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Posts Tagged ‘imagination’

Recently, a friend invited me to join her for an “art-in,” and there she provided me with paper, pens and watercolors and encouraged me to paint whatever came to mind.  I decided to paint what I call a little somerset sky.

a somerset sky

a somerset sky

Its origin is this:  Of late, W. Somerset Maugham’s  Of Human Bondage has found its way into my hands, and there is a particular color-filled passage that I return to.  It is near the end of the book.  After an eventful night, Philip Carey, the main character …

“He leaned against the parapet and looked toward the morning.  At that hour the great city was like a city of the dead. The sky was cloudless, but the stars were dim at the approach of day; there was a light mist on the river, and the great buildings on the north side were like palaces in an enchanted island.  … It was all of an unearthly violet, troubling somehow and awe-inspiring; but quickly everything grew pale, and cold, and grey.  Then the sun rose, a ray of yellow gold stole across the sky, and the sky was iridescent .”

Thanks, Carol, for the opportunity to put brush to paper.  More about Carol’s beautiful artwork later this summer.

Have a good day, folks. 😉

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At the beginning of May, I did a post, spring images through the double rippled glass.  Now that May nears its end, and the weather is almost consistently warm, one set of windows has been removed.  And guess what? The remaining window is a bit pitted and rippled in places too!

The bright gold forsythia flowers visible in the previous post are gone, but as I recently tried to convince a young friend, even with no flowers, green plants and hanging vines are quite beautiful.

Through the single pane, the morning light seems to shine differently, and the spring winds seem to send the vegetation moving in a different dance. My imagination is still stirred at what’s captured just by pausing for a moment.  The following image reminds me of Munch’s The Scream … though in a happier way.

And these images (only the last one altered in GIMP) remind me of those forest portals where reside dragons and other magical folk … though that thought must be influenced by recent viewings of Game of Thrones.

And, if I lift my camera above the spring green, and look up into the sky?  This is what I see, through the rippled glass.

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One day I found myself walking along, looking at the world around me.  I passed a stand of birch and I found myself thinking, if I only knew how to paint, I’d paint these trees.  I kept moving along, but the sight of the trees remained in my mind and I found myself thinking, if only I could write music then maybe I could write a song about the trees.  But I know I don’t write music and so I started thinking, if only I could sing then maybe I could find someone else to write the music, but that would only work if I wasn’t shy. Now, I don’t really think I can sing but sometimes when I’m sure I’m alone, some kind of sound passes between my lips.  And so that day, with all those if’s put out into the world, I decided to go ahead and try that singing thing.  The following soft words emerged in some kind of rhythm.

If I knew how to paint

I’d paint these trees

How the wind does make them sway

Their leaves sunlit

Their branches bent

While high above soars a bird

Nothing Earth-shattering but it did make me feel good to sing and then hum the song for a bit.  Only later did I realize that the tune (if that’s the right word) that I used for my trees was for that of Amazing Grace, a point made clear when I viewed one of today’s Cowbird Daily stories.  The video short is an excerpt from the journey of another walker, Andrew Forsthoefel.  I hope you have a chance to view and listen to the video for yourself.  And by the way, that picture above … there must have been a day when I forgot that I couldn’t paint. 😉

Amazing Grace

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“Never ridicule windows.  It is out of windows that many fall to their death.  By windows love often enters. Through a window went the bolt that killed King Richard.  … When a mob would rule England, it breaks windows, and when a patriot would save her, he taxes them.  Out of windows we walk on to lawns in summer and meet men and women, and in winter windows are drums for the splendid music of storms … The windows of the great cathedrals are all their meaning. But for windows we should have to go out-of-doors to see daylight. After the sun, which they serve, I know of nothing so beneficent as windows.” — by Hilaire Belloc in The Path to Rome (1902)

 

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In New England, spring means flowers but it also means arts festivals galore. The one that I’ve become most connected with is Somerville Open Studios. This year’s official SOS weekend is May 3 + May 4 with studios open across the city and easily accessible by foot and trolley cars.  Several April exhibits are also already up and running.

Maps of different exhibit locations for the main May weekend are available in every Somerville neighborhood.  The mapstands, made by artist Hilary Scott, are quite distinctive and kept regularly stocked by volunteers.

The show is one of the largest of its kind in the U.S.  You can read more about its unique history here. And you can learn more about participating artists via this link.  Each year it is inspiring for me to see how involved the artists are, at every level, in making the show a success for everyone.

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You never know what pattern will be revealed.

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Where do you find beauty?  I find it in the strangest, most wonderful of places, like peering through the window glass.  I hope you enjoy the following essay, Finding Beauty, now appearing at Creativity-Portal.com, an award-winning website that helps one explore, nurture and express creativity.

a neighboring tree

a neighboring tree

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I’m sure my mother would be appalled at how dusty I allow my windows to remain.  Yet occasionally when I glimpse the morning, afternoon or evening light striking the chalky surfaces, what I see is a strange beauty.

And when such a sighting occurs … which is probably far too often … I try to capture something of what I see.  I move fast and don’t think about camera settings, and so sometimes my camera is unfocused.

Or I purposefully try to zoom in ways that I know my little camera really can’t do but I do it anyway because I suspect I might see something really cool on the camera display.  And I do.

What I see on the camera display will sometimes … not always, but sometimes … make me smile or make me wonder.  No specific words will come to mind, just a sensibility that can sometimes be hard to explain.  Those feelings are all the motivation I need to keep shooting for just a bit longer.

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During the photo shoot for the white series, a petal became dislodged.  And what an unexpected treat.

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The gentlemen at the muffler shop next door lost a bevy of their balloons but they were caught, quite gently, by the oak tree towering above the house.  I was reminded of The Red Balloon, a movie that I have not seen since I was a child but I feel a need to look it up.

Also caught was a plastic bag that in this morning’s light with its twists and turns about the branches reminded me of a nautilus shell.

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