Week 17: perseverance

While I haven’t posted in two months, I have faithfully continued with the daily photo capture save maybe a day or two. I decided that the project was worth continuing, no matter how far behind I’d got. So, here goes…remember spring? Photos April 23-29.

113/365: anglers, minnesota river valley

I don’t fish but I’m somewhat fascinated by this activity because it involves so much patience. Personally, I would rather sit and stare at the water without any expectation of catching something. Then I see how these people standing ankle-deep in the water are so like egrets along the shore, steadfastly pursuing that one goal.

114/365: plastic tarps with field stone

Found sculpture. An assemblage of folds and materials. The plastic not quite transparent, marked by dust, time and toil. Held against the wind by a single well-placed stone.

115/365: tracks, minnehaha creek

I enjoy noting the comings and goings of various creatures – like a traffic camera of rush hour. This duck launch was a particular active spot of mud at water’s edge.

116/365: pink magnolias

A showstopper in one of the prettiest shades of pink I’ve ever seen.

117/365: R.V.

Freedom: The open road, a home on wheels, seeking out the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, whatever that means to you.

118/365: bleeding hearts

A favorite flower of spring, dripping with love and baring its hearts for all to see.

119/365: the tree outside my window

A near-miss on a long art fair day. Thankful, as always, to see this tree outside my studio before closing the blinds.

 

week nine: seven pictures

Greetings! I’m excited to offer limited edition archival prints of select images from the 365 project starting this week.

Archival matte inkjet prints on cotton rag. Signed and numbered limited editions of 25.

11 x 14 (or 12 x 12 for square images) unless otherwise noted. Printed in my studio. $40.

Look for the “BUY” button below the picture. Or, visit my website to see all available 365 Limited Edition prints. Want free shipping? Join my email list.

Please contact me directly with questions or to place custom orders.

Thank you for your interest. And now, to the pictures…

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57/365: holding on

This is kind of a novelty image – the last remaining bit of the tree that grew right around a power line – but it got me to thinking. When is holding on a virtue – a sign of grit and perseverance? When is it detrimental, futile or foolish? When is it time to let go?

 

58/365: dragon’s blood gone cold (sedum spurium)

Winter reveals the architecture of things. The bones of the trees. The flower within the flower, skeletons beneath summer’s colorful and abundant flesh.

 

59/365: glaciers receding, lake nokomis

As the lake opens up, the last holdouts of ice and snow stand out like relics. Any snow still standing at this point is likely a souvenir from the pond hockey tournament. What a contrast between that bustling, temporary city on ice to this still, desolate landscape.

60/365: freshly fallen diptych

I always admire the crisp graphic quality of black and white lines formed by freshly fallen snow on branches. There is a stillness, too, a moment before the pristine white blanket is marked and disturbed. The open water lends contrast through reflection and movement.

 

61/365: accidental gardeners

Echinacea is one of the best plants to leave standing for the winter. The prickly seed heads evolve all season as the seeds scatter. This one looks as if it’s having a bad hair day…

I imagine each seed let loose by the accidental gardener: the wind.

 

62/365: studio sunrise

It doesn’t get much easier or more spectacular than this! I am always wowed by a beautiful sunrise or set but it can be such a cliche subject to photograph. Shining through droplets of melted frost, however, the effect was truly magical.

 

63/365: let the sun shine, let the sun shine in

A sad-looking window in an empty-looking house. The bright sunshine and squiggly shadows contrast the mood of the shabby, gray curtains within, always drawn.

Week Eight: flow states

50/365: here be monsteras

The split-leaf philodendron (monstera delicious) is having a moment. Suddenly, I’m seeing their unmistakable foliage everywhere I look. I had to seek one out so I could create my very own monstera picture and was lucky enough to find one tickling the ceiling of the MN Landscape Arboretum’s sunny conservatory.

51/365: send me dead flowers

I get that Rolling Stones song in my head every time I see a dried-up blossom. Truly, though, I think these roses got more lovely as they dried and shriveled. The colors deepened and the texture took on more character. I enjoyed them fully as they faded.

52/365: on the edge of see and through

There is this moment I love when the ice begins to thaw and the snow cover is gone. The lake begins to reflect the colors of the sky again. These colors makes me feel like I’m somewhere else, in some other subarctic landscape with a different view of the tundra sun.

53/365: old black water

As much as I’ve been entranced by the ice, the sight of open water inspires a giddy feeling. This once static, frozen creek is now gushing and gurgling with life and movement. It’s the way we all feel when we cast off our layers after a long winter and feel the breeze and sunlight on our skin once more. It has an exuberance and charm that is always refreshing.

54/365: it’s all too beautiful

Open water of an entirely different nature. This one actually took my breath away! In a burst of brilliant sunlight, the wind gusts blew across growing patches of open water on Lake Nokomis creating a wave patterns I don’t recall ever seeing before. Truly stunning.

55/365: fish out of water

Sometimes I can’t resist being really cheesy. Kind of like a goldfish cracker. All I could think when I spotted this one on the sidewalk was that it looked really out of place 🙂

56/365: metamorfluxus

We’re in the period of constant flux. 60 one day. 25 the next. The water performs a trembling dance between flow and refreeze, changing forms moment to moment.