paper collage, acrylic, stamping on Lama Li sketchbook paper

When you combine a winter solstice with a Christmas celebration you get a little bit of magic. In the little town of Bodega California where there are only a few hundred residents you can step back a few centuries. That’s what my son Ben and I did on the 21st. Bodega is on the way to the beach for us, 20 minutes from here, rolling hills with sheep and cows and coastal forests, one block of town with a white church, historic buildings, fire house, restaurant, arts and crafts stores. Our friend Katya was one of the donkey handlers. It was freezing cold when we arrived and dark except for candle and moon light. We were immediately employed in the pageant – Ben to hold the flash for the photographer (another friend Jerry) and I to shake the jingle bells as we followed in the small procession, led by two unruly donkeys in Christmas attire, around the one block in town. A couple played the role of Mary and Joseph and there were violiners playing carols and a little drummer boy – a small crowd from the hippie LOVE generation. When we reached the “Casino” (local bar/restaurant) the couple knocked on the door and were turned away “because there was no room at the inn”. The crowd sighed deeply and continued on to the fire in an oil drum where, under a wooden arbor, there were hay bails where the baby Jesus soon would be born. We chanted carols accompanined by the musicians by the fire until the baby Jesus arrived, a newborn from the community, who sat with his mother on the hay bales while presents were handed out ot the children present. It felt like a different century, so sweet, simple, profound. We came home then and had our own fire (inside) and drank hot chocolates and ate cookies.

The art piece is a “contemplative sketch” that I did after the event, actually before and after. A piece of a figure sketch here, a cutout of a nectar drop, stamping on a star symbol, and then lastly the procession of Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem appeared and it all came together. The blazing inner light at the darkest time of year.