Flights Made to Order

The time has come! We are proudly accepting orders for Flight of the Mind, the 25-year retrospective and true labor of love for Anne and Marcus Thomas.

Currently, we are tracking the progress of the book, still in the care of our publisher, as it leaves the presses, receives all the finishing touches - a little gold leaf here, an embossed image there - finally to be bundled up and released into the wide world. We expect the first printing to land on our doorstep in the first week of December. All orders will be fulfilled immediately at that time, soaring straight and true to light underneath your Christmas Tree.

We know, too well, how uncertain, time, life, and the weather can be, so the arrival date is not 100% guaranteed. But there's also a chance we are being conservative with our arrival estimate. We can promise to stay in touch as the shipment of the first printing approaches. Please visit our Ordering FAQ page for detailed information on the process.

From now until October 15th, you will receive a 15% preferred customer discount. Gold and Platinum Editions include wonderful supplements to Marcus' story, such as a classy slipcover, a DVD showcasing everyday rituals and a cast of characters from life and art, and original signed prints - hummingbirds to lift the roof of your mind to heights of inspiration.

On Saturday, October 13th at 11am, we will be offering a special reading and preview of the book and DVD at Mars Hill College Homecoming.  All weekend, Marcus will be exhibiting his work in the Montague Building on the college campus. On Saturday morning, Leslee Johnson, author, will give a reading of selections accompanied by slides of the book itself. We're excited to share this glimpse of our work and love and look forward to seeing as many of our faithful readers, in so many ways our beloved community far and wide for whom we built this book, as possible.

Dark of the Moon

Tears of Time

This has been a big week for the earth and sky. Tuesday marked the first day of spring with the vernal equinox, day and night of equal length. From here on out, until autumnal equinox, the hours of light outnumber the dark ones. And today - Thursday, March 22 - the moon is new.

The new moon, also known as the "dark of the moon" is a good time for planting and starting seeds, especially now on the leading edge of spring. Plants started during this hallowed time will grow as the moon grows, magically emerging out of inert darkness, blossoming into ripe fullness to bask in the light of the sun.

So much life begins under the cover of darkness, safe and warm. Until it finds expression in the light of day - through love, art, good words, hard work and grace-full gestures.

I like to think of Marcus's mask for the Denver Hospice project as a representation of the moon's other face . . . her dark side.  This is the face we never see, but would recognize instantly as the face of subterranean wisdom that grows within our psyches - truths about life and mortality and a land beyond time. These truths need the mask of art to give them faces and permit them to speak.

What does the moon's dark face look like to you? Plant a seed with your comment below. And stay tuned for the finale of the Mask Project series. . .

Time outside of time

A sketch from How Time Flies.

We return to one of our favorite themes on leap-day 2012: time. My leap-day dream involves breaking out of the linear conception of time where seconds make up minutes and minutes make up hours and one day piles on the next in the rubble of weeks, months years. When I was younger I imagined that February 29th was a magic day, because it was so rare. In this one day, surely, the possibility of all days, past and future, exist. I could crawl through a hollow tree and end up in an alternate universe where the people didn't keep time, never ran out of time, and lived happily without ever having to worry about being late.

Another leap-day dream would be that words have colors, form, texture and the immediate deep impact that painted images do. Imagination and words falter when it comes to re-conceiving time.  Perhaps the problem is the human heartbeat, temporal bodies living eternal experiences.

Maybe this February 29th, I'll meet a raven who has stolen a pocket watch, and I can barter something precious to hitch a ride and see time from a different angle.

Nevertheless, we are running out of time to vote for Marcus's label, so take a couple heartbeats to do this and make a toast to a day that happens every once in a while.

Here is Marcus's lovely leap-day dream:
I dream of a beach worthy wheelchair and endless healthy years to enjoy.
I dream of world peas.
I am living a dream!

What's yours? Feel free to add it below and extend this day's feeling of timelessness as long as possible.

February Longing and Crayola Daydreams

Time and the weather are two elemental forces that influence human cares more than any others. The month of February intensifies this effect: the shortest month with the most infuriating weather. February teases flowers into bloom often to freeze them overnight. It brings the loveliest sunrises and the harshest winds. The four-year boon of an extra day ends up feeling just like any other day and is consumed as quickly as the rest.

But this year, with the gift of our extra day, let's vow to make February 29th a day to dream.

An interesting fact from Marcus' forthcoming book is that his first set of paints was a Crayola(R) watercolor set, bought for cheap and brought home by Anne and his sister Amanda for fun. And it was in the spirit of fun, with perhaps a little hopeful longing too, that Marcus took up the brush and began to once again color his days with creativity, wonder and imagination. Marcus's situation was as cold and inhospitable as February, but with the tease of a little art, the windows of his mind were thrown open and the promise of spring's new life - a transformation - flooded in.

And really, a set of good paints and crayons is exactly what February needs to lengthen the shadows, stretch out the hours, and bring the blush back to the world.

There is still precious time to vote for Marcus'wine label "Biltmore Winter" in the Biltmore Estate contest. Simply click the link and cast your vote.

What's your leap-year dream? Check back here on February 29th when I'll be posting dreams of all colors, and perhaps we'll have a voting contest to see which dream we'd most like to live.

Thanksgiving: Time Is a Gift

Watch time soar.

Marcus began work on the painting How Time Flies after the first couple of sessions of interviews with Leslee for his 25-year retrospective coffee-table-book.This image was taken during the creation of the painting. The raven is gaining his third dimension and appears to be tearing out of the canvas, over and beyond Marcus' pallet and implements. The pocket watch trails in flight, haplessly careening.


How Time Flies is a direct expression of Marcus' relationship with time – the revelry and ravages, the love and loss, the joy and the heartbreak, as he is (all of us really are) simultaneously blessed and held hostage by time.  In his honesty with himself, Marcus transcends his particular experience of time and touches on something universal. We see through Marcus’ own eyes something we can all recognize in our own relationship with the time of our lives.

Time around the table with friends.

We often catch ourselves lamenting the speed of time. Days, minutes, hours go by so fast, especially when we are with people we enjoy, doing work we love, creating something we believe in. We can't help but wish for more time. It's probably high time we recognized the commodity time is - we can spend it, waste it, lose it on crazy nights perhaps worth forgetting, we want to steal it, and oh if we could just stretch it out to last a little longer. . .

But time fools and foils us completely. We trick ourselves into thinking time is exhaustible when the truth about time is that we make it. Just like we make art, memories, love. "I cherish every moment," says Marcus, when he reflects on the time of his life, nailing the true spirit of Thanksgiving in his depiction of this holy theft."The raven seems like it could surpass time, and I’m hitching a ride – the fountain of life."

"An infinite perspective is the fountain of youth," Marcus says and this is what he shows us in How Time Flies. And this is what defines human thanksgiving - simultaneously blessed and held hostage.

So, here from this corner of the world to yours, wherever you may be: let us give thanks for the folks that make life and time meaningful, for good work, the people who inspire us, the moments we spend with one another . . thanks for art, and cadmium yellow, alzarin crimson, Payne's gray and cobalt blue, trickster ravens, lovers, friends, deep sky over the mystery ahead, and for time and life itself which gives us all these possibilities in which to dwell.

What are you thankful for in this moment? Add to the infinite list (into cyberspace, for which we are also thankful) below.

Kairos, the spirit of good timing, is with us

Bob films Marcus cruising through the lovely day at Lake James.

The ancient Greeks believed in two different aspects of time. Chronos embodied the passage of clock time, responsible for days, hours, minutes, the way we age. Kairos embodied the split-second opportunity, the spirit of good timing and the eternal instant. This spirit of "the right time," Kairos, is depicted balanced atop wheels with wings on his ankles, holding a sharp edge representing the "split" second in which opportunity arrives and must be seized.

As we work on capturing the last 25 years of Marcus' time creating art, we find ourselves blessed with many good moments in which we almost seem to transcend clock-time to dwell in possibility and opportunity -  moments that last a lifetime.  The spirit of Kairos hovers around us as the right people gather at the right place in the perfect time to create the book.

Lydia Inglett, Marcus, Leslee and Anne (behind the camera) discuss timing.

In the past couple weeks - how time flies! - we've begun to work with Lydia Inglett, who will design the book. That process will soon be underway and her vision is inspiring us all.

We've also spent some time in front of the camera ourselves, thanks to Bob Peck of revpictures, a talented videographer who is working with us to film the DVD portion of the project. Saturday afternoon found us all at Lake James. Vibrant leaves served as a fitting backdrop for a fireside chat which was profound and inspiring.

We cannot know what the next days, weeks and month will hold, but with the good work before us, the right people beside us, and the blessing of good timing, we know we are in for a harvest season of grand possibilities. 

Kairos, the spirit of good timing.

Happy Are the Painters

Marcus' mom, Betsy Thomas, recently presented Marcus with a slim hard-bound book she just happened to find in a used book store entitled Painting as a Pastime by Winston Churchill.

Churchill, who discovered painting late in life, revels in his discovery of the sheer pleasure of painting, describing it as a “joy ride in a paint-box.” And for this joyful journey, expectations should be left at the door, he says: “Audacity is the only ticket.”

“Painting is a companion with whom one may hope to walk a great part of life’s journey,” Mr. Churchill writes, a truth close to Marcus’ heart.  Each step is an opportunity to see more, do more and learn more.

Winston Churchill and Marcus Thomas both learned the same secret: painting transforms the hours. No matter what weight burdens the heart, or what frustration nags at the mind, no matter if infirmity cripples the body, painting releases the soul and launches it into wonder. Churchill proclaims:

The whole world is open with all its treasures. The simplest objects have their beauty. Every garden presents innumerable fascinating problems. Every land, every parish, has its own tale to tell. And there are many lands differing from each other in countless ways, and each presenting delicious variants of color, light, form and definition. Obviously, then, armed with a paint-box, one cannot be bored, one cannot be left at a loose end, one cannot ‘have several days on one’s hands.’ Good gracious! What there is to admire and how little time to see it in!

What little time indeed for all the wonder the artist's soul can hold! A daredevil at heart, game for the joy-ride painting invites, Marcus’ work gives substance to his audacity and joy, as well as his poetic soul. As he faithfully takes up his brush, cherishing each moment, time itself, ordinary and mundane, begins to glow golden.

“Happy are the painters," declares Mr. Churchill, "for they shall not be lonely. Light and color, peace and hope, will keep them company to the end, or almost to the end, of the day." He concludes his own testament to the art of painting with a exhortation strikingly similar to Marcus’ philosophy of life: “Go out into the sunlight and be happy with what you see.”

Making Time for Walden - Cabin in the Woods

Marcus and I are reading Thoreau's Walden or Life in the Woods in the midst of trying times.

I bought my copy of Walden and Other Writings from The Strand bookstore in New York City in September of 2000, when I was terribly homesick for the mountains of North Carolina. When I picked it up yesterday, for the first time in years (not counting unpacking and packing it) I found within the pages, in the chapter called "Solitude" pictures of my long-gone friend Ishmael and the garden we grew together on the Bruce Farm in Mars Hill, NC. Calvin Chandler, who had cows and a tractor, plowed and raked over the soil for me - half an acre worth - and I planned to grow enough vegetables to keep students and families of Mars Hill in fresh vegetables all season. The task would prove much easier to dream than to realize - not so much the growing (I had the Ishmael, with about 7o years of gardening experience, to help me) but what to do with all the vegetables and how to get my classmates to come shovel manure in the name of community.

So mostly, it was just me and Ish at the garden. The photos are a result of my excitement at the vast, plowed expanses of what would be my garden. It was the fall of 1993, and I was starting a garden of greens and crimson clover. Ish and I were talking about how to lay everything out, and I caught a great crooked picture on a little disposable camera of Ish walking off a row, followed by two scrappy beagles, whose names I can't remember but know that I have recorded in a journal somewhere in the pink liquorstore box in my closet here in South Asheville, in the late summer of 2011.

Ishmael died in the late nineties, when I was living in New York. The place where our garden was is, last I checked, an embankment that serves as an entrance to a gated community, now starting to show the age, despair and neglect of the recent few years.

So what does all this have to do with work on Marcus' 25- year retrospective? Well, this remains to be seen, but I suspect it's because a retrospective is, necessarily, a lot about time, timing, looking back and wondering. It involves asking, sometimes too, what to make of a diminshed thing - whether we're talking about the natural world we once knew, or the people we used to be. That's the hard part. But. A retrospective well done can have a happy ending, and help us re-member ourselves as surely as we see the same person in the mirror when we pause to look ourself in the eye, every time.

Plus, in the middle of August, really, especially, who doesn't dream of retreating to a remote cabin in the woods, to study the of late summer drone of crickets and cicada, and to stare at the deepening sky, trying to catch and name that particular shade of blue. Closest thing to hitching a ride on the watch in the detail of Marcus' "The Watch" and flying into that deep color blue.

In hectic times like these, it's good to have some sort of retreat, a cabin in the woods to re-member. Maybe that's reading a book you once loved, or losing yourself in an art, the practice of making something. And then, added to that, an invitation to a good friend's "cabin" in the woods wouldn't hurt.

Marcus writes:

Walden

My cabin in the woods:
No roof.
No walls.
Canvas provides shelter from the cold,
Paint fuels the warmth,
brush along,
Invitation only!

-----------------------August 2011

Come visit us here anytime. Tell us how you retro-spect and re-member. And share where you found your "cabin in the woods" where you make the time, in these times, to practice your art, whatever it is you practice.

Dwell in Possibility: Religion, Science and the Art of Metaphor

Detail from the painting titled "The Watch"

In The Life of the Skies, Jonathan Rosen talks a lot about the fracturing of the world (or the western mind) that happened after Darwin. It's a fracture Rosen himself is still trying to heal, through birdwatching as an mediating activity - one that makes people look up and see. For Rosen, as for many of us who love birds, what we see when we look up is the glory of a bird, but also all that the bird represents - literally, spiritually. Metaphorically.


He talks a lot about naturalists of that time - Darwin, Alfred Lord Wallace. And about how they also sought the divine in their work, whether this was made explicit, or not. Wallace, for example, spent years on the Malay Archipelago before he finally found the bird that sent him on this quest - the bird of paradise - a bird in which the natural and the spiritual seem to meet by virtue of a name!

Rosen uses poetry to really bring out the spiritual aspect of birding. He connects Alfred Lord Wallace's quest and love with Wallace Steven's mystical bird, the one in "Of Mere Being" that sings "in the palm at the end of the mind." Rosen makes a good distinction we really appreciate between the materialist versus naturalist.

Marcus responds to this idea in a way that reminds us of poetry, reflecting on his life, confined, yet metaphorically free through the natural world he creates in art. The following words to the conclusion of the post are his thoughts, shared with you. The featured image is a detail from his current work, the painting, titled "The Watch," which you can see in progress in the slideshow to the right:

My confined life is metaphorical happiness.
I should be miserable because?

But, I do not accept misery as a solution.

Self value is part of measuring happiness.
I have purpose, the result is bliss.

Emily Dickinson pops up the the book Life of the Skies too. Her poem, "I dwell in Possibility" evoked this response:

Why not live a life without restriction.
An infinite perspective is the fountain of youth.
Which feeds our hunger to search in a spiritual and or scientific way.

I love the intertwined idea of science and religion. Because I breathe the metaphorical, my acceptance of both is satisfying. I am not grasping for Big answers! Content with the obvious, focusing on MY metaphorical foot print and embracing what is real.
This is my consumption!
Reality is the foundation, for I live in an abstract frame.
Escape through paint, brush and love? YOU BET! If your mind becomes bored with your heart, you are defeated.
Rock on!