woodland tenants.

Bone pile, Wyoming.

This is a photo of a twelve foot tall pile of elk and mule deer antlers, skulls, held together by balance and barbed wire. Rachel, Matt, Brian and I passed it on our way to Yellowstone National Park...of course we had to stop to gawk.

A mule deer skull had fallen from the pile, we took it as an omen to put her in the back of our car to keep us safe while we slept in Walmart Parking lots and rest areas. We named the mule deer milky and parts of her would flake off like dandruff when she was handled. It may sound silly, but I think she kept us safe.

On that trip we encountered a deranged truck driver who asked us if we had loaded guns while he drank our beer and intimidated us at our Oregon campsite. I was afraid he was going to kill us. At a Walmart in Idaho I walked past a man wearing a navy hoody, he glared at me and then ran away. Minutes later a police officer told me a man fitting that description had shot someone and they were on a hunt for him.

When the trip was over Brian took her home. Milky later perished in a fire. Milky died for us and the experience made me understand why caveman painted bison on their cave walls, sympathetic magic is a powerful thing.

snow job.

obligatory snow post.

Well, its my first winter in Iowa. Everyone Iowan told me to dread the snow. I told them to not worry about me because,

"aww, schucks. I've driven in Illinois winters for years. It can't be THAT bad."

You can't compare a Chicago winter to a rural Iowa winter. And this snow and ice and sleet has humbled me. On Tuesday morning we had a storm come in from Nebraska, Tuesday night a storm blew in from Illinois (or vice versa). When those two storms met in the middle they fought a mighty fight. The winds blew a powerful 45 mph, about as fast as a thouroughbred horse. The snow came down and down and down eventually laying twelve inches of powder. Then the wind and the snow worked together to make tremendous white mountains and drifts. Sadly, it was not packing snow and no snowmen were made.

It was a fantastic feat of nature.

The snow locked me indoors and i got the day off work...paid. Porch cat tried to beg her way into our home by sitting on the window sill by the t.v and meowing...when she slipped off the edge of the sill and disappeared from my view I felt sorry for her. I let her inside and she slept happily by the space heater all day. I could feel kittens in her tummy, spinal chords and heads, it was kind of gross.

the end.

deer in the backyard.

Ode to a Dead Bumble Bee

While i ran across the lawn
You bumbled in the clovers
Carelessly,
You played matchmaker
Among the pretty flowers.

For such a tiny, buzzing thing,
Hardly even there.
Into my arch, i felt a sting
Into my skin so bare.

And with that sting that felt like fire
Burning up my shin
I cussed and screamed and cursed that bee
My foot became its pyre.

Carelessly,

I stumbled forth
And landed on the stairs.
I clutched my foot
To look at it
And half the bee was there.

A tiny pulsing abdomen
pumped venom in my skin.
And i knew that bee would never buzz
or ever fly again.

Now I walk on aching arch
With steroids as my pills.
To dull the pain,
Unflame inflamed

From a bee whose guts were spilled.

trail cam pictures.

hungry eyes.

I have a trail camera attatched to a tree on our property. It collects photographs of wildlife around our Iowa home. I have pictures of all sorts of creatures; bobcat, coyote, male and female deer, squirrels, raccoons, possum, birds, and other woodland creatures. The camera is set off by a combination of heat and movement so the camera won't take pictures of swaying reeds, leafs blowing, or other boring things. Occassionally the camera will take a very amusing photo of animals just doing what comes natural to them. I've decided to share two of the more amusing photographs with you all.

1. A coyote taking a number two right in front of our camera. Very random.

2. A young male deer looking for love (he is doing "frenum", mouth open smelling for mates),he has a small erection which means he's probably about to run and harrass a doe.

cadaver dogs.

In Chicago they band together,
roving packs of angry, canine youths.

They roll into the suburbs
and disturb my mother's neighbors.

Only to be chased away from emptied garbage cans,
by the River Forest Police.

In Iowa you solo roll,
trot along the four-lane highway.

Dead smells seduce
your olfactory sense.

You cadaver dog. Eat what you find.

A.J Fosik.

This is a sculpture made by the prolific and talented A.J Fosik. If i prayed to a God, I would pray to this Bear-like wall God. my goodness this guy could fine art any girl right outta their panties. Take a gander at his work...http://www.toxel.com/inspiration/2009/05/03/animal-sculptures-by-aj-fosik/

new art.

My new art. four color silkscreen, robert hardgrave, awesome. i'm going to hang it above my fireplace.Now i just have to get a fireplace.

dodging furry bullets.

Its getting scarier, friends. Every morning i wake up, hop into my mud covered Honda and drive down my dirty, dirty, dirt covered road. It is always pitch black at 5:30am and the stars are still twinkling. Most people I know would my call my mornings beautiful or serene, lovely and quaint, or even pretty as a picture. But I know better, it may be beautiful and lovely but it is dangerous out there. I don't know why it's happening but every possum in Iowa wants me to hit them with my car. They are nature's buffoons. I've had three little idiots try to walk into my speeding car since the last time i actually pegged one...yuck. I don't want to kill you, animals, stay away from my car. All of you marsupials, rodents, raccoons, and even-toed ungulates (deer) (which i almost hit today) (it was a big ten point buck) just stay away from my car. That's all i ask.

Every night possums haunt our backyard. We have at least four living under the porch. All night long they will clank through my cans, eat my garbage, woo my pregnant cat, and cause general disarray. Some might say,

"Jane, why don't you just throw away your garbage? Then the possums won't come over all the time."

and to them I say, we have no garbage pickup where I live. We have to burn all the paper waste and drive the rest of the trash to the dump...so garbage is on the back burner for awhile. I have better things to do and the garbage will continue to sit behind the cellar door where only the tiniest of possums can get into the stinky bags...the little ones aren't thaaat messy. And, to tell you the truth, I like being able to look out my bedroom window and see a clumsy possum knocking my stuff over. They remind me of me...loud, uncoordinated, messy, and opportunistic. I see myself in those little creatures... so they can live under my porch and eat my garbage, I don't care. At least if they're under my porch it'll be harder to hit them with my car.

*possum image from http://urbpan.livejournal.com/tag/opossum

Down Low and in the Garden...my weekend in Dekalb.

When you live in the middle of nowhere and visit the middle of somewhere it is an eye-opening vacation. I used to compare DeKalb to Chicago...I'd complain,

"DeKalb doesn't have any good food, art supplies, or record stores...wah, wah, waaaaaah."

Man was I spoiled. Because DeKalb has good food. Pita Pete's on Lucinda is delicious and I ate there two times in a twenty-four hour period because i KNOW there is no fallafel or hummus in Eldon, Iowa. DeKalb also has good art supplies. The school book store had all the paper, gouache, brushes, inks, erasers, and various pencils a girl could shake a stick at and I went to the art store two times because i KNOW there is no place in Eldon, Iowa to get gouache and 300 lb watercolor paper. DeKalb still doesn't have a brag-worthy record store but, luckily, Barnes and Nobles had the record i wanted. The Monsters of Folk rock and it's a damn fine record. Not to sound repetitive... I bought it because i KNOW that there is no place in Eldon, Iowa to buy a good album. I bought a lot of things this weekend.

There were also a lot of good friends, art and fun in DeKalb. My buddies (ann flowers, joanna goss, adam cox and Christian campos) and i finally put our work together to create the show, "Down Low and in the Garden." Even though it was rainy people showed up to have some fun, drink PBR, and sell hotdogs to fundraise. I talked so much that evening my voice started to go out...i sounded silly but didn't care and talked anyone's ear off that would let me. We went to the Annex (bar) and stayed till two a.m. which was nice. Then i slept in ann flower's bed without ann flowers in the bed with me. Unrequited. sigh.

The next day I ate, drank, and was merry. Sushi, icecream, pita petes, books, glitter. I even spent the night in a hotel that reeked of incense and my pals came over to be merry as well. This weekend filled me with joy.

a picture says a thousand words.

roadkill.

I've had a bad morning because I killed something.

I knew it was going to happen sooner or later, things keep running in front of my car. Today a Virginia oppossum ran in front of my car and I hit the poor thing. I tried to swerve to miss him and nearly drove my car off the dirt road. But I clipped him.

I wanted to make sure he was dead so he didn't have to suffer further. I drove back to check. He was lying in the road, very still. Then he looked at me, wide-eyed. I could see blood was pouring out of him. He was alive and struggling to get to the side of the road. I didn't want him to suffer anymore, he could have lived like that for awhile...

So I backed up my car, took aim, and put him out of his misery. It was terrible and I feel horrible.

possum went a courtin' and he did ride, uh- huh?

I have a pest problem. It's harvest time in Iowa which means farmers are driving around in their combines collecting crops...mostly corn or soybeans. Mice have been chowing down on corn the entire growing season and have developed a hearty mouse population in the fields. Now that the crops are gone the mice are scrambling to find a warm place to spend their winter...they've decided to spend it in our house, damnit, and we've been finding little mouse turds everywhere. Poop on top of the fridge, under the couch, under the sink, in the bathroom. I'm not worried about the mice so much as the fleas they could be harboring...and I don't care much for their turds, either.

I have a cat that lives outside on the porch, we call her Porch Cat. She's prgnant and hungry and I'm sure she's doing her fair share of mousing to feed her little kitten fetuses. We'll feed her kibble at night but she doesn't always eat all of the food. The other night I looked out the window and saw that the food was gone and I saw Porch Cat cuddling next to a black cat, or so I thought. I yelled to Seth that we had a new black cat friend. I tapped on the window to get it's attention and, I'll tell you what, that wasn't no black cat. It was a giant Possum (opossum) and it was getting awful friendly with Porch Cat. When the Possum saw me it trundled off into the wild blue yonder and Porch Cat just sat there staring at me, mad that I chased off her warm cuddle buddy.

So, I guess Porch Cat doesn't have the killer instinct of a bobcat. Or maybe she's just trying to find a baby daddy. It's nice to see creatures getting along. That possum damn near scared the shit out of me, though. I'm still glad she'll eat a mouse.

I've been thinking about an Apocolypse.

This is what the world will look like when we are gone and animals reclaim their space. Josh Keyes is nostradamus...

http://www.joshkeyes.net/.

paintings top to bottom: Sowing, Fever, Drifting.

I wouldn't eat that if i were you...again.

This is a squirrel. Some people think they are disease ridden tree rats...which is sort of true, some of them carry fleas that harbor the bubonic plague and we all know how that went, sores, lesions, and death. Other people think they are pests...which is also true because they'll get into your garden and eat your beets...but i see this quality as being more opportunistic then pest-like and I like squirrels because of this quality. Still yet, other people find them to be delectable, delicious, scrumptious, or savory. I was (un)fortunate enough to make a feeble attempt at eating one of these woodland creatures after Seth brought one home and cooked it up. I was nervous when he texted me and told me what was for dinner...could I really do it? I love squirrels...but I also love cows and I still eat them. When I got home I saw Seth on the porch, the cat was also on the porch munching on a messy pile of guts. This was an instant turn off. I was now afraid of eating the squirrel. When I got to the front door I saw the squirrel's little feet hanging out of the cat's mouth...I was even more disgusted but still determined to try a bite. Within the hour, Seth presented me with a tiny drumstick...I knew where it came from and it was starting to make me dryheave. I put the drumstick to my teeth, pressed down, felt the rubbery texture, and almost vomited on the air mattress. Moral of the story: I would only eat squirrel if I was starving or if it was in a stew and I didn't have to see a cat eating it's innards before I ate it's limbs.

i wouldn't eat that if i were you.

My family came to visit me the other day. Here's what happened :

1. we shot pumpkins and made them explode.

2. we ate chinese food at the chinese place next to the adult xxx theatre in Ottumwa. I didn't eat the egg drop soup

3. we saw strippers taking a smoke break. how did we know they were strippers? fur coats, platform shows, and no pants, thats how.

4. we almost hit a raccon and a possum.

But my favorite event happened while we were driving to the gas station. As we were winding down the dirt road my mom said,

"Hey, guys, look at the sweet Brittaney on the side of the road! What is he doing there, the little scamp?"

The dog pops his head up to look at us while we drive by. His face is covered in blood. The dog sees us and promply shoves his head back into the abdomen of a deer carcass and continues to munch on deer chittlins (deer intestines).

Delicious.

(photo of the brittaney made possible by www.dailypuppy.com)

how i learned to love a cow.

My love affair with the cow began in Canada when I met this happy little fellow. I had never seen a baby cow up close and personal until this very moment in 2005. It was at a winery that specialized in Ice Wines...ice wine is made from grapes that are allowed to freeze on the vine. The wine is very sweet and thick and, in my opinion, disgusting. The winery also specialized in petting zoos and had a variety of furry headed chickens, fly covered pigs, and a couple of scabby eared goats.

This baby cow said, "maaaaaaaa mooooooooo," and I was in love. I ran over to the calf and pet it's chin. The calf stretched out it's neck, I pretended to kiss it's face, and then this photograph was taken by one of my shit-head friends. Then we ate some sandwiches, fed a cat some potato chips, bought some shitty wine, and went on our merry way to Toronto.

Steve Seeley.

Steve Seeley's paintings have intrigued me since I was first introduced to his work three years ago at the Packer Schopf gallery in Chicago. His mixed media paintings incorporate animals as stand-ins for humans; weaving a narrative that is equal parts pop culture and nature. My good friend, Arius, once said,

"Jane, if primates didn't evolve into human beings I think we would have evolved from bears." Omnivorous, bipedal at times, intelligent...the bears in Seeley's work remind me of what would have happened if bears did evolve to the humanoid level. Dogs, deer, gorillas, mandrills, and birds all play equally complicated roles and come together to create a universe I wouldn't mind hanging out in for awhile. Steve and i are showing together at the South Bend Museum of Art in Indiana. The Show is titled, Fauna and was curated by Jason Lahr. Check out http://www.artseverywhere.com/event/detail/38407

Check Steve's work at:

http://www.thedelicatematter.com/

Check out my work at

http://www.janeryder.com/

tooth chip.

The first time I chipped my tooth was on a sugar daddy lolipop. I was at P.F Chang's. It was horrible and I never wanted it to happen again. Also, the food at P.F Chang's was horrible. The whole event was terrible and then the dreams began. Dreams, every night, about

1. spitting out teeth
2. eating my teeth
3. pulling out my own teeth and spitting them into my hand.
4. teeth falling out in chunks.
5. the dog sniffing my tooth chunks.

Ugh. Need I say more? Everyone worries about their teeth because they make us look good and we need them to chew...and live when it comes down to it. A tooth infection could kill you. Cavities hurt, root canals are worst and don't get me started on the wisdom teeth...I call them caveman teeth.

I chipped my front tooth today while biting tape. I'm an idiot. a total idiot. The chip is sharp but at least it's small. Still, its big enough to ruin my day.

This is a snow goose migration Rishika and I witnessed in Nebraska. The geese come in an all white color phase and blueish color phase. Early explorers thougt they were two different species but they ain't. As you can see, not only do I spook mule deer, I spooked these geese right out of the water. The sounds they made could have ruptured my eardrums. I'm glad I saw them. I'm even glad I heard them. Its funny how all these photos are of creatures running (or flying) away from me.

mule deer.

These are the mule deer does that Rish and I spooked In Idaho. As a midwesterner, I'd never seen this many deer in a group before. Whitetail tend to be more solitary and that's what we have in Illinois and Iowa. Muledeer are a western animal and the females hang out in large groups. Am I boring you?

elk

I love traveling. I love seeing the animals hang out by the side of the road. These photographs of Elk were taken by Rishika "Rizzle" Murthy. She is very talented and I'm going to showcase the photographs she took while we traveled across the country last Spring.

Goodbye cattle.

*I just ended my career as a dairy farmer. I enjoyed the job like a fat kid enjoys cheetos...however, it takes money to feed a fat kid and I wasn't paying the bills with my milk money. Even though those baby cows loved me, love won't pay the bills either.

But my career as a dairy farmer ended on an interesting note. I've heard of mutant cows being born in Cher-noble (spelled fo-net-ick-cul-ey) after nuclear disaster...but not in lovely Iowa. I heard that a mutant cow was delivered by c-section the night before my shift and that the mutant was still in the straw. So I popped over to take a look.

The mama just stood there and looked at me. She had a three foot long scar down her side that looked like a zipper. And next to her was a calf with a fully developed head, grarled and awkward front legs that hooked like a cane, and after the pelvic area began the cow stopped developing. It was just tiny, ridgid bones with some skin covering them.

It was very haunting. I didn't take a picture out because of that.

*I work at the farm again...feeding cows and cleaning afterbirth, and I love it. 10-10-2009

I am a Farmer.

Call me Farmer Jane.  I have a new job, I work with Holstein Cattle babies.  I mix their milk in a bucket, change their bedding, give them water, grain, and love.  It was raining cats and dogs when I came in to work my first shift at 5:30 am...I didn't mind, I loved it.  The best part is I can eat as much as I want now because I working with cattle is like working with a medicine ball, I'm sore as hell and want to consume a banana.

In other news, I'm still arting.  I've beaded two skulls (coyote and sheep), cleaned and put together a skunk skull I found, and have begun a new painting featuring all the pond creatures I've become so fond of over the past several months.

I also found a neat store with a creepy owner on Main street in Ottumwa. They skulls, antlers, coins, fossils, silver, and have pornography in the bathroom...should I call someone about this? I'm afraid there are cameras in the toilet.  Should I blow the whistle, I'm afraid for the children that need to go to the bathroom after they buy buffalo nickels.

American Gothic.

Today was a big day for ol' Jane, I saw the American Gothic house that resides in my new town, Eldon.

Eldon, Iowa is a small town. It's quaint and a little delapidated...but not too bad overall. There are brown road signs through out the town that lead you all the way to the house that Grant Wood painted all those years ago.

Seeing as "American Gothic" could concievably be the most recognizable American painting in the world I thought it would be larger then life. Huge, well-lit, and just incredible. I don't know why I thought this...but I did.

We pulled into the parking lot and far off in the distance I saw a little white house with people posing in overalls in the front yard. Was this humble home really it? And it was.

I would liken seeing the American Gothic House to seeing the Mona Lisa for the first time.

"Isn't it supposed to be bigger?"

I wasn't dissappointed by the experience, I was enthralled by it. Seeing that window at the top of the house and recognizing it from Wood's painting was great. But I suppose that the beauty of the midwest is found in its simple, corn covered landscape...and Grant was able to capture that simple, down home, charactoristic in his painting.

a transition.

I am about to drive to Iowa. To honor my transition from Illinois Resident to Iowa Resident I have chosen a photo from the lagoon that speaks to this transition. Its a bullfrog that is about to lose it's tail and become a mini-adult.

Blue Gill Puppy and my Fearlessness.

This has been a summer of firsts. This bluegill is one of them. Most kids have a photograph of themselves with the first fish they caught...but not me. I was deathly afraid of fish as a small child.

You may wonder why. Its not that special but very traumatic. My dad used to take my brothers and I to a lake house somewhere in Michigan when we were people puppies. There, I found a fossil at the beach with a fish in it and my dad told me it was older then Jesus. That blew my little mind. I began to think fish had special powers. Kids aren't smart and I began to fear them. I knew there was something wrong with fish and I knew they would hurt me if they got the chance.

My dad would take us out in a canoe to catch bluegill as an afternoon activity. Whenever I saw that little red and white bobber begin to bob in the water i would sweat. I knew that a horrible fish was on the line and would soon be flopping on our canoe bottom...until my dad hit it in the head with an oar.

Dad also took it upon himself to show me that a bluegill was nothing to be scared of. God only knows why he decided that cutting of its head in front of me would help me get rid of my fish phobia. He even picked up the bluegill's head to show me while I screamed uncontrolably...the decapitated fish bit his finger and wouldn't let go. Horrible. blood.

But like I said, this has been a summer of first. I am no longer afraid of bluegills, if anything the bluegills should be afraid of me because of my dad. I caught this guy in the photo, held him in my hand and let him go back home without chopping off his head. And there was nothing to fear.

Since then I've caught a catfish, a true triumph. and thank goodness for baby bluegills, if the photographed bluegill had been any larger I may have thrown it into the bike lane. Baby steps. Baby steps.

Farewell Frogs. this was written in october.

This is a bullfrog tadpole that has started to grow its legs. Isn't it a horrible little monster but pretty neat at the same time? It takes a bullfrog tadpole two years to fully develop from its larval stage into a full fledged frog. That's a long grow-time for a tadpole, especially when everything wants to eat you. This guy has already survived a winter. That is an impressive feat.

Now that Fall has arrived my little frog buddies are all probably going to start hybernating or die. This is a sad fact of life for lil' ol me because I've had a fun summer learning about frogs, toads, and their kit n' kin.

So, here's to the changing of the seasons, hybernation, and metamorphesis. Good luck to all my little frog, toad and tadpole buddies this winter. You'll make it though, it's not like you haven't done this before.

Goodbye Dekalb. A Land of Corn. Our Patron Saint of Barbed wire.

Seth and I are in the process of moving out of our apartment. We are moving to Iowa. I've lived in DeKalb for three years. I've lived in this wonderful apartment for two wonderful years. This apartment has been my studio and my refuge. Its been my personal gallery, I'm the curator. My showcase piece being the Mallard Duck flying majestically in the center of a blue sky. I bought it off the wall at Sterling Family Restraunt. Tangent, back on track...

Life in DeKalb wasn't always sweet for me. I used to live in a boarding house bedroom with a bathroom I shared with a young lady who was very fond of Narnia. I shared the kitchen with a wall-eyed serial killer (I assume) who cooked beans in the microwave at 6pm everyday. I walked the boarding house halls with a man that had hands attatched to his shoulders. It was a strange place. Lots of kitchen fires.

Then I got my sweet apartment, I traveled to Utah to collect bones. I went to Graduate school and finally got good at painting (see www.janeryder.com). I got to work with great artists, professors and colleagues. I played in the lagoon, drank at the annex...and now I have to go.

Is this deer sad looking? Oh deer. I'm going to miss DeKalb.

Frog Blog.

*The first Bullfrog I've ever caught. Isn't he handsome?

When I was Nine I thought it would be easy to catch a frog. I wanted to catch a frog really badly. I asked my dad to finance my excursion. He bought me all the necessary equipment for frog catching; nets, tubs, buckets, frog stuff. Then dad took me and my brothers to the pond we frequented.

I tried out my new equipment at the pond but couldn't scoop up a floating turd even if I tried. I was just too uncoordinated and fat. But I was an observant fat kid and noticed that when the frogs jumped out of the water I couldn't even tell they were there...they were camouflaged! No wonder I, a fat uncoordinated kid, couldn't catch them. I would have to wait till puberty ended. Then I would be coordinated...and hopefully not fat.

Now I am officially a woman and have started to catch bullfrogs. I notice them because I've learned their tricks....camouflage and fine jumping legs. I've caught about six. One must have weighed half a pound and screamed when I picked him up, it was a very surprising noise.

The trick to catching them is to walk very quietly along the edge of the water and then you'll notice some eyes poking out of sludge or bubbles rising to the surface of the water. Drop the net on top of the animal, put your hands on top of the animal (animal is still inside net of course), and place the animal in a container and photograph them. But always let em' go after you're done and always make sure your hands are free of soap or chemicals seeing as frog skin absorbs everything.

fun crab dance.

This is my pet mini-claw crab. He loves to dance for his girlfriend who chose to remain on the other side of the aquarium while I shot this music video.

chimney sweepin' crayfish.

*this is an angry crayfish video.

I decided that I am not ready to write a post about tadpoles today. Tadpoles are complex and strange creatures, they go through many physical changes in a short amount of time. They also look like little swimming faces. It takes time to write about tadpoles. I want to do the tadpole justice as a creature...they have soft tummies and are adorable.

However, crayfish are funny lil' mudbugs that want to pinch you. and they deserve some talking time too. As you can see in my video*, this Chimney Crayfish is an angry fellow. If you look close, you can tell he wants me arrested. If you see holes that look like putt-putt golf holes* (usually in sets of three, two seen in the photo) near the banks of a pond a chimney crayfish is nearby. They live in the little holes their job is to eat dead things. I'm sure it was sanitary to pick up mister pinchers.

I've found bigger crayfish, dead ones too. Crayfish are known for their inability to live in polluted waters...however, the "Rusty Crayfish," which was introduced into Illinois as catfish bait, is changing many ecosystems and pushing out native crayfish populations.

Damn. Poor Crayfish.

let me explain the importance of a good dung pile.

This is probably the last post that will specifically deal with goose poop. But like I promised in my last post, "I am going to post some pictures I took of goose poop," here it is, just for you. If you count, seven geese could have made this pile but it was made by one Goose...and its sitting on a large leaf, astounding! Talking about the abundant feces at the lagoon helps me deal, psychologically, with the fact that I have to walk through them while I catch bull frogs and collect my specimens to photograph.

And now, an unoffensive photo of flowers to cleanse the pallet and provoke thought about it's placement next to the feces. Can you tell I went to (f)art school? Because I did. And I don't just sit around all day talking about goose shit, I research ecosystems and make paintings about their complexity. I have been witness to all of the grit, blood, guts, dirt, and growth in each painting. By getting my hands on a net and that net into the water, I can begin to understand how a rather complex ecosystem (the lagoon) works and make art that is well informed as well as well crafted (my art at www.janeryder.com, up on sunday!). That flower needs poop, rotten plants, and dead animals in it's soil to thrive. Thus making a pile of shit just as important as a beautiful flowering plant.

Check out the shit I've found. I'm no scientist, I read field guides, so feel free to correct me. I'll be writing specific blogs about most of these creatures complete with photos. But it won't be boring. It'll be cool and informative. I promise.

1. woodhouse toad
2. fowlers toad
3. toad tadpole
4. mad tom Catfish
5. young channel catfish
6. bullfrogs of all shapes and sizes and one that SCREAMED when I picked it up.
7. bullfrog tadpoles in all their stages of life
8. paper shell clam
9. knob shell clam
10. young bluegills (they are panfish and totally cool looking)
11. Red fin Shiner fish
12.Chimney Crayfish
13. eastern crayfish young.
14.snapping turtle
15. softshell turtle
16. Woodchuck families, they also scream.
17. a muskrat or a GIANT rat.
18. a racoons dinner.
19. beaver

This blog is going to get better and i'll leave youthe thought of my next topic...the mother fucking tadpole.

Goose shit. and beavers.

I’ve lived the lagoon for three years and have enjoyed it as a place to sit and watch the ducks and geese eat pond scum on many an occasion. But when you look at the lagoon, from a bench or a sidewalk, it doesn’t look or smell like a place that would harbor abundant life. The only life I noticed were the seventy-five Canada geese that shat at least three pounds or digested pond sludge a day each. and the only smell I noticed was the two hundred and twenty-five pounds of greased goose shit that would float on the lagoon's poopy banks, sit lifelessly on it's grass. Touched by children, sat on by the elderly. It was a messy place

Perhaps... I exaggerate the amount feces produced by a Canada Goose... but not by much. The poop is green, white, and shaped like one of those hockey puck-like snake fireworks but after it’s burned out. That horrific stuff had to pollute the pond. It made the shore of the pond area look like a brownish, muddy wasteland, and the top of the water look like an oil slick, as illustrated in the photograph*. I thought the lagoon water would smother all forms of life except, of course, for the magnificent and shit filled Canada Goose.

That was why I was shocked when I saw a fucking beaver swimming in the water one night. A beaver is a large, brown, rodent with a waffle for a tail, it is known for it's affinity for wood and architechture. Its brown color is apparently camolflodge for its latrine like habitat.

Anyways, this beaver made me believe there had to be other creatures living in that disgusting puddle. I had to find them...

*by the way, this beautiful photograph was taken by mister Anthony Topper from flickr.com, I believe in giving credit where credit is doo (doo, ha) and this is a brilliant photo, I will post some pictures of goose poop tommorrow for you to look at and I believe they may impress you)

Welcome to the Lagoon.

It's stinky, its covered in goose shit, and at one point there was a six foot alligator living in it's muggy water. It's Dekalb, Illinois and we're at the lagoon. I'm Jane Ryder and I've been sifting through the muck n' mire to discover that all that is covered in goose shit is not necessarily shitty. The unexpectedly abundant life in the lagoon has made me into it's Lewis...or its Clark. Or it's something.

Anyways, I've got some stories. And I'll tell em' to you later.