Saturday, March 31, 2012

Sofas and Afternoon Naps


Walking into the living room yesterday afternoon, I found the sofa beckoning. Sunlight was streaming thought the window and it was all I could do not to lie down and have a snooze. The only reason I resisted was that I had done exactly that the day before, waking up 2 hours later. I blamed the gingersnaps a friend had made. They must have had sleeping pills in them. Today I resisted and went back to work. But it did look so inviting.


Sunlight on the Sofa



Thursday, March 29, 2012

The Blues of Water

It's strange that when I think of the color of water in the pond, I think of peat, of forest floor, shades of moss and gold; and forget that at this time of year, before the trees leaf out, it reflects the sky. Blue in varieties my eyes have missed. There is something so mesmerizing about watching water: the wind scudding across the surface, the patterns of the wavelets, the reflections of the trees, and the glint of the sun. My mind empties and I watch.

The blues of water

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Lovely Pleasures

Yesterday there was snow on the ground with a fierce wind blowing about. I watched the grackles play with the wind, soaring, riding the currents up and down. Every once and a while they would flip themselves over and fly upside down; then they would see if they could glide in a circle, egging each other on and cheering at their success. Over at the pond the drake and the hen were bathing. It took me a while to see the hen; her camouflage is so good. Zoe joined me and off they flew.

Taking a bath

and taking flight

Pond water in the wind



Sunday, March 25, 2012

Playing With Light

I took a photo in the elevator last week end that has me possessed. And so I spent a couple of hours playing with it, stretching, it, changing the levels, layering it. Still not sure what it is wanting to do or what I am wanting from it, but this is the only way I know to explore what it is wanting to say.

broken light
playing with light


Friday, March 23, 2012

Yesterday and Today

We are watching the earliest spring in my memory. Green is sprouting everywhere. The poplars are wearing their halos and the biggest treat was the sound of the frogs and peepers today. The ice went out of the pond about an hour after the top photo was taken, the one below, the day before. A bit of rain this afternoon and the scent of our world is intoxicating. Sandalwood is the closest description I can think of. While I love the monastic simplicity of winter, my heart beats faster to the sensual pleasures of spring.

This morning

Yesterday

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

At The Pond

Signs of winter are in fast retreat. Bits of dirty snow lying about, mostly close the the edge of the woods. The ice on the pond gets darker by the day and is pulling back from the edges. I can hardly wait to hear the peepers. The beech trees are beginning to shed their leaves, which have given me such pleasure all winter, as their color fades to transparent. The tall stocks of echinacea have lost most of their seed leaving behind the broken heads denuded of bristles.The pond ice is beginning to show cracks, traversing its width and length. More beautiful marks to watch.

At the pond, March 20

Monday, March 19, 2012

Sunrise On The 401

We woke up early and decided to head for home. Left in a thin fog and about 7 a.m. were treated to an epic sunrise. I love that hour of dawn. In front of our eyes the mist lifted and lowered, and lifted again, and the earth turned and the sun rose.


While I was working on the grid of photos, I put one in that was way to big, but I was as excited to see these colors of dawn so clearly.



Friday, March 16, 2012

Snowdrops Are Blooming

I dug one out of the garden to try an experiment; laying it on the scanner bed with a box over it.  I wanted to see if I could get an almost photographic image, without flattening the snowdrop. Not quite what I was after. Mind you it might have worked out better if I had cleaned the scanner bed. Then I got my darling to hold the snowdrop while I took photos. He's a good man. The scent is so delicate and sweet and I love the slender vein that holds the flower to the stock. And yes, I took it outside and replanted. Seems just fine after the adventure.

Scanner snowdrop

A beautiful neck

wish you could smell it



Wednesday, March 14, 2012

More Chairs

Chairs seem to be haunting me. Not only is the studio, well actually the hallway, but let's not quibble; full of chairs for The Chair Project, I realized that I can't stop taking photos of chair shadows. Jung would love me. The early morning spring light is wonderful and draws on the walls and furniture; and if there is anything in her way she bounces about casting layers of shadows. The black and white world of winter is retreating into the woods; green, brown and magenta are appearing and I expect more color will start to appear in my work. Mind you, I've been wrong before.

Gone, 2012

Monday, March 12, 2012

Snowdrops and Chairs

Yesterday was all glorious sun and warm. The first snowdrops poked up their heads, their flower pods ready to open. It's one of the miracles of spring. One day all is white, the next, tender green emerges.

And the chairs are coming in for The Chair Project. The work is amazing, funny, rude, tender, beautiful, funky; a variety of moods and personalities. Here is a sneak preview. From the left Denise Lamy, Louise-Andrée Roberge, Isobel Williams with her son Jack Weston [that's Jack in the picture], Jean Gaudet and David Griffin. To see more of these artists check out their links on The Chair project Blog [link here].

The 1st snowdrops

The Chair Project


Saturday, March 10, 2012

Yesterdays List

1. Moonlight glinting on the stream
2. Soft mud underfoot
3. Grackles are back
4. Stone walls exposed
5. Lovely slanted light
6. Clean the floor

Lovely slanted light

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Doing Laundry

Yesterday I was getting caught up on some of those basic household chores, that you just kind of get done, not paying to much attention, thinking of the next job to do, when I caught sight of the sheets drying over the chairs in the kitchen. My heart stood still. The quality of the light was so exquisite on my now clean, white sheets. And I wondered how many more moments like this, I miss in my busyness.

Drying sheets

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Little Bird Marks

Yesterday was really cold and the chickadees were all puffed up and ravenous. We filled the feeder 3 times. And so for them and the hours of pleasure they bring, I photographed their foot prints; a wonderful arrow shape. The light dusting of snow really helped them leave their marks. I think I should have called this one Start from the Center.

The chickadee poem in 3 lines

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Water Worlds

There has been a lot of extreme weather about lately. Vicious tornados in the States, flooding in Australia: a hard and scary time for a lot of people. Here the wind is howling as I write this and we are going through the usual pre-spring gamut of conditions with various stages of water about, snow, rain, ice pellets, icicles and puddles. And with the macro lens, I am still trying for that elusive water drop but until that moment these will do.
Another water drop

Condensation on the kitchen window

Friday, March 2, 2012

The Minimal House

Everyday I watch the sun move further and further north and the days get longer and longer. And while we are not finished with winter yet, the quality of light in the house makes a huge difference. Shadows change their position on the white walls, light fills the rooms to bursting.


Light on the walls