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.
After a long, but lovely day at an indoor art fair, I couldn’t wait to experience the perfect, sunny day. I got barefoot as quickly as possible and parked myself on the deck. This was the view overhead.
After the long wait, spring still manages to surprise me. I especially admire those blooms that arrive well before any foliage. They are especially plucky. I hope they remain undaunted when the snow comes…
Landscape revisited. Monochromatic. Horizonless. No sunsets, waterfalls, grand vistas. All this picture needs is one tiny star…do you see it?
47/365: winter leaves
One to get lost in. The frost blankets the leaves with an animal softness that belies the harshness of the cold. It has all the intricate crystalline beauty of the ice formations playing off the organic curves and lingering color of the ivy.
Four days of sporadic downpours. Water in the basement. Mud everywhere. And bunches of tender, new leaves already on the ground. Today’s gift of sunshine was so welcome; I think we all grew an inch under those nurturing rays.