Last season’s geraniums owe their life to this antique volume. Every year I dread the task of pulling out the potted gardens and tossing away the plants I can’t squeeze onto the windowsill or rationalize the possibility of overwintering. When a friend loaned me this old copy of the 1973 book I suspected it could be dangerous, making the case for plants as more sentient being that not. Top of my winter reading list, my fears are justified. And yes, my teeny foyer is packed with all manner of geraniums and ivy wound topiaries, etc., sheltering from the most frigid of winter’s days (like today) and out on more temperate days for a quick shot of the sun’s life affirming rays.
Here’s the reward, bright January blooms from a grateful resident. Apologies to those who’ll need to step through the foyer forest for the next couple of months while these guys wait to take up residence outside for spring and summer.
Not. Buying. Any. More. Plants. Read at your own risk. :)
Time for the November butterfly (see calendar page at the end). It’s my favorite… blue morpho (the photo in the middle is from a visit to a butterfly habitat a few years back). This time of year I’m up to my eyeballs in metal everywhere, so change of pace – this one is a paper mache & fabric carnivale mask, see the process unfold. You never know when you need to hide.
The September butterfly is the eastern tiger swallowtail, papilio glaucus, one I spent a lot of time with this year. It’s featured on my summer magnet! Much drawing and fussing over this particular critter ensued. So for right now, no metal… my drawings will have to do. Oh, and by chance, the tattered, ephemeral beauty above was kind enough to alight on my patio for her final moments. So when time allows I’d bet a silver memorial will be forthcoming.
from the calendar’s September page:
and my completed magnet, which I’ve sent with summer orders & generally handing around to whomever turns up-
The July butterfly is the red-spot jezebel… see the calendar page photo for my 2016 butterfly project (one butterfly each month as they appear on the calendar. Mine perches sideways in copper and silver on a delicate silver band, size 8.
High summer is underway, lots of fluttering going on!
Artists make up these wacky projects to get themselves to do things, often they are personal challenges throughout the course of a given year. I’ve not been so inclined. But this year I’ve tripped over one. I happen to have a calendar of 12 months of butterflies. Hmmm… 12 months of butterflies?
January, the first page, is the european peacock butterfly. Here in sterling silver, copper, garnet & amethyst. I won’t tell you the undone tasks of January. But I’ll blame that on the european peacock. No earthly way to know if 2016 will actually result in 12 butterflies, or just what form they may take. Let’s just see what happens.
Yay!!!!! With much congratulations & love to my cousin on graduation day. One of a kind, just like you.
PS: Many thanks to Grandma’s most excellent courier service.
Unlock a few hearts.
I swore I’d be drawing a fruit a week after my daylong workshop on oil pastels. Oh well, maybe a fruit a month. But these New Jersey peaches were too good to miss. Featured recently in the NY Times, local peaches are worth an extra trip and a few extra bucks. Find the fun article here listing the sources if you want to grab a few while they are still available in our area. These are from the Demarest Farms in Hillsdale.
Drawing has a longer shelf life than fruit. It’s already time to polish off these babies. But the takeaway is that both a peach and a drawing are worthy of making some time for. Both will quickly elude you if you don’t make a point of them. The real life peach is much more of a master work than my little sketch. I wasn’t sure if I could get these to be peaches at all, but they shaped up in the end. Now if I could only get some practice I may actually get the hang of it. The zinnias are starting to bloom, looking much like a subject in the making…
or maybe these radishes from the farm… eat it? draw it?