Thursday, November 17, 2011

Mary Randlett (Spider, Wall of Art), now 87

With Mary Randlett, an iconic NW nature photographer.

I just returned from a journey of the heart, voyage du cœur, and when we put it into another language, it doesn't hurt so much. Maybe...But opening up, having feelings about old friends, mentors when we are actually with them--seeing firsthand the passage of time and experience--is a bit frightening partly because it reveals our own journey even as we are sharing "their moment."  

It cannot be described as fun, although Mary and I laughed a lot in the car as she drove me to Ashford, then Whidbey Island, WA, to visit Trudy Sundberg, a woman I had known and admired in my late 20s as a Navy wife before I had a 30-year job with the National Park Service, then retired in 2005. We never spoke again for over 30 years. Then, recently, we connected by e-mail.  Photo of  Trudy Sundberg with the blogger at the end of this article.

Back to Olympia, WA. When I stayed with Mary Randlett for four nights and slept on a couch in the living room, I viewed a wall of art (mostly paintings) given to her over the years...I had my own bathroom. It included a black spider. She would have nixed it, having more important things to do, perhaps.  She said, "it won't last; it can't get out."  Well, it spun a thread and the next morning, was hanging by it. Later, got out; then, went back in. I took it out the next day and gave it a new room in her place. She'll never know and the spider moved on.  Is this a lesson? Not sure...

Here is a sonnet I wrote for Mary and read it to her. She said, "amazing," but wasn't really listening except to the last two lines. Then, she forgot it. That's OK. Sharing it anyway. The clothespins are used to dry her photos.

One wall of art in Mary's living room.

Mary dry mounting a photo.

Mary's Wall of Art, Spider, Creativity

Up and drinking coffee--without fat;
her spider spun a thread, now hanging there.
I'm pacing, looking thinking this and that--
and seeing Mary's beauty everywhere.

How we all survive is news to me!
I thought that spider gave up, crisp and dead,
its blackness dulled by night. But now I see
he's hanging; found his peace; conveys no dread.

Creative minds envelop space and time--
Reach out; embrace; devour; try to keep
that perfect moment like a perfect rhyme,
then feel it slip away, return in sleep.

She's not awake, but soon she'll turn her eye
to clouds and earth, to mountains in the sky.

Sonnet:  Kay Weeks for Mary Randlett  11.12.11

Link below:  Some of Mary Randlett's incredible photographs...high and white

Kay with Trudy Sundberg on Whidbey Island. Trudy
just published a book and is still absolutely amazing. Mary
and I had lunch with her and talked energetically, then
back to Olympia.  About seven hours on the road 
with two ferry rides. In the rain...


Kay Weeks said...

Comments online in Facebook or to my personal e-mail...Kay

Anonymous said...

great blog, kaydi. i loved your poem, a real show stopper.

Lora Robertson
in Amalfi, IT

Anonymous said...

Appreciated your account of your visit with Trudy and thoughts about time spent with two friends in their 80s.

Mary Berglund
St. Petersburg, FL

Anonymous said...

Dear Kay,

...Thank you for making your Journey of the Heart available to me. "Creative minds envelop space and time" and you are continually doing that! Your re-union with your friends touched you deeply, perhaps touched the joy that lies beyond and beneath feelings. Your reverence for life, and the life of the spider touched me.

Elaine in MA

Anonymous said...

Kay, I enjoyed reading your blog. You always have creative and interesting points of view. Thanks for sharing.

Happy Thanksgiving my friend.

An NPS friend from Washington, DC

Anonymous said...

Kay..What a wonderful trip and what a blesing for Mary and Trudy. I loved the sonnet. Great look so young. Harve in Hanoi. your blogs are a breath of fresh air, a river in the desert and a way in the wilderness. My daughter Jenny comes to Hanoi for three weeks in mid December. She was two when we were all in Beeville. I can open your bogs in the office but not in my apt.