Next up in the Mind Games book is a metamorphosis “game’ about finding and communing and becoming one with ones animal spirit. The guided instructions are linked HERE and posted on the Compass Rose page.

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In the 90’s I served on the Access Committee for the Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco. In that capacity, in conjunction with exhibitions, I conducted workshops for teachers/enablers who work with disabled and special education students, seniors in day care or convalescent facilities and people with mental and physical challenges. In preparation for the workshops, I was given an insiders look at the art, up close and behind the scenes.

I had only known Audubon through the version of The Birds of America book I had, that measured a scant 14” x 10.” So when the Audubon paintings came to town, to the DeYoung, John James Audubon: The Watercolors for The Birds of America, Feb 3- April 14 1996 it was a life-changing experience to see in person the enormity of his double elephant folio pages measuring in at 39 1/4 ” x 26 1/4” with the birds depicted life-size. Although the prints are a wonder to behold, the only way to see the delicacy of his hand work is in the original and it takes a keen eye to be able to discern some of his techniques.

I had always only thought about Audubon’s as “prints.” It was a revelation to see his original artworks and to compare with the hand-colored engavings we have come to know in the folio plates.

It was a shock to learn that he was a cut and paste guy. If he liked the bird but not the background, he would cut it out and change it up. Or, if an area was just not right, he would paper over it and begin again, integrating the correction into the original. Old drawings were re-purposed into new. Audubon’s use of a collage was unusual for an artist of that time and demonstrates his inventiveness as he would do anything necessary to accurately depict the bird and its environs.

Audubon‘s watercolors reflect his close observation of living birds. He usually drew and painted from a freshly killed specimen which he threaded with wire and then posed in a manner that was both characteristic of the species and aesthetically pleasing. He would place the specimen on a square grid to help replicate on paper the proportions of the bird. Audubon began by sketching the birds main outline with graphite that he would then paint with watercolors. He usually applied watercolor in a few thin washes but sometimes built up many layers and even used gouache to create dense areas of solid color. Later he would use the metallic sheen of graphite to enhance and clarify details and to add iridescence to the feathers. He used pastels to capture the soft textures of the birds plumage. Transparent glazes of natural gum or gelatin applied selectively made the eyes and the feathers shine and intensified the colors.

It was with Audubon’s expansive vision and permission to experiment, that I took flight with my own explorations. And, it was with Audubon, that I found my animal spirit.

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Quail, Hummingbirds, Jays, Crows, and Chickens are the avians with whom I have daily communication. They are not exactly wild. They depend on my regular tending — cleaning and filling of the hummingbird feeders, cleaning and filling of the chicken feeders.

Around here Scrub-Jays let everyone know who’s boss. They rule the roost as it were. This time of year they are busy storing up acorns for winter, secreting their stash, making sure that no one sees where they are caching their food.

Nearby the crows sit atop our apple tree pecking at the fruit while the deer wait below for the fruit to drop.

Every morning a covey of quail circumnavigate our yard, churring and calling out to each other. From atop the fence post, a vigilant male reports about conditions ahead, announcing “all clear.” In a flurry of dust they all take a bath on our dirt driveway.

It’s a busy place with the scurry and flight of these common everyday birds. But, these days, the dawn chorus seems different and scientists, in fact, report that it is. Since Covid sheltering began in March with a decrease in human and machine generated noise, birds are changing their tunes. Since they no longer have to compete at a higher volume, they are embellishing their songs. National Geographic has the story with audio clips of the birds before and during the shutdown.

Quiet is better for the birds and it just might be better for us.

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I would be totally remiss if I did not mention that long before I had even heard of having an animal spirit guide, “Arfie” my most favorite cuddle toy, snuggle puppy, was my confidant. At night, before going to sleep, I would roll up his long floppy ears and whisper my private thoughts and deepest secrets. His zippered pocket pouch was intended for stuffing PJ’s but I spent more time with my hand in the pocket feeling around the stuffing, searching for his guts, and for the life of him. Although “Arfie” is now tucked away in my foot locker with my other childhood memories, I treasure the nighttime dream hours we spent together. 

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Post Script

October 1, 2020

Just when we thought the human news could not get any worst: this week it did. 

Do we really need to make a list to remind how bad it has gotten? The vitriol and ranting during the presidential debates set a new low. Fears are being stoked about the intersection of the flu season and the ongoing Covid epidemic. There is rampant unemployment with uncertainty roiling the financial markets. Fires are burning throughout the West. The air is a thick mix of fog and smoke, laden, claustrophobic. Even wearing a mask, rather being about taking care of your self and others, has been politicized.

It’s hard to not feel depressed. Amidst the gloom of these sad and challenging times we need to find ways to heal from the psychopathic politicians and greedy corporations.

Last evening, the birds did it. The Golden-Crowned Sparrows were right on time. At dusk I heard that familiar trill, whistled notes descending in tone, announcing “hey, honey, I’m back.” Back from their summer trip to Alaska, three thousand miles back to here, to winter over; their arrival is so reassuring, reminding that even if the human world is in trouble, birds will continue to sing. Just listen…

In 2012 Richard wrote Ming’s Return. Amelia returned and so did the Golden-Crowned Sparrows.