Everything, all around, is so lush and green. This scene just struck me in its austerity.
I love the contrasting cheer of the bright yellow flowers -a hint of the visual racket outside the frame.
Sometimes the dog is pulling your arm and you have an art fair in the morning and your son is scooping minnows in the creek, and you’re telling him it’s time to go and then the sunlight comes and hits a big tangle of dead forest undergrowth JUST SO and it all turns into a gestural scribble, a linear sculpture, a study of light & shadow. It’s nothing really. And, yet, it’s full of movement and life and death and struggle and some little bit of grace.
Sometimes all you get is that one moment, that one shot. And then it all keeps moving.
Thinking about this whole idea of nature/landscape in harmony with the built/manmade/industrial etc. Why not a new picturesque? Evidence of our presence here on earth as PART of the landscape.
There is a tendency to hide the human elements, to capture “nature” only. That seems like a lie.
This is the first in a series I’ve been thinking about playing with. I’m still working out the ideas in my head, but the basic idea is to explore the aesthetics of human elements in the natural landscape. Stay tuned for more work in this vein and please share your thoughts on the series as it develops.
Reflections are my favorite thing to play with for the way they distort, confuse, and combine the real world into collage. And I don’t know why, but the flag often has a melancholy feeling for me. Especially in connection with people’s homes. It makes me think they’ve lost someone to war.
Spring has reached the tipping point. Suddenly, the lush green foliage is growing before our eyes with tropical zeal. We have to remind ourselves that this is the same world that stood bleak, gray and dormant not that long ago. As if waking from a deep sleep, we blink in wonder at this new reality, this dream come true.