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Posts Tagged ‘Inspiration’

The Dublin Moon Series … that’s what I’ve decided to call this week’s creations of papery moons and butterflies and tiny poetry-laced leaves.  The lunar inspiration is clear.  Dublin is in reference to that certain scientist fellow I write about on occasion.  In our time together he has been an unexpected source of creative inspiration.  He’s certainly expanded my thinking about light and angles and even about getting grubby to get the best shot.  Earlier this week he traveled to Dublin for business.  As I helped him pack, we came across a small notebook not much bigger than a matchbook.  It lay at the bottom of a bag he’d taken on a previous trip fishing on the high seas.

I remembered giving him that notebook because on that trip we wouldn’t have much phone contact.  And because I love a good story, I told him to take notes so that he could tell me later about all of his adventures with appropriate detail.  Well, upon his return he managed to tell me a very good story without ever pulling that notebook from his bag.  So nearly a year later we flipped through the pages, chuckling as he deciphered his notes.  Then he came to a phrase that made him pause.  Imagining that he had recorded seeing a mermaid, I laughed and shouted, “What is it?  What is it? What did you write?”

Well, what he had written was this:  “Let me try to see the world through her eyes.”  Now, over the years, I had gathered that as he traveled he sometimes took pictures of things for me like rose clouds in the sky and trees reflected in blue waters.  Once he had texted from a different boating adventure, “As I look out over the ocean, I see a lone butterfly and it makes me think of you.”

I did not create all of these paper works for this fellow, but I do recognize that this form provided a creative outlet for me to engage with him.  I was compelled to imagine what it was like for him to be out on that boat and seeing the butterfly over the ocean, and when he’s traveling in Japan, how he sees the red sun.  Anyway …

I think my paper period is done.  He shall be home soon, and I’ve got a backlog of writing, photography and exhibit-related tasks to focus on. Though, I must admit this morning I did find myself humming Blue Moon. 😉  And I do have a lot of blue paper left.

We’ll see …

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As you may have picked up by reading this blog over time, I am inspired by anything on any given day depending on which way the wind is blowing and how the stars are aligned.  Of late I have been inspired by autumn sun, of course, and also paper crafts.  In part, it has to do with my ongoing collaboration with collage artist Zoe Langosy, and through her and other artist friends learning of the craft of paper cutting — a craft that continues to evolve as artists find new ways to express their skill and imaginations.

As I explore the craft, I am having a lot of fun with layering papers of different colors and textures, and playing around with the concepts that I take for granted in my photography like illumination, the flow of water, and capturing winged creatures in flight.  In the above picture, I want to add a sail boat with billowing white sails.  There’s a reason why but I’ll share that reason later if I manage to make a passable sailing vessel. 😉

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This morning from the shelf I pulled the book Good Poems, selected and arranged by Garrison Keillor.  It is a wonderful compilation that I used to carry with me as I commuted for work and pleasure across Boston via the green line train.  I carried the book for its words but also for another reason.  Not only am I both calmed and inspired by poetic works, I love books of poetry because of the white space on the page.  This beautiful tome has plenty of white space.  With such space I needed only to pull a pen from my pocket to jot down errant thoughts.  To capture them to view later.  If I remembered.  Well, I’d forgotten the words written in the margins of this book nearly five years ago.  On this bright Sunday morning, I am glad I found them. — CS

August 29, 2007

His name is Herbie.  I remember that.  I’ve seen him all the years that I’ve lived up here, traveling through Copley Station.  A wee black man and his flute.  It has been awhile.  His hair has grown long and gray, and new lines etch his dark face.  His smile has not diminished.  He always says, “Hello, sweetie,” or sometimes, “darling.”  Though I place no money in his cup, his smile never fades.  His smile makes me smile, no matter what ills of the day.  He reminds me of simple pleasure.  Of greetings.

*

Her name I know not.  She told me once but I can’t remember.  She comes into Trinity on Fridays covered in cloth from head to foot like a Bedouin, except her robes are not blue but many-hued.  We both have a gap between our front teeth.  She says it is due to our British ancestry.  She likes my smile.  She says all of me, my whole being, smiles when I do.  I told her she gives me reason.

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in silhouette upon the wall

a butterfly’s four wings did fall

like blackest night

cut into lace —

a dear friend’s gift

in morning light

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I  have never seen an owl in the wild.  I have heard them though, that distinctive hoo, hoo, hoo.  They have been on my mind of late because of family and friends.   As I worked with a colleague on her daughter’s nursery one day, she shared her fondness for the winged creatures.  So ever since then, for her, I have kept an eye open for small owlish things that can be shared by mother and child.  Sometimes I keep the items for myself like the above postcard tucked in an alcove.  While my brother and I do not share a love of owls, we do share a love for the movie, The Secret of NIMH.

Secret of NIMH Theatrical Poster

I purchased the movie recently to share with a young friend.  I had not realized how much of the story I had forgotten.  As my friend and I perched on the couch, mesmerized by the story and the jewel-colored artwork, I was surprised with great joy — and my young friend with a bit of fear — as a magnificent Great Owl strode across the screen, his mammoth claws cracking the remains of past dinners, bones in all sorts of shapes and sizes. Such sights do make me wonder if this small bone I found in the woods was left by hawk or owl.

I’m not an especially nocturnal person which is probably why my path does not cross that of the owls and vice versa.   According to Massachusetts Audubon though they are everywhere across my state.  We’ll see what the future holds, especially as daylight saving time soon ends and I find myself out at dusk.  I just hope I have my camera ready so that I may eventually share some images with you.  Meanwhile, here are just a few of the many online sites that already contain wonderful images and information:

Massachusetts Audubon Owls

The Owl Pages

Cornell Lab of Ornithology:  Owls

Animal Planet: Owl Page

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I have a young friend whose favorite color is white.  I discovered this information one day as we sat on the floor with a basket full of crayons and I asked her, “What’s your favorite color?”  At first she said, “All of them,” but then she shook her head and said with great certainty, “White is my favorite!”

Now, many months later, even as we sit with a blank piece of paper and draw bright multicolored rainbows and she describes her favorite blue birds and we talk about the purple of Peep’s friend Quack and so on and so forth …  Well, if I should ask about her favorite color, she will look at me with a twinkle in her eyes and say, “White.”

So for the holidays I am putting together a custom book of white images for this young lady.  If you’re familiar with my style then you know I am mostly drawn toward illuminated colors but as I peruse my portfolio, I do see a few white images … of sorts.  Plus I am inspired to take some new pictures.    I’ve already started a list:  white feather, white rice, straight pasta, curly pasta, boiled eggs, crumpled paper, sugar, vanilla ice cream.  Other ideas of items that might visually interest a child? 😉

Every image I find, I won’t necessarily share with a four-year old, but so far it is a very fun project to review my work … and to create new work … inspired by such a young friend.

 

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In the hallway of the house with all the windows and the oak tree outside, there’s a wooden table covered by a paisley scarf.  On the scarf sit many planters filled with plants of course and also items like this turtle surrounded by sweet marjoram, and the dragonfly I found this past summer.

I have small bolts of cloth given by friends who know my love of orange, and a soft green mug also from a friend who knows, in the end, I love all colors.

And in silhouette on cream-colored walls … and both in silhouette and reflection on multiple panes of glass … there are the leaves and branches of the oak tree moving in the stiff autumn breeze making me pause and take a rest no matter what shenanigans I’m preparing to deal with that particular day.

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