These submerged landscapes that so easily mixes sky and forest, water and earth have always caught my interest. Little portraits reimagined of a familiar place taken a few years ago that are both so serene and mutable.
I love that this simple palette that stirs together these colors of sky and water until they are one. I started composing these submerged landscapes with these thoughts of how the pond had taken up every quality of the nature that surrounded it until it had transformed into all that was other.
I don’t doubt that many fairy tales tell stories of this reflection. Housed in this handmade frame, I think this particular shade (a Venetian blue) is a fitting home and reminds of the landscapes that inspired so many artist’s past. It is both archival and inviting place to somehow house this landscape that never quite minds where one things ends and another starts .
PS: Along with this interchangeable scene, I’ve finished some simple portraits of wayside flowers. It’s always good not to take the little things for granted.
In this wide world were I could only dream of traveling, what stories have been told in words unknown and languages never heard. These sister tongues now often so estranged from each other, might still tell a common tale if only they had the time for a reunion of sorts.
Photo credit: Minna Sundberg
I have been squeezing in time for my first online course ” Miracles of Human Language: An Introduction to Linguistics.” It has been a long time since I was in college classroom and it’s still strange to think that a world of knowledge is just there, on computer screen just resting on my lap as I sit comfortably at home on our couch.
Otherwise, I’m sorting through several boxes of older projects (like the carved gnome house above). I’ve loved working on them all, but realize that the time may have come to part with some to make new for new ones. I hope to have a list and new photos soon, but if you recall something you saw a while ago that you had interest in, please just let me know.
I finished some new sets of horses (currently in stock with black, auburn and golden manes), as well as starting some painted sketches and landscapes in scraps of wood. The first is of some far away hills over a Venetian blue sky.
Back to work for now but thanks so much for visiting and have a great week!
How it’s rained! It has been all downpours and showers these past days in a grey world turning lush. Except for my impatience to start a garden (our planting zone must mostly wait until the Memorial Day weekend) and feel warm sunshine, spending time inside nestling with a new project feels very good.
From inside I watch the rain turn the grass green again and branches buds begin to open.
I cannot help but think of all the enchanted fairy tales that sprout silently in the forest as once sleeping shoots and roots giving birth to a new story waiting to be written.
My daughter came home with this beautiful linoleum block she made. And while the print remains at school, I am very eager to print it myself and see this lovely scene.
Impatient once again I think, but I can’t remember seeing a friendlier, happier little bat!
I am gathering these small begins and drawing the landscape of the story that is soon to come. More soon!
It was a time and place were there were few distractions, before broadband had ether and television waves travelled through the air. Even before the radio and telephone were given voice, in the rooms once called parlours (what would the modern day equivalent be if there were one?) , people gathered to pass the time in each others company.
And after all the card games and gossip grew old, the time was passed with any number of parlour games. Guessing games and otherwise, rules complex and learned, in this back room filled with curiosities, the layered scents of earthiness carried in on so many footsteps and the sweetness of all growing plants from a long growing season mingled with still dusty shelves of old books and peppered with spice and citrus notes from the household, these distant memories still lie nearby today.
Despite a mild winter and warmer days, spring still seems surprising hesitant. Uncertain whether to move forward or stay still. While unlike the last years, with mountains of snow and ice slowly receding, this spring is quiet, barely changing brown and tan landscape and spring appears to have stalled. Is this an internal memory of winters past or some private insight that it’s still too soon.
Still I can’t help but be impatient. I want to walk barefoot on soft moss. I want to look unbelievingly at green world again. Like me, this little herd of mine feels pretty much feels the same. They are eager and without
hesitation to race in new fields abundant with wildflowers.
I’ve put these friendly creatures on sale , even as a cold damp rain lingers over the start of this week. A spring fever that has set in however too early it may be.