice went shopping at shops nearby and let art lovers Junko and me spend as much time as we wanted ogling all his things (he does more than just blockprints).

Oh, of course his work was way better than my drawing of it; It's just that the blue rock thrush (iso hiyo dori) showed up outside the window at the place Junko took us to for lunch, and it was in one of Bokuten's prints, so I just wanted to post it here. Besides, that's my favorite theme of Bokuten' works: coming out of the shadows onto a sunlit beach area.

Anyway, thank you, Lord, for such an enjoyable day.

I didn't know what I was doing

"Mew." Cats don't fly. Why was that sound coming from my 2nd-story window?

When I stuck my head out the window and looked down, I saw a kitten who'd found another kitten--a newborn--and, mistaking it for a mouse, was playing with it, flinging it up in the air. At the top of the arc, the frightened kitty had let out a little scream--which I had heard.

"Hey, stop that!" I pulled on garden gloves and brought the poor thing into our apartment--in a shoebox my daughter had emptied then lined with a towel. My husband had rushed to the pet store for feeding supplies. The kitten was so small. The umbilical cord was still attached when we found it, and it was still a bit moist, but it was all fluffy in a few hours. Unfortunately, its back was broken, and there was little we could do; my husband had to bury it the next day.

My daughter, a cat lover, surprised me with her response. She held absolutely no anger towards the larger kitten who was probably responsible for hurting the newborn; knew it had acted out of ignorance. Instead, she loved it and got it to eat out of her hand and crawl on her shoulders. When we moved, my daughter's regret was that she'd have to part with her new kitty friend.

Here's the kitty at the top landing of the apartment steps. If he could talk, I think the kitty might've said, "I'm really sorry about that newborn; I didn't know what I was doing."

Years later, my husband and I went back to that old neighborhood, and we saw some cats. They ran away when we neared them--all but one. It was skinnier and scruffier, but yes, it was that specially loved kitty.

We human critters killed the Son of Man, Who prayed, "Father, forgive them; they don't know what they're doing." And the Father's response was to love us in a special way too.

SLUGS AND SMILES

"A caterpillar? Yuck!" or, "A leech? You can't be serious!"

If I wanted to post pictures of just creeping creatures, maybe viewers would wrinkle their faces in disbelief. But surely, readers would be more forgiving of a toddler peering at a Slug on a wall, wouldn't they? (Especially if that toddler happened to be my grandson Yusei, the most adorable toddler in the universe, right? J) This was drawn from a video my daughter sent me yesterday.

Somehow even a Slug doesn't look so bad when your heart is smiling.

GOOD THING I BROUGHT THIS

Here's a pic from 2 years ago: a person going home after pool-walking (I did a lot of it then too), looking up at the sky and putting up an umbrella. We enjoy our time in the water but then have aversion to getting wet?!

We don't really know ourselves what is good--of course, what seems attractive could actually be harmful too. Wouldn't it make more sense to receive gratefully whatever a Heavenly Father gives us?

DARLING STARLING

Where did I get the idea it was an autumn bird? The starling has been around quite a bit awhile now.

The other day, I sketched one looking towards the top of a tree at Far End.

These birds, like the crows, don't hold still for very long. For today's picture, I tried to stare hard at two starlings so I could sketch them quickly and touch it up later, but for one of the birds, I ended up sketching only the shell, and it looks more like the outline of a sparrow than a starling.

I wonder if Starling chicks look a little like sparrows? I wonder if I can pretend? Nah...

AMBITIOUS ADAN ART?

This is the Adan, the pineapple-like fruit that grows on trees that can be found along most beaches on Okinawa. I tried to draw one I'd photographed near the place my sisters and I had our picnic before spending a night at the resort in Feb (Feb.15 post).

It was my first attempt at drawing a sunbeam along with that tiny visual prism-thingy, but it didn't turn out at all like I wanted...oh well...everyone's gotta start somewhere. You can't grow if you don't wanna make stupid mistakes trying things you don't know how because you never did it before.

I am glad God, to whom nothing is new, is so gentle in bringing everything down to a level I understand; then patient as I try to learn, and I can feel comfortable about sharing anything with Him--He's never laughed at me I don't know what I'd do if I had a God who expected me to get it right all the time! I think I'd either be a phony or a nervous wreck.

Thank you for praying for Joyce. The doctor has given her medicine to take at home and will give her another checkup in June, so she will begin her round of churches in a little over a week now--whew.

LEFT ALONE, I'D GET LIKE...ACK!

Yes, we remembered those nasturtiums in the yard. My younger sister and I, in our junior high years, would sneak up on the rooftop with our guitar and ukulele and sing for hours, to those flowers.

At the end of January, when my sisters and I were all together again in Okinawa, we went back to the place where the old house used to be. It was difficult to even find the road that turned into the street the house was on. It's so narrow now. Before, there were two huge tombs on one side and a car wash on the other.

But now, one of the tombs is completely gone, and the other is so unkempt, it's apparent that the custodian found need himself for a tomb too.

All talking stopped when we saw the structures in front of us. There were no flowers brightening yards, but weeds fighting each other, and no rich, dark soil, but hard, dry concrete with sand and crumbling rock.

Now I see why Mommy spent hours weeding, trimming, fertilizing, caring for the yard. If she'd left it alone, it would've looked like what we were looking at.

Sometimes I wished God would leave me alone. I hope He never grants that kind of wish.

LATE BIRD

I really wanted to draw this for Koree but couldn't get it done in time for posting it for the Growing Fish post on May 3. It's there now. Sorry I was a little late, Koree.

I've heard the early bird catches the worm. Well, the late bird caught a large fish, so maybe that wasn't so bad?

June...you got it all wrong...

NEIL MEDAKA

"But even if you can draw an insect ABOVE the water, or others ON ITS SURFACE, then...would you try drawing something UNDERwater?" Way down there in the inky shadows, something was moving. "People who come to the park see carp and big fish that breach, but most don't notice us little guys, I was almost sure I heard murmured from Neil the Medaka.

I've been drawing seriously for only 2 years, but I can at least try to make a drawing of the minnow-like killifish. It would be so easy for our Infinite Creator to trace its teensy weeny fins weaving its way between the seaweeds, but it was terribly difficult for me, and this is the best I could do. Sorry, Neil.

I gave him his name because he claims to be a musician from twanging on strings of seaweed and composing lyrics like the following:

* In the water, the murky water/the spider creeps tonight (he was thinking of the water spider that captures medakas who dare swim shallow waters--Mar.30 post)

* Breaching up is hard to do.(the big fish, of course)

Okay. To be totally honest, it was super hot today, so I didn't even go to the park. This is a drawing from last year, when Neil was swimming at Step Creek, on the other side of the park.

There. Got that off my conscience.

Perspective Changes Lots of Things

"You sketched the blue Kawasemi and the blue-vented butterfly. Can you draw me? I'm blue too!" I seemed to hear, "...but you can't see me, can you?"

Oh. There, near the bottom of the twig in the water, was a dainty damselfly the thickness of a thread.

"Most people won't draw or photograph something as small as me either..." Did I sense the damselfly sigh? "Oh well; just thot I'd ask."

"Okay; okay. Tell you what. I'll draw you up close, so you'll look real big." The damselfly wasn't sure she should let herself hope.

And...see? The tiny thing looks bigger than the butterfly or Kawasemi!

HARVEY FLY

It's "Golden Week" when the park is full of families enjoying holiday vacation together for a few days.

I was looking at turtles today when a father came shouting to his kids a bee had come around and shuffled them off to a safer place. But when I really saw the black-and-yellow critter flying around the flowers, I had to sketch it!

"Aren't you scared of bees?" it seemed to say.

I laughed. It was a Hoverfly! Bee-like markings make much wildlife wary of it too, but the friendly little thing actually has no stinger. Without these markings, this insect would have a hard time going about eating and taking care of daily work, but God sees to it it's given necessary protection.

"His Eye is on the Sparrow," I've heard sung. What about, "His eye is on the FLY/and He cares for such as I"?

Would you pray for my missionary sister Joyce back in the U.S, about to start furlough? It seems she may have diverticulitis. She was hospitalized for abdominal pain in Okinawa just before time to go overseas but God took the pain away then. The discomfort has returned, and Joyce sees the doctor tomorrow.

At best, this can be treated with antibiotics while she runs around churches as planned. The more serious scenario may include bedrest, hospitalization, even surgery.

So...if my Heavenly Father would care for a hoverfly, of course He'd watch over my sister, right?

FINCHY HEARS "KOREE" TOLD

"Actually, I was listening to yesterday's story about Koree." It was Finchy!

A darling Japanese Finch posed for me on the slope at Far End last month. I wanted to show it the drawing was finished but didn't know where it lived. He must've come back to the same tree from time to time--including yesterday and happened to hear the story!

KOREE AND THE GROWING FISH

It was about Koree the Cormorant, who was walking through the woods with Kuri, his kindhearted human brother, when they heard a faint "splish". They stopped and listened, heard it again, then turned to see what was causing the sound. It was a teeny tiny fish in a rusty pot.

"Poor little guy. Maybe a little bigger than the hook that caught him," Kuri thought, and gave it some crumbs of bread from what he and Koree were going to snack on later.

A little boy holding a fishing rod cleared his throat. "What are you doing? That's my fish," he asked; "I need to take it home for soup tonight."

Kuri had heard some poor people had come to live in the shack nearby--this boy and his mother, maybe? But even gentle Kuri could see that.they weren't going to get very much fish from what was in that pot! 

 

"You won't catch big fish in that pond;" he told the new boy. "My father, a fisherman, goes out deep for bigger fish. Koree our cormorant here, helps catch them. Right, Koree? Koree?" But he was gone.

Kuri and the new boy ran to the edge of the water and began looking for any sign of the bird. Where could he have gone?

"Koree!" they called.

Suddenly, the new boy's stomach let out a huge growl. The boys looked at each other for a second, then burst out laughing.

"No; that's not your bird!" the boy said. "That was my stomach. I haven't eaten anything in a while."

"Here," Koree handed him the rest of his bread. "Sorry it's only leftover. I broke off some to give to your fishy."

As Kuri handed the boy his bread, he saw a familiar black shadow motioning to him from the trees. He saw the lump in Koree's throat as well as his gestures toward the pot and knew exactly what the cormorant wanted him to do. He had seen his fisherman father do it many times.

When the new boy came to see what Kuri was looking at, he was amazed. That little fish had grown into a huge, fat one!

"Wow, fish grow real fast, don't they," Kuri said. He smiled at Koree hiding in the woods and stood up to leave. The little boy, mouth open, kept blinking at the pot.

"Have a nice supper tonight," Kuri said; "I must go now and find my cormorant."

END

----------------------------

The species pictured at the Irrigation Ditch are:

1. Turtle
2. Lizard
3. Hoverfly (Bee)
4. Butterfly
5. Damselfly (Dragonfly)
6. Carp (back of one, anyway)
7. Spider
8. Pond Skimmer                 ...How did you do?

Tomorrow's post will be about a critter of the species #3!

The Only Way To Get Stories

There was only one turtle, but I got started anyway. It didn't take long for another to join him. And another. A few minutes later, I heard the Kawasemi bird's whistle and looked over at the branch to the side--sure enough, Peter had come too!

I'd written a second "Koree the Cormorant" story, this time "Koree and the Growing Fish", and I went to Far End to tell it to him, but only the turtle was there. But he seemed to want to hear it, so I told him. But by the time I was done, it seemed there were at least half a dozen turtles and several other critters of that Far End pond who heard the story. I asked the turtles to tell the cormorant a story's been written about him, but maybe I didn't need to ask them specifically; I'm sure he'll hear about it somewhere.

After I was done at Far End, I went to my buddies at the dark and dingy Irrigation Ditch--never want to forget them--to tell them the story too. I realized, after I got there, a lot of the turtles at Far End followed me.

"But you just heard the story," I said to them.

I forgot they can't read books or listen to recordings whenever they want to recall a tale; the only time they can get it is when they hear it told live--mebbe that's why animals are NEVER critical of the raunchiest storytelling!

There are 8 species pictured here: can you pick them out? (The answer will be posted after Koree's story tomorrow.)

OH TO GET THE BEST

I think I got the best one.

When my sisters and I went to Uncle Seiko's in Feb, our cousin Chieko gave each of us handmade gifts. To one sister, she gave an article sewn in a time-consuming "Cathedral Window" patchwork style. My other sister got a set of beautiful coasters for entertaining company. My gift was a quilted pouch made of fabrics from things belonging to her mother, with a sturdy zipper pull.

It's not just the fact that I use that pouch to put in some sketching utensils and take it with me everywhere I go and have made 64 drawings with it since I got it--and I love that zipper pull!

Chieko doesn't realize how much I loved her mother. She had pulled me to the side from time to time to ask me to pray with her from years back...from years before Uncle Seiko got saved, years before some of the grandkids were born, some adoptions had taken place, when they were still living in the old wooden traditional house. So when she told me of what the pouch was made, that meant more to me than if she'd gone out and bought an expensive one at a leather goods store.

But a pouch is just a pouch, where moth will eat through the lovely quilting and rust will do its work on even that zipper pull I so love. Friday was Uncle Seiko's funeral. Oh that my cousins would prepare for the time when moth and rust will be no more! 

THAT B-FLY! "That Human!"

Remember the black butterfly in the April 21 post? I can't say I'm sure insects talk to each other, but...

Several days ago during my walk thru' the park, I saw and began sketching another beautiful black butterfly with blue vents. Well, a man came walking down the path, scaring it away. I said to myself it had been too good to be true and was about to put away my things, when the butterfly came back! I resumed my drawing, but a woman came from the opposite direction, making the butterfly flutter away. This footpath was made for humans; I berated myself. I couldn't expect to draw a butterfly...but I found myself open-mouthed as it came back to the same spot almost as if to say, "Draw me NOW!"

This butterfly...people can call me funny in the head; I really have no other way of explaining it but to say it intentionally, consciously, wanted to be drawn. And is it in my imagination? Having seen how black butterflies usually act, I think the other one actually told it there was a human--me--who will draw its picture. As I oohed and aahed at the pretty design, it strained to hold the wings open for me, which I then sketched as quickly as I could.

It still awes me how God could come up with so many different colors and patterns I see in wildlife...I wonder if critters ever marvel at how there are so many strange types of humans?