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in flight

I do not know if I would have looked down upon this leaf as it lay on the ground and thought bird, but it does make me smile to know that a friend did think such a thing of this leaf and then went on to think that I might like to have it and so she safely tucked it away until she could give it to me as a gift.  I took it home and placed it in a bowl with other leaves and stones.  Every now and then I’d glance at it and squint and try to see through my friend’s eyes.  Somehow it was this morning that I looked upon it and saw the bird in flight.

new growth

sweet wild rice

two black angels

This morning I had a dream about two wonderfully portly smiling charcoal-skinned angels.  Now I know how the brain can pull together all sorts of images and concepts in an attempt to help one stay in bed.  I had already hit the alarm twice.  My brain was working overtime to keep me settled in the warmth.  You see, I do have a dark angel in the house — a holiday ornament of a little brown girl with close cropped hair.  For days I had been humming that song by Radiohead about black eyed angels swimming with me. And yesterday a certain painter hinted that he was feeling inspired by William Blake.  So, of course, I had pulled up William Blake images to view his vision of humanity in all its earthy, robust glory. So why wouldn’t I dream of black-eyed, dark-skinned angels smiling at me? Later I decided to take a break in my day and google such a scene.  Imagine my surprise at what I found.

In the late 1890s, photographer George N. Barnard had photographed the daily life of South Carolina’s denizens in all their various shades.  In an ode to Raphael’s angels, he had two young African American boys pose with pondering expressions upon their faces.  Eventually he (or someone else?) placed wings upon their backs to complete the scene.

black angels 3

I’ve already tracked down a biography about Mr. Barnard, a famed American Civil War photographer.  I’m looking forward to learning more about him, and of the story behind this photograph of the South Carolina Cherubs.  But if you already know the story, please share.

sunlight on the mystic

Traveling by foot to the Mystic River can be a bit harrowing from where I live.  There’s nothing like crossing a major highway, at a legitimate pedestrian crossing, without a crosswalk signal.  But when you reach the river, it is worth it.

When I told my family in Virginia that for my birthday I chose to go walking along the seashore, many responded with horror.  “Wasn’t it cold?” they asked.  “Yes,” I said, “and windy too.  So I had to keep my head down.”  And this is what I saw.

Are the holidays especially hectic for you too?  If so, I highly recommend you steal away to a quiet corner and read this image essay by poet and artist Donald Langosy.  A treat for the eyes and soul, I’d say. 😉  http://talkingwriting.com/image-essay-donald-langosy/

"The Metaphysician and Monsignor" © Donald Langosy

“The Metaphysician and Monsignor” © Donald Langosy

… but sometimes, it is.  This day’s activity began with a desire to start sending out holiday cards.  Inspired by recent interactions with children of all ages and with artists from many different backgrounds, I decided to err on the side of curiosity and creativity.  For a while I had been wondering if I could transform one of my postcards (a simple stand of trees) into holiday stationery.   Today I decided to go for it.  I searched my supplies for white glitter to mimic snow upon dark branches but all I could find was gold glitter and a little blue, a bunch of old papers and stickers, some scissors and a bit of glue.  And so …

In the end, I expect I will send them to my youngest friends and family (or those who are quite young at heart), and who do not mind a bit of sparkle in their mailbox. 😉

interior of a found shell

Fading Light