About Colleen Kiefer

Colleen Kiefer
Colleen Kiefer received a bachelor of fine arts degree in graphic communications from University of Houston in May 1986. A native of upstate New York, she began her education at State University College at Buffalo as a graphic design major. Ms. Kiefer has worked, since graduating from college, as a graphic designer, publications manager, and adjunct instructor. Past employers include Syracuse University, College of Visual and Performing Arts; Crouse Irving Memorial Hospital; Syracuse University, Office of Publications; Creel Morrell, Inc., Houston, Texas and Washington, D.C. Her work has been recognized by Syracuse Press Club in 2003: Best Newsletter, Syracuse University School of Information Studies Home Page; SUNY CUAD (Council on University Affairs and Development) publications competition in 2002: Award of Excellence for Oswego Alumni Association’s Oswego Magazine; Society of Technical Communication, International Technical Publications Competition and Distinguished Technical Communication Award, Society of Technical Publications, Rochester Chapter in 1998: Award of Merit; SUNY CUAD publications competition: 1997 Best of Category for SUNY Health Science Center’s Upstate Medical Alumni Journal; SUNY CUAD publications competition: 1994-1996 Best of Category for SUNY Oswego Alumni Association’s Oswego Magazine; Art Directors Club of Metropolitan Washington: June 1988 Certificate of Merit.

On a sunny morning in early May, colorful signs point to the one building at the seasonally vacated New York State Fairgrounds where satiny ribbons flutter and fresh straw still lines the stalls. The 2015 Northeast Alpaca Expo has commenced. Alpaca farmers have trucked their finest specimens great distances to compete in the show ring. Cindy Cuykendall of Song Meadows Alpacas, accompanied by her fleece-faced companions Bocephus and Yanni, is among the exhibitors.

Photo of huacaya alpaca having getting a treat
Cindy Cuykendall with Bocephus and Yanni at the 2015 Northeast Alpaca Show

“Because I’m ‘Song Meadows,’ I try to give everyone a music-related name. I’ve had Maestro, Melody, Harmony, Rhapsody . . . ,” says Cuykendall as she introduces Yanni, a “fawn” colored alpaca named for the composer and musician who was performing in concert near the time of Yanni, the alpaca’s, birth. “I’m learning to play the hurdy-gurdy; so you can be sure that one day I’ll have a Hurdy-Gurdy in the herd,” she laughs.

Cindy first encountered alpacas at the county fair nearly twenty years ago. She fell in love, understandably. It’s in the eyes. Big glossy orbs partially shrouded by extra long lashes are alluring, enchanting. These Dr. Suessian creatures—alpacas—are the genetic cousin of the llama and camel (all of the camelid family). In the spring, their luxurious fleece, which has warmed them throughout the winter, is full, fluffy and ready for shearing. The puff atop their foreheads and the fluff around their cheeks make them Tickle-Me-Elmo irresistible.

While alpacas are fascinating to just about anyone who meets them, Cindy explains that her husband, Karl Cuykendall, was not charmed. He strenuously opposed her first proposal to acquire an alpaca as a backyard pet, saying he just didn’t like them. She began to research and continued her campaign for nearly three years, amassing a stack of information, determined to persuade Karl. Her initial desire for an alpaca or two on the family farm gradually blossomed into a viable plan for a working retirement despite her husband’s protests. Still, Karl wasn’t budging. He insisted, “he needed to know more, to learn more.”

After working for twenty years in the Auburn City School District as a guidance counselor, a back injury forced Ms. Cuykendall to leave the job that required long hours of sitting at a desk. So, one day in 2001, she said to Karl, “I’m going to buy my alpacas today.” And she did—two of them with registered pedigrees—Harmony and Abigail. The alpaca project became her full-time gig. Karl, still not on board, was reluctant even to let her use his pickup truck.

Photo of mother and daughter alpacas
Song Meadows Alpacas—mother and daughter—relaxing in the pasture, May 2015.

Fourteen years later Song Meadows is home to a herd of 38 alpacas, all but one Huacaya, and all with documented lineage and registered with ARI (Alpaca Registry, Inc.). In addition, a lumbering Burmese Mountain dog greets visitors; while a family of ducks works slug patrol in the yard. Happily, the Cuykendalls are still together. Cindy now has her very own manure spreader—“an anniversary gift from Karl,” she chuckles. He began to come around at the birth of their first cria (baby alpaca). “I knew I had him when he got up at 3 o’clock in the morning and went to the barn to tend a young male being treated for an abscess.” Karl now admits he’s glad Cindy didn’t let him “shoot it down.” In addition to corn and soybean, the farm produces an alpaca-friendly blend of hay—timothy and orchard grass—for the Song Meadows herd and other nearby alpaca farmers.

There have been other challenges as well. These animals are family to Cindy who knows them all by name, temperament and lineage. “There is some heartbreak in it . . . no doubt,” she says recalling the sudden departure of 13 alpacas she was boarding. The owner decided to sell his whole herd—the herd she had grown to love as her own—leaving a vacancy in the pasture and an ache in her heart. She has learned to flush a draining abscess and has assisted with births, both things she never thought she would be able to do. Her philosophy is “there’s not much I can’t do, just things I haven’t learned yet.”

In the early days, information was scarce. Cuykendall studied publications such as Alpacas Magazine, in which she found not only facts and figures, but also one of her first inspirations—a story about a couple in nearby Weedsport who had left lucrative corporate careers to run a successful alpaca farm. She figured, “if they can do it, why can’t I?” There were also countless road trips to alpaca clinics in Vermont, Pennsylvania, and Massachusetts with the woman from whom she had purchased her first two alpacas and who is now a best friend. For several years the Empire Alpaca Association sponsored weekend seminars for breeders and invited area veterinarians to attend for free. This helped local vets become more informed about alpaca health and more adept at treating their common ailments.

Although, Ms. Cuykendall is a past president of the Empire Alpaca Association and despite the many ribbons that adorn her display at the expo, she acknowledges a desire to shift her business model away from competition and toward education.

“If you look around at the banners, you’ll see that . . . well . . . there’s a lot of money in here—in some of these farms. I stood in the judging ring last year with a man who winters at his place in the Caribbean on one side of me and a woman who owns a professional sports team and keeps the Alpaca farm as a tax write-off on the other. Since we only have one competition—this one—for many of us [small family farms] it’s kind of like taking your backyard horse and entering him in the Kentucky Derby. There’s just this one level of competition,” Cuykendall explains.

With degrees in psychology and counseling, and years of experience, she is well suited to transition into teaching, working with young people, and providing a wider range of alpaca services and learning experiences on the farm, “almost like a riding stable would, if we were talking about horses” says Cuykendall. She would also like to see the current show system expanded to include an introductory level for youth.

Song Meadows welcomes visitors and students to the pastures that overlook scenic Skaneateles Lake. It offers classes, a one-week summer camp for kids and is the only certified Alpaca Mentor Farm in New York State answering a steady stream of questions from people new to the alpaca industry.

When asked whether her alpacas have their own personalities, she laughs and says, “Oh yes, they’re all individuals.” Bocephus, for example, is the farm’s P.R. guy. Although, aspects of his fleece make him a less successful competitor, he is a social butterfly and a steady companion for younger Yanni. “The very first time I put a halter on him, when he was a baby, he thought nothing of a visit to the OnCenter [a convention center in Syracuse] with his mom. He was completely comfortable walking on city streets and meeting people,” explains Cuykendall who accompanies Bocephus to his craft-fair, pre-school, and nursing home engagements.

As Expo visitors stroll by her display of un-dyed caramel, beige and charcoal colored fibers—spun, woven and knit into fine garments—Cindy Cuykendall of Song Meadows spins farm-raised fibers into yarn. Her fingers deftly twist the roving (airy ropes of loosely gathered fibers). She glances up frequently, eager to answer questions and make introductions. As the next class of competitors is called to the show ring, Bocephus pauses, hay dangling from the corner of his mouth and from his bangs to greet his next admirer with a soft hum and a blink of his loopy lashes.

© Colleen Kiefer, Kiefer Creative | 2015

For more photos of the Song Meadows herd, visit my Flickr.com album at: Visit Song Meadows Alpacas at Flickr.com

The All-Inclusive, Over-the-Top, Strap-It-Down-With-a-Bungee-Cord Car Camping Checklist
For the Happy Camper Who Wants Everything

Three bears at retro station wagon

Some campers are content to throw a pair of swim trunks into the backseat, strap a kayak to the roof-rack and declare themselves ready to go. I prefer to bring at least a tube of sunscreen, a bag of M&Ms, and the kayak paddles. Others find hauling their provi­sions in a pack on hunched shoulders more satisfying. I, on the other hand, prepare for all possible comforts when heading, in an overloaded station wagon, to a mountain campsite. Leave no bungee cord unstretched, no crevice unstuffed, no beach ball behind. Hence, the all-purpose car camping checklist. I’ve scratched it onto note paper dozens of times, checked each item off as it was loaded and then used it to start the fire. May this one serve you well as the clouds roll in, the insects descend, and the marshmallows roast. Happy camping!
Colleen Kiefer
©Kiefer Creative 2015. All rights reserved.

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Earlier this year, I encountered Zentangle™. I don’t remember if Amazon “pushed” one of it’s titles to me or if I plucked Joy of Zentangle: Drawing Your Way to Increased Creativity, Focus, and Well-Being from a shelf at Barnes & Noble. But, I soon began to horde a small cache of Zentangle books and supplies with very good intentions. I would master the delightful doodle and be a better designer for it. Finally, months later, I actually opened one of the books and began to “tangle,” daily—almost. The book I’ve been using is One Zentangle A Day—A 6-Week Course In Creative Drawing For Relaxation, Inspiration, and Fun by Beckah Krahula. Although, I haven’t completed each lesson in one day, I am hooked.

Zentangle is defined by its developers, Maria Thomas and Rick Roberts, on their Zentangle.com website, as:

“The Zentangle Method is an easy-to-learn, relaxing, and fun way to create beautiful images by drawing structured patterns. Almost anyone can use it to create beautiful images. It increases focus and creativity, provides artistic satisfaction along with an increased sense of personal well being. The Zentangle Method is enjoyed all over this world across a wide range of skills, interests and ages. We believe that life is an art form and that our Zentangle Method is an elegant metaphor for deliberate artistry in life.”

The yoga-like practice of daily drawing as meditation has appealed to me for years. Regular training of my creativity muscles the way a musician practices her instrument makes sense to me. Although I have explored similar approaches to drawing in the past with Betty Edwards’s 1989 Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain, and Frederick Franck’s, 1973, Zen of Seeing: Seeing/Drawing as Meditation, I have demonstrated about as much discipline as a third-grader with a dusty clarinet.

One mid-August morning as I sat on my brother’s deck—pen in hand, he looked over and said, “Zentangle? I’ve done that with my students before. They love it.” He’s an art teach in the suburbs of Albany, NY. “You know, I’ve got a class in the middle school this year, maybe I’ll start them off with that. Every time I’ve introduced Zentangle to a class and they get going, it gets really quiet. They just get completely absorbed even if they came in complaining that they can’t draw.”

I’m not yet sure whether Zentangle is an art form, a practice, a healing therapy, or a warm-up exercise for artists and designers much as running scales is for a musician. Nor am I sure how long my newfound commitment will last. I am pleased, however, to have picked up a pen (several actually), sharpened my pencils and supplied myself with paper and, for a little while each day, to have loosened my grip on mouse and keyboard.

Here is a peek into my sketchbook:

First attempt at Hollibaugh, Jonquil, Poke Root, and Fescu and Nekton
First attempt at Hollibaugh, Jonquil, Poke Root, and Fescu and Nekton
First try at Knights Bridge, Fescu, Tipple etc.
First try at Knights Bridge, Fescu, Tipple etc.
Sketchbook pages showing Mooka Zentangle practice, Poke Root, Flux etc.
Sketchbook pages showing Mooka Zentangle practice, Poke Root, Flux etc.
Poke Root, Jonquil, Hollibaugh variations
Poke Root, Jonquil, Hollibaugh variations

“There was nothing like a Saturday – unless it was the Saturday leading up to the last week of school and into summer vacation. That of course was all the Saturdays of your life rolled into one big shiny ball.” 

― Nora Roberts, Rising Tides

As we touched down in Colorado Springs, having been routed away from Denver’s thunder and lightening, the young woman beside me woke from the fog of a 30-hour journey back from Europe. As we waited, impatiently, for the storm to clear, she asked me what we planned to do in Colorado.

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