Feeds:
Posts
Comments

At least that’s what I saw as the sky darkened before a storm.

colorful clutter

Last night I stood in the kitchen, trimming the sage, snipping dead thyme and bundling dry lavender branches.  It kept my hands busy as I talked with a friend.  In the end I tossed the litter haphazard on a white piece of paper that just happened to be on the table.  In the morning I rose, drank my coffee and prepared to sketch out my day.  And then of course I glanced at the paper, at the textures and colors, the shadows in transit… what could I do but run to get my camera?   A few more leaves crushed, petals pulled from various nooks, colored paper unfolded, an old bird’s nest found …  and somehow my morning became special.

 

After the herbs …

… I gave myself permission to play around with the flowers.

In the Kitchen

A short break in the kitchen with a few herbs, spices and small squares of Japanese paper.

Imagine the troubadours of old as they walked the back roads of … some quiet place, with mandolins or banjos in-hand, a song on their lips and through those songs telling stories.  Not of fantasy or fiction.  They sang stories of lives simply lived.  That is the imagery conveyed by a conversation with Clay Rice about how music influences his visual art.  You see, Mr. Rice is famed for his silhouettes of children, nature and life along the Lowcountry of South Carolina.

He carries on a family tradition, first made notable by his grandfather, Carew Rice.  Most of the biographies I found about the Rices emphasized their artistry with paper, but during our brief chat, Mr. Rice made it clear that music has always been a part of his family’s life, and that songs have always been woven into his work, especially his children’s books.  Read more of our conversation here.  Enjoy!

the purple files

In sorting through photos for various projects, I came across a cache of purple.  Now I have the urge to buy some purple marbles at the toy store, an eggplant and some grapes from the farmer’s market, and maybe pick up some purple paint chips from the hardware store.  Who knows what purples may appear in the near future.  Maybe I’ll even photograph a purple crayon. 😉

“Sometimes we do not know what we know until it comes through the soles of our feet, the embrace of a tender lover, or the kindness of a stranger.  Touching the truth with our minds alone is not enough.  We are made to touch it with our bodies.”  — Barbara Brown Taylor in An Altar in the World

Raspberry Dreams

When I looked outside my ktichen window this morning I saw a blanket of clouds covering the sky.  Every color was muted.  People moved by at a meandering pace with umbrellas tucked beneath their arms.  No one seemed particularly sad or depressed by the weather, just lost in thought, as if walking in a waking dream.  Dreams … that’s what I thought of as I snapped these photos of raspberries from this morning’s breakfast.