IT'S A SIGN!

"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all..."

And the signs are everywhere.

Signs of intelligent life.

On my last few bike rides through the tree canopied byways of Montecito I have included a little game: counting political posters and bumper stickers. The unofficial tally is roughly 20 to 1 in favor of Obama/Biden over the Republican ticket. So I have decided to honor these brave souls with a gallery of gates. Hopefully it will gladden your heart as it has mine.

Here in front of a very modern Frank Lloyd Wright sort of design

Now why should these displays be so noteworthy? Well, if you haven't heard, the community of Montecito is not merely one of the wealthiest in California, or the US, but in the world. This is the land of estates, acreage, the loooooong driveway/private road and the solemn guard gate. Big, huge, sexy, MONEY by the bushel-basketful . Entry level home ownership starts at $3 mil. This should be a Republican stronghold. Not only that, but this idyllic enclave has a reputation for being reclusive, exclusive, tight lipped and PRIVATE with a 'talk to the intercom' sort of attitude. To declare one's political leanings with a yard sign, especially those that proclaim 'we don't fit the mold' is downright radical. So how can I help but celebrate them!

Atop a loooooong hedgerow

Many of the homes have put out great Halloween decorations

Though hard to see, this is a very handsome gate

One for the road

Oh, one more. I tell ya they just keep comin'!

For those that may think the revelation of my own choice for 2008 here on my blog a little imprudent, I think that cat was already out of the bag. I'm an ARTIST. My clients probably suspect I'm a raving liberal. I'm waiting for November 4th like a four-year-old waits for Santa Claus.

Last but certainly no less important, the signs for equal rights
NO ON PROP 8! Gay and Lesbian couples should KEEP their right to marry.

You have to love these people. These two photos are of the same property.
They used the "No On Prop 8" signs like landscape décor.

This entry boasted no affiliation whatsoever buts earns a place because they grow amazing hydrangeas and I know the kids will love it on Friday night

Whatever you believe, with all my heart I HOPE you get out there next Tuesday and vote.

An update on my tasty critter friends whose numbers are rapidly dwindling nationwide as I write.

Goodbye Mr. Orange Halloween Edition Hippo (or is that a rhino?)!

And Suddenly... BIKE ART!!

"1 km"
© Kathleen King 2008

While the memory of exactly when Crayola's Big Box of 64 entered my world is lost in the fuzzy recollections of the toddler brain, the day I savored my first taste of freedom is clear as an early spring day.

On my fourth birthday I received a grape purple Schwinn 'big kid' BIKE! It came with training wheels... I tooled around on the driveway for about 20 minutes, marched into the kitchen and demanded they be taken off. My mother all flustered, my dad with a knowing grin stood 20 feet apart on the blacktop and pushed me back and forth standing farther and farther apart with each pass. After about 15 minutes of that I circled the drive a few times and rolled off down he hill. I was FREE. I yelled to my mom that I'd be back before dark.

I went to explore the canyons and visit all my little friends. To her credit, Mom, instead of freaking out and shrieking at me to come back ( I was only four) simply got on the phone to all my little friend's moms and proceeded to track my progress through the neighborhood with the accuracy of NORAD, as I flew by kitchen window after kitchen window. It was 1968.

I became a professional artist at 19 when I sold my first painting, quit my day job and later dropped out of school (oops). But it's taken 25 years of painting and 40 years on two wheels for the love of cycling to make the trip from my heart to my brain where it finally trickled down my right arm and hit the canvas.

So here it is, my first ever bike painting. It does have a precedent in my body of work, for those of you who are serious art enthusiasts. It follows from a series called "Scribbles" (for obvious reasons). You can see more Scribbles on my website if you like.

I'm serving it up here for 'my people', my bike people, like my first born. But don't feel you have to tell me the baby is pretty. Please express whatever you'd like. The point of ART is neither to be 'good' nor 'bad', 'right' or 'wrong', but to make you think and ultimately feel in a way that you hadn't thought or felt before you looked at it. If you happen to enjoy it, well heck, that's gravy!

Yes, there will be more joining this one soon, pedaling hard on his heels about to catch...