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I once wrote a short story that had so many different shades of blue sprinkled throughout that an editor wrote to ask, “Cynthia, do you think you can insert one more shade of blue?”

Now, she may have been kidding, but I can be slow about things like that.  So I went online to a site (probably Pantone) and after careful consideration decided that the sea in my story would be cerulean.  She accepted it.

Growing up in the foothills of Virginia’s Blue Ridge Mountains, it is hard not to love blue.  Plenty of blues in New England of course but …

… I look forward to visiting the mountains of my childhood, and seeing if I can capture with my camera the beauty I remember in my dreams.  You know I’ll be sure to share.  😉

butterfly distractions

While doing some very late spring cleaning, I came across two butterflies I created a few years ago.  At the time I think I was at a multi-pronged fork in the road.  As my mind mulled over next steps, I needed to keep my hands busy.  This is what I produced.

the blues

Essex, Massachusetts, 2005

 

cherries

it grew even more beautiful

its original greens and pinks (seen here) deepening into many shades of gold.

connections

the pond

A pond along the Minuteman Bikeway in Arlington, MA.  I’m not sure if the green stuff covering the surface was a good thing but it was eye-catching.

guest post: the farm

It has been a joy getting to know the Langosy family of artists.  For decades, Donald Langosy has been painting luminous works on canvas.  Wife Elizabeth Langosy is a writer and editor extraordinaire.  Daughter Hadley is a gifted photographer and sister Zoe produces illustrations gracing publications worldwide.  It is a pleasure to share the words + images of niece, Avery, embarking upon her own creative path, inspired by family and a sense of place.

The Farm

Creation, for me, is painful. In fact, I can’t create. Not from scratch. Instead I use inspirations like collage to “create”. I’ve acquired sacred things as I make my way through life, and each one contributes to everything I make. Whenever I feel used up, dry, boring, I turn to my inspirations for hope. And one of my favorites is The Farm.

I met The Farm when I was just six years old, when my Aunt Hadley introduced me. Hadley’s family has owned The Farm (in truth just a house and land) for eighty years. She grew up wandering its fields. She loved The Farm so much, she got married there. And she loved me so much, she made me her flower girl. Hadley said her vows beneath Hansen Falls, but I didn’t hear them. I was busy scrambling up that same waterfall. They had to stop the ceremony to find me. I was just exploring.  That’s why The Farm has always captivated me. It holds such promise of exploration, adventures, and secrets. There were always fairies at The Farm, and ghosts and spirits and things you couldn’t quite see but just feel. The Farm was like a different world.

Because of The Farm I love magic, ghost stories, the feeling of goose pimples, night breezes, falling stars, I love quiet. I grew up knowing I wanted to create, but not sure what. I tried stories, photography, painting, friendship bracelets…and I found film. I had my media, but I needed my inspirations.

Now I’m embarking on a new adventure at The Farm: a short film about ghost stories, fairies, the quiet of the land, and the deeper silence of a fractured relationship. Film is my media, the Farm is my muse. I just hope I can do it justice.

Avery’s short film is called Draw Down the Moon, and will be out Winter 2012. She and her fellow filmmakers are currently fundraising. See Avery and learn more at http://kck.st/SGRHEw.

Only moments before the bag had held zucchini or scallions perhaps.  Now it lay crumpled on the table fodder for my imagination as sunlight filled its cavities.

At first I thought of folds of cloth and crinkled skirts like women wore so long ago.  But then as the rays of light shifted, I imagined glaciers and ice caves illuminated in rainbow colors throughout an arctic day.

The sun soon dipped behind a building and with it most of the light but just enough remained for one last shot that made me think of a cavern opening.