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One Chocolate

 

One Clementine

Over the past few years, one of the great pleasures in my creative journey has been making the acquaintance of the Langosy family.  Collaborating with illustrator Zoe Langosy has helped me view my photography in new ways and develop an evolving appreciation for collage.  Her sister Hadley is a creative web designer but it is her photography that moves me with the ethereal beauty of her images. Mother Elizabeth Langosy is an editor and writer whose words always make me think more deeply about the craft of writing.  As for my most recent Langosy inspiration?  That would be patriarch, Donald.  Each time I have the honor of visiting the Langosy home, I enter and fall into the worlds he has created on canvas. I only slightly exaggerate.

The canvases, of which there are many, loom large.  Each frame contains a story with a single moment captured.  Just barely.

In just about every painting I’ve seen there is an act in progress, a transformation taking place.  There is motion.  Whimsy abounds …

… as does a celebration of nature …

… and of travels …

… and most definitely of love.  As he will tell you immediately in person and notes in his writing, his wife is his muse and often his model.

I have always admired artists that meld light and color to tell a powerful story.  While I do love Mr. Langosy’s use of color, what especially inspires me about his work is the poetry in his paintbrush.  Even before I read his artist statement and learned of his literary beginnings, I could see the love of myth,magic and lore on his canvases.

On the Isle of Prospero by Donald Langosy

Given that he’s been painting since the 1970’s, it takes time to view Mr. Langosy’s work.  I hope quite soon that he has a major public exhibition but until then view his paintings, sculpture, and more online:  The Art of Donald Langosy An Obsure Moment Justified

Enjoy! 😉

One Apple

Sunday at the Arboretum

Apparently each year I have to relearn that I am sensitive to cold.  So, out and about on a late afternoon hike at the Arboretum, I didn’t last long before there was concern I might lose some fingers and toes.  But before packing up and heading home for tea, there were some glorious sights to be seen.  It is truly amazing the vivid colors present throughout the park with winter just days away.

Actually, an image of steam rising from a couple of eggs I boiled for a young friend’s lunch yesterday.

I guess the sun was shining through the kitchen window just right.  Or I just happened to look over my shoulder at the right time.  I’ve been trying to get better at planning photo shoots and selecting items to photograph.  I must say, I would never have thought to photograph steam.  Until now.

It was captivating to watch the patterns appear and disappear.

I must say the next time I boil an egg I’ll be curious to see how the light is shining into the room. 😉

 

This is just to say …

… that since yesterday’s post, still no plums have I eaten, but a friend did share a poem. 😉

 

This Is Just To Say

I have eaten

the plums

that were in

the icebox

and which

you were probably

saving

for breakfast

Forgive me

they were delicious

so sweet

and so cold

by  William Carlos Williams

 

Today, I could stand it no longer.  I raced to the grocery store in the rain.  You see, over the past couple of weeks I read two very different literary works that had me hungering to purchase specific food items.  For what purpose?  Photography followed by consumption.  First I read Elizabeth Langosy’s article, A.S. Byatt’s Plums.  In a nutshell, the article explores the challenge for writers in conveying sensory experiences to the reader.  It is a powerful read accompanied by visually striking images of plums that have yet to leave my mind.  I couldn’t find them in the store today, but thankfully I did find green beans.  You see, I had also read Mary Oliver’s poem, Beans.

In Oliver’s same book, she writes of walking through blueberry fields and of gathering honeyed blossoms with crispy seeds.  But in the grocery store, the blueberries did not jump into my basket nor did bottles of bright gold honey.  I did buy one red pepper and a bit of garlic to stir fry with the green beans.

After one last look for plums,  I found an asian pear on sale.  FYI, later at home, after a bit of slicing and dicing, that made a tasty snack!

I also found sitting alone at the bottom of a shallow basket, a passion fruit.  In my literary frame of mind, I was instantly reminded of the women’s travel magazine called Passion Fruit that I had found very inspiring when I first dabbled at travel writing.  I bought it and, once home,  immediately sliced into it.

I have since learned that I probably should not have sliced it open just yet, but there is a part of me that is not sorry to see such pale beauty.

 

Like a Sunset

A dried rose over a bowl of water.