We arrived an hour before sunrise. 14°. Too cold to simply park and wait. Usually we don’t have so much time to spare. Usually we go park by the Observation Deck where always other cars are parked. There we stand by water’s edge, our hands thrust deep in our pockets,...
musings from the studio and beyond ~
dawn chandler’s reflections on art and life. . . .
memories dreams reflections
a benediction
nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished ~ Lao Tzu ~ I’d been feeling nervous about an upcoming backpacking trip. Though overall I’m in good shape (thank you Peloton), I hadn’t put in a whole lot of high-altitude hiking miles this season. My “hiking legs”...
we need to talk: a word, a tattoo and a conversation
Image by Vitalii Bashkatov A year ago I got a tattoo. It's my second, my first one having been inked in 1983, when I was 18. Now I'm nearly 60. I'd been thinking about a new tattoo since listening to the audio of Celeste Headlee's book We Need to Talk: How to Have...
spring & the hardest color to paint
As a young art student I often heard that one color is especially hard to paint . Care to guess which one? For the untrained eye it can be intimidating to look out to a verdant landscape and figure out now how to differentiate and mix green. Maybe that’s why a comment...
autumn across america
Late afternoon fence line, Brush Creek Ranch, Wyoming. Photo by Dawn Chandler When I was a teenager there were two places at home where I liked to do my homework. If I really needed to concentrate — say when writing a paper — I would work at my little desk in my tiny...

the tide of awareness on the longest day of the year
As a child I always loved the summer solstice, because it meant the days were now getting longer. Think about that for a moment.If you are a human being with any awareness at all of our planet, and you were paying attention to that first statement, then you're...
letting go of home
Wednesday, June 19, 2019 would have been my parents' 65th wedding anniversary. It's also the day that I learned my childhood home has been destroyed. My home of 42 years. My tiny bedroom with the astonishing bookshelves wrapping around two walls and concealing a...