Barn stories--6 days 'til Christmas

"Stories of life," 5 x 7 watercolor card

Anytime you see a barn, no matter the size, shape, version, there are stories. The more you know of rural life, the more stories you know of families, farms, lives, loves, worries, work, decay and death.
They always catch my attention, even when they're not the huge iconic upper Midwest structures central to agriculture, in many ways the most important buildings on the farms.
Long ago, I was on a paint crew that spent the summers painting farm buildings in Iowa, annual tasks because of the winter weather. You didn't see many neglected or abandoned farms then.
In Oklahoma, and elsewhere, as rural populations have declined, you see more and more derelict barns, and more and more replaced with sterile metal buildings that lack the individuality, character, and memories of their living predecessors.
I know, there's a fanciful side to those images, just as I've always had of the Christmas story of the manger. As a kid, I always thought it was a stable, essentially a small barn. I could imagine a cold starry night, the warmth of hay and livestock, ripe with the odor of life.
I've learned that a manger could have been just a rack or trough for fodder, a feeder used to hold food for animals. 
For the record, the word comes from the French "manger" ("to eat"), from Latin "mandere" ("to chew"). That perhaps implies inside a barn or stable, but they could also be next to or perhaps in farmhouses, where poorer rural people shared quarters with their livestock. That's not far-fetched. Have you been to Maine where you'll see barns attached to farmhouses, because of the brutal winters?
Luke: "So it came to pass that Jesus was born in Bethlehem; and since there was nowhere for them to stay in the town, the infant was laid in a manger...." 
It's not my favorite Christmas carol, but the carol "Away in a Manger,'' added to my youthful images of this season:
"Away in a manger

No crib for His bed
The little Lord Jesus
Lay down His sweet head

"The stars in the sky
Look down where He lay
The little Lord Jesus
Asleep on the hay"

But no matter, fanciful or not, it seems deep down accurate a story of poor people resorting to bringing forth life, in a place redolent and ripe with the odors, the sights, the sounds, the touch of lives, adding to the stories of barns forever after.

Think for a minute about the memories Mary and Joseph had ever time they saw such a barn. And the stories they told their first child, and those thereafter...one that has lasted centuries. 

Thus a fanciful Christmas card.

Desert Sentinels--7 days 'til Christmas

"Desert Sentinels," 5 x 7 watercolor card

In lands of far horizons like deserts, the Great Plains (once called the Great American Desert), where you can see "a far off," landmarks grow in importance and sacredness.
It's no accident that astrology began ages ago among the ancients in the Americas and elsewhere, such as Arabia, where people needed guides, land--"marks"-- not otherwise available to prevent being lost.
To me, another Sentinel of the deserts, of arid country, of wide open spaces, is the yucca. Many consider it just a cactus, but it is more--not just the state flower of New Mexico, but a sentinel of survival, of life, of hope...just as are stars, as was a star celebrated this season of the year.

Franciscan star, of earth and faith--8 days 'til Christmas

St. Francis Mission, Ranchos de Taos, 5 x 7 watercolor card 

St. Francis is everywhere in Northern New Mexico, settled, not always peacefully, almost 500 years ago by Spanish conquerers and Franciscan priests.
An icon of that time, when missions were built by faith from earth, looking to the heavens, is the church of St. Francis in Ranchos de Taos. It's been painted and photographed innumerable times by innumerable people, including me, in watercolor and oil.
My attempts, in these cards, remembers the continuing faith of the followers of St. Francis, still very much alive as the holy season  nears its climax...under the bright stars over the Sangre de Christo Mountains.

The iconic buttresses of the church, facing west, 5 x 7 card

Starlight--9 days 'til Christmas

"Starlight," 5 x 7 watercolor card

Those who live in rural areas, especially the mountains and deserts, the thinly populated areas of the planet, following the stars is a way of life.
You're closer to them high up, and where the sky is not polluted with light or moisture or noise  and people.
As one ranger said at Chaco Canyon, in the clear, dry northwestern New Mexico desert when I last camped there, talking about watching the night sky for hours, "It's like you can feel the earth move under your feet."
You  can actually see and feel time as it moves over you.
You're more aware of how small and remote we are in the vastness of the universe. And you notice changes, and portents, Starlight matters.
No wonder rural people noticed a star beckoning them  to the birth of Jesus so long ago. 

Ten years ago at Chaco: 
Where you can see time 

Glory to Ukraine!

"Invaded Again," 5 /12 by 8 watercolor from 2014--See "Blood and Bars" below

I don't know why, but hundreds of Ukrainians have been clicking on this blog in the last month and week, more than readers in America.
For some reason in previous years, blog readers in Ukraine have consistently ranked about fourth or fifth as the blog's total audience, but these numbers have recently soared. More than 1,900 in the last 30 days, and almost 1,000 of those in the last week.
I'm wondering if these freedom-loving, often suppressed people are worried about their country's future in the Trump Ukraine scandal, and if his friendship with Russia's dictator Putin will bode more threats to their freedom.
It's nothing new for a country whose name can be roughly translated "borderlands," already invaded by Putin in the east, and remembering other despots from Stalin to Hitler and most recently Putin in 2014. (Russian readers of the blog rank second over the years behind the U.S., but only 257 in the last month.)
I blogged and painted about that when it happened. Since then, we have terrific new neighbors, across the back fence, Ukrainians Aleksandr and Iryna, also a watercolor artist. 
I've read that most Ukrainians are trying to ignore the Trump impeachment proceedings, wanting nothing to do with it. They need our and international support to fend off more Russian atrocities. 
Still they gather to remember the Maidan protests from Nov. 2013, which started peacefully, ending with 100 killed by riot police in Kiev's Maidan--Independence Square. 
You can read my previous articles on Ukraine in the three links below.
In the meantime, here's a salute to their citizens, who have lots of experience with dictators, and value their freedom.
I asked my neighbors how you said "Viva Ukraine!" in their language. Iryna responded with what translates to "Glory to Ukraine!" In their alphabet, it looks like this.

Слава Україні!

Here are my blog posts:

• Saluting Ukraine
• Invaded Again, Blood and Bars
• Flags of Invaded, Occupied and Free