It was also time to say good bye to some of the things that have made winter tolerable. The corn cobs and stalks will be tilled under; the dry weeds that are our 'flowers' during the winter will get used in nests, or fall as their replacements grow; and the sumac that provided some subtle color all winter, will start over. Thanks to them for sticking around through the winter!
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This morning was that perfect combination of factors. Enough precipitation to leave drops on the trees, cold enough for them to stay there a while, and not raining so that my camera would get wet. The droplets were hanging on to every tiny branch and reflecting the surroundings so nicely. It is amazing how after months of snow, how warm a cold drizzle can feel. A few days of this, followed by a warm day or two and things will actually start sprouting in earnest. In the meantime, the weather helps keep me inside doing what I should be doing... purging and packing. It seems each corner or cupboard or crevice just yields more decisions, memories and junk to go through. But, back to the drips... these are for you today. Next week I will get back to the memories and junk in a couple of posts! Downtown Madison has always been a place that I have loved. I grew up here, and when I was a small child (in the land before Malls) it is where we went shopping, went to church and for entertainment. State Street runs from the Capital building to the University Mall, so it is a slow metamorphosis of people from business to students, with shop owners and restauranteurs being the basis for it all. It is where the protests happened in the 1960s. It is where parades, protests,parties and people still happen. And, most recently, a huge celebration for UW getting into the Final Four! (click here for 17 reasons you should be cheering for them!) Cars are generally not allowed on the mall, buses and bikes abound. and even a firetruck now and then. It seemed only right to go check it out on one of the first warm days we have had. Besides I had just been to the accountants to pick up my taxes, and had enough of reality, so needed the fun of the street. So I started on the "square" (the area around the capital) and found this group of guys having a sunny day debate. I love the contrast between them and the reflections in the window next to them. From there I headed down State Street. The minute the warmth hits, so do the hammers and cranes. Construction is as much a part of spring in the North as are crocuses and daffodils! These guys (below) all seem to be enjoying being able to work in shirt sleeves for a change! This young woman (below) was really enjoying the day, the people watching and her cigarettes. When she saw me and my camera, she immediately produced a puff of as much smoke as she possibly could! I caught her and a friend talking on my way back up the street, but they guy passing them seemed to have a problem with them. hmmm. Wonder what the full story is here! I have always liked when an artist or several artists create many views or takes on the same subject, so while doing my other photos, I try to take pictures of this barn. It is a white barn down the road from us. I like the minimalism of the setting, The way it catches light. and how the color changes when the roof is seen or not. It also has great access for photography! Here are some of my pics of it from January, February and March.
Below are a couple of others that I really like one very edited and one not so much. I went out looking for the earliest signs of spring today. They are there; perhaps few and far between, but there! The first of the crocuses are sticking out between the fallen oak leaves. The next couple of days should be warm, so maybe they will pop up soon. But until the yellows and purple they bring, we can enjoy the ever yellowing finches. This little guy was just glowing in the sun this morning. He and his buddies were flitting in the tress and chirping away! But two of my favorite events of spring are also evident; moss and the Pasque flowers. The mosses are so green with the moistness they get from the melting snow and the sun they get before they get overpowered by everything else. This emerald green stretches along the fallen trees, the rocks and anywhere it can. I wish I could lie in a bed of it sometime, I am sure it would be soft and have the best musty earth smell ever... probably a bit on the damp side though. The Pasque flowers don't look like much yet, but they are starting to make their furry presence known. Soon the delicate lavender blooms will emerge and spot the hillside before even the grasses grow around them... They are the "dessert first" flower, holding off working on leaves until the flowers are done blooming. They are an event I wait for every year, so I will be checking the hillside frequently in the coming days.
I hope spring is sprouting around you also. It has been a longer than usual wait for too many of us this year. P.S. No post about a walk through our woods would be complete without a few pics of my tree buddies so here they are: I was cutting up all my remnants as I cleaned out my studio, and made a bunch of blankets, pillows and gift bags from the "leftovers". I have now listed them all in my Etsy main store. I was going to take them with us, and hopefully do one last show in our new home town, but decided I would rather just move lighter! These blankets are just the coziest items, I am snuggled in one most every evening! They are washable and dry-able (cold and delicate), so they are easy care also. I have priced the pillow covers in color lots at wholesale pricing - but you can take advantage of the pricing for several gifts, or for a sofa full pf beautiful pillows! And finally, a few gift bags; perfect for wine, or other liquids, or for a gift bag of several small items of food, or toiletries, or whatevers!
It is my birthday today. I am not a big one for celebrating such days, but this year it does seem rather introspective.... who knows what the future will bring in our new home and new adventures. I will be one lucky woman if my life continues with the many friends, family and opportunities that I have had up until now!
I recently saw these two pictures in Facebook posts. (reproduced here with permission) They both touched me deeply, and made me think. We were free at one time. We didn't care what matched or what is proper. We hadn't learned to be "ladylike" or even male or female for that matter. We were just human beings enjoying this thing called life... something a singer on NPR recently called the "majesty and squalor we call life". I loved that statement. I love the extremes of life - they are what make us alive. I am starting to think we waste the vast majority of out "adult" life forgetting this primal need for emotion and fun; instead we go to corporate training on creativity or spend money on tickets for someone to coordinate fun for us and validate that we experienced it. At some point we learn to keep our toys nice. We learn to be quiet in public. We learn to raise our hand. We learn to stand in line, read the directions, file taxes, follow the recipe, plan and review. We learn to check our feelings for "appropriateness", think before we speak, we learn to express love for those who are deemed deserving and withhold it from others - even if that isn't exactly how we feel! At sometime we forgot how wonderful it is to just scream - or at least talk really loud. Or scratch or dance or grovel or roll. We forget how to overly indulge our senses and how to, literally, stop and smell the roses. We forget what fun is and exchange it for "fitness" and "recreation". We forget that that seeing - really seeing - the beauty of ..... whatever is in front of us, may outdo any artwork in the museum we are scheduled to attend and pay $20 to enter. When did we lose the ability to believe we can put water where others put fire. When did we forget that a bucket can be a hat, and that Wellies feel wonderful - no matter the weather. (Perhaps we only remember that when UGGS are deemed fashionably correct by some Hollywood celeb!) No, I am not naive and suggesting that we don't need some security, and money, and probably jobs and credit cards, but maybe once in a great while, maybe even when no one is looking, we should put a bucket on our head. Maybe we should remember that being 10 minutes late for something might be okay if we drank in 10 minutes of sunset or rain, or slowly finished our last sip of coffee while actually tasting it. Maybe we should take a Power Ranger pose or lay flat on our back in the middle of the floor. If you do, I won't tell. I don't even want to know. Do it for yourself. Do it because it just plain feels good. Then get up and go be responsible and polite - but, don't forget to smile when you remember how good it felt to take that minute! A while ago the Huffington post had an article on the 18 things Highly Creative People do Differently. To see it go HERE. It is worth a read! It got me to thinking about the Photo group I am in, and the many artists I know, and the different approaches we are all taking to the challenge of taking a photo each day. In the article it says: "Openness to experience is consistently the strongest predictor of creative achievement," says Kaufman. "This consists of lots of different facets, but they're all related to each other: Intellectual curiosity, thrill seeking, openness to your emotions, openness to fantasy. The thing that brings them all together is a drive for cognitive and behavioral exploration of the world, your inner world and your outer world." I figure anyone who signs up for the picture a day must be also exhibiting the "openness to experience"! What is interesting to me is how all of these creative minds interpret the experience we call life! The faces above are an example of one of my favorite things; a variety of interpretations of a particular, singular subject by a variety of artists. It is not the accurate representation of subject matter that makes for interesting art - or photography - it is the artists hand and heart being evident in the documentation that makes it art. It is like hearing a particular idea expressed in a myriad of languages and accents, each with a nuance and reaction particular to both the speaker and the listener. The same vocalization can mean "home" to one and "enemy" to another, to one is is romantic and soft, to another incomprehensible. For now, I just want to talk about the artist, not the viewer who may have his or her own criteria for enjoyment or interest. There are as many reasons for creating art as there are artists, but I have noticed some loose categories before, and they are really evident to me as I watch a oeuvre of work unfold from the various photographers in our group. Some, like me, are The Dilettante: rolling around in something new and different whenever they come across it. For me it is the new found media, and all the facets it offers in techniques, subjects and other possibilities that makes finding a particular voice probably premature. I am sure, sooner or later, one facet will shine more than others for me, but until then, I am happy to experiment. The Geek: Much like the painters who know the formulas for each of their colors, and the thread count and archival-ness of their canvases, and are concerned with the differences between a matter or gloss varnish, these photographers both understand and love the technical aspects of photography. They have tried every filter and filtering program. The lighting set up and the post work are as exciting to them as the subject and shoot are. They embrace every aspect of the science as well as the art of photography. The Serial Shooter: Like Degas drew and painted dancer after dancer, or haystack after haystack, each time exploring a different aspect of the subject or scene, these photographers embrace a subject with all their heart. Some do it for a month, some for a lifetime. It is so interesting to see both what they hone in on as a subject, and what within that subject they then focus on for the study. The Designer: These are the people for whom the composition and elements of design take forefront. They often have the more minimalist take or the most unique viewpoint. The subject matter is secondary to the impact of the design. The Journalist: For them the recording of an event is important. The event could be monumental or momentary, but noticing it and recording it is their joy. Whether it is the genre art of everyday living, or the fleeting moment of a rainbow or sunset, or a newsworthy event; it is captured by them. BUT no one is really just any of these, and truly great artists are all of these. The journalist who doesn't know how to compose or capture the lighting will not make a provoking photo. The designer with no intimate knowledge of his subject will often resort to trite. and so on it goes... but there is something that starts the creative juices to move, and that is usually remains high on the hierarchy of the finished art work's presence. I am just finding it fascinating - and always have - to see how the individual stacking of these priorities creates an amazing array of creative output.
It was fun to tramp around in the soggy (but only for an inch or so) ground, see so many out enjoying the "warmth" and finally see a few slices of evidence that even during the winter life continues under the snow. Enjoy a few more pictures of the area below: So when we : - Have a few less feet of ice on the pond - See a foot of snow soak back into the ground - Experience a little more consistency in the temperature - Complete the removal of 6 months of trash from the street gutters - Record the first robin sighting - Feel safe about removing the ice scraper from the car - Starting to wear boots for fashion not just function again - Use ice more on food than onsidewalks - And start complaining about how warm it is.... Then we will know spring is in Wisconsin. It snowed last night for the 147,568th time this winter. I had started grumbling, when I thought "why not just go with it?" I had run across my husband's snowshoes a while back (when looking for something interesting to photograph) But now actually thought about putting them on my feet. Yesterday I went on a long hike in the woods and fields by our house wearing my heavy winter boots. It wasn't so much a hike as a slog; One that could have easily turned into a leg-breaking incident. There was easily 18 inches of snow on the ground, hiding every downed branch, ankle-grabbing twig, and any uneven ground. Each step was a tentative footfall followed by either surprise or relief. Nonetheless, I found many wonderful photo opportunities and they are now in my daily pic for today. But decided I probably shouldn't push my luck again - I have never been mistaken for sure-footed. So I decided with an additional five to seven inches of new fluffy pristine snow, the hazards would be even more hidden, so why not try the snow shoes. Boy were they great! One doesn't exactly glide on the top of the snow with them, but they sure made for better footing than yesterday's boots! The poles were a big improvement also - the trees never seemed handy when I needed something to grab! So with my camera tucked safely in my jacket, I set out to explore the new snow.
Today I, and three of my buddies, went to the Milwaukee Art Museum. It is an amazing building and the building itself is the most amazing piece of art. The structure was designed by Santiago Calatrava and I applaud the City of Milwaukee for its decision to make this commitment to the arts. If you want to see a pictures of the space go to my pictures of the day for 03/01/2014. The exhibit we went to see was the Uncommon Folk: Traditions in American Folk Art. As you might remember from my blog post back on Jan. 17. 2014, I really love Folk Art. This exhibit was more than I could have imagined. It was curated perfectly; intimate groupings arranged by theme, and truly a cross-section of the sublime to the hilarious. The soul of each of the works was laid bare with the honesty with which it was made, and there were no bounds to the media or methodology!
After watching the Olympics for days now, I decided to go check out some of our home grown skiers and snowboarders. Tyrol Basin is right up the road from us, and so I drove up there to see what is going on. This hill has been around since I was a teenager, and it continues to provide great recreational opportunities for the winter. We don't have mountains here, so this hill has to do. It wasn't very busy, and the sun was so warm, it was gloriously relaxing sitting there watching people of every age out for a ski. There was a group of snowboarders that were really fun to watch. They had the swagger down, if they didn't have all the moves yet! The last picture shows three of them on the ramp at once... they were coming down in a line, and went down like dominoes, when the first one fell, and surprise the second when he came over the hill...then came the third. Didn't seem like a great idea to me. But I am old and know my bones are brittle!! I really went there to take my daily challenge photo - "S" + transport = where else could I go! Because of the lack of elevation, Tyrol tends to be populated by beginners and snowboarders. They seem to have a lot of bumps and slider (or whatever they are called) for the boarders, and there were multiple lessons for the beginners. Note the aforementioned triplets on the snowboard hill in the picture below.
It is snowing all day again today... again...at times almost white out conditions. There is a trail across from our house that is my walking trail for three seasons, but in the winter it becomes a highway for the snowmobiles, so I usually stay away. Today I decided to use them as my models! I wanted to check out the trail in this pristine snow, and I was pretty sure they would be showing up. The walk to the trail was daunting! I have a whole new respect for all those snow sports I have been watching from the comfort of my chair. The snow was powder and deep and took quite the slog to make it to the trail. The trail was a bit easier, and really beautiful. During the summer, I share the trail with bicyclists. They are a quiet crew and often take me by surprise as the come up from behind. The snowmobiles give lots of warrrrrrrrrrrrrrning and the buzz can be heard for quit a distance.
It has been a long cold winter here, and for the first time in my life, the white is getting to me; Maybe because I am older, maybe because I am noticing more as I photograph, maybe just because there really has been a lot of it. I am starting to understand that old tale about the native people of Alaska having fifteen words for the color white. Because, as I write this, I realize it isn't the white I am sick of, but the monotone. While the sky is blue and the snow sparkles, it is beautiful. The deep blue to violet shadows are what has moved pleine air painters throughout the years, but we have had day after day where the sky and the fields are virtually the same no-chroma hue. During mid day they match, at other times the sky is a bit darker, and then sometimes the ground is a bit darker than the sky. Only the orange traffic cones and yellow yield signs stand out. The tree silhouettes were once intriguing, but are getting just a bit "been there, done that" by now. Late yesterday afternoon I took a trip to the Post Office, then decided to cruise around and look for some photo ops in the area. As I was driving, I noticed a crack in the gray. a pinkish glow started appearing on the horizon, breaking the line between the sky and the ground. It was a subtle change, but one I welcomed with open arms and shutter. I took the shot and got back into my car and drove a short way up the road for a different perspective. As I stood there (avoiding the splash of snow and slush from passing cars and trying desperately to keep my fingers from freezing) the sky started to change. The heavens opened up...literally. I could almost hear the angels sing (or maybe it was just NPR on my car radio). There was blue and pink added to the gray, and pattern to the sky and texture came out with the shadows. And within moments it had changed to this: I have stood many times looking at the Monet haystacks in the Chicago Art institute, and marveled at this pioneer of impressionism and light. One of my favorite places on earth is the badlands - the vast minimalist landscapes there change with every cloud or hour that passes. Light changes everything. There is a white barn down the road from us. It is my haystack. I pass it daily, and never pass without checking out the lighting... here are four of my recent snaps of the "white Barn"
I have been thinking of all my customers (you?) a lot lately (for obvious reasons!) And I will miss the interaction I have had with each and everyone of them (you?). Without choosing a target demographics, I seemed to have found one, and oddly enough they were a lot like me! Women of a certain age (and that might be chronological, mental, or emotional!) who take on life with a grain of salt and a bit of humor and march to a slightly different drum beat. I am amazed at the number of teachers who wear my garments to class. Fellow artists and craftsmen liked them. (my jewelry and handbag collection grew at ever show, as I did trades!) Women who knew what comfort brings to our lives wear them, and people who just want to wrap them selves in a bit of warmth, color, or recycled fabrics, bought them. But what got me most was how nice they (you) all were! In this day and age of snark and vitriol in our entertainment and on-line, and our impersonal lives outside of our homes, it is easy to forget how really wonderful people are. I have been invited to homes, had generous offers for supplies, been graciously forgiven for slip-ups, been entrusted with making memories, and so much more from so many through the last six years. Yesterday I ran into a different tribe of these women. In my photo group, we have started challenging each other to take "people photos". So far, if I didn't know the subjects, I have done this with subterfuge and secrecy, but yesterday I went for straight forward honesty. I decided to go to the Sow's Ear. It is a fantastic refuge in a near by town. Mostly yarn shop, with the added benefits of coffee, bakery and lunch, it is always filled with people who are not in a hurry (those that are, take their coffee to go).
My husband jokingly (and endearingly) refers to "the Crones" - my own small local tribe of women who laugh and sip, occasionally travel, make things, hug a lot, and love each other, but also understands how much they all mean to me. He loved to watch me interact with my non-local "crones" at the shows. Usually he would be on a bench near by chuckling as he listened to us "ohh" and "ahh" and twirl and talk and become friends over recycled scraps of sweaters! I know I will miss you all... and I think he will too!
Yesterday we drove down to Chicago to attend a memorial service for a wonderful man. He was my cousin's husband and a gentle, intelligent and compassionate human. One of those good people who just go through life making a huge impact with little fanfare. May you rest in peace, Norm.
We are staying in a wonderful B+B on the way home. It is the 200 South Street Inn in Charlottesville. Wonderful room, wine and cheese in the evenings and a great breakfast in the morning... if you are ever in the area I highly recommend it!
Yesterday was the last show for jill2day and her roadie! It has been fun, and I can't begin to explain how much I have enjoyed meeting all of you and playing dress up in the booth. You have all taught me a lot and given my so much joy! I loved it when you stopped back year after year, to just say "hi" and wish me well. You know who you are, I know who you are. I have also met a wonderful community of artists and crafters. I never realized how many dedicated people there are out there; going from show to show and providing wonderful clothing, artwork, garden decor, jewelry, pottery, and so much more, as an alternative to WalMart, Target, or Macy's! Please support them whenever you can. They are a lovely group of folks and work very hard to provide you with both entertainment and wares. If the next time you need a bracelet, a skirt, or a new coffee mug, you can buy from an artisan rather than a retailer, that would be a good deed, indeed.
I am at a show this weekend, and a couple booths down is a booth filled with memories. Randy's Candies specializes in candies from years gone by. I don't know about you, but I so remember the sophistication of Candy Cigarettes and the stuck teeth and cracking apart the Turkish Taffy. Here were Smith Brothers cough drops, Beemans and Black Jack gums, Bubble Gum cigars, and just about every sweet memory you can think of. They also had glass bottled sodas like Nehi and Cheerwine. (I gave up Nehi Orange after an unfortunate incident after imbibing in birthday party involving chocolate cake and Orange Nehi!) They even had the Dots on Paper candy and Wax lips. However, while reminiscing at dinner discussion tonight, we realized that none of us actually knew what to do with wax lips - eat them or throw away? We also realized how intensely personal candy preferences are...what are yours? I asked Randy where the SenSens were, but evidently the demand for those do not equal Turkish Taffy or Candy Cigs! Evidently the legal rights to these old candies have lapsed, and small candy companies have taken to replicating them - I guess they have figured out how to take the Baby Boomer memories of penny and nickle candies and charge us $1-$1.50 per for them! More power to them!
I love the Metro stations in DC. My dream house is a Quonset hut, so maybe that has something to do with it. The stations are relatively new, and starkly industrial, but with lots of gentle curves that contradict the concrete. They are generally devoid of piped in music and surprisingly quiet until the train whooshes and squeals. There is that same strange time zone that you feel at airports; one that houses both quiet waiting and frantic speed. They are both crowded and lonely. They have views that are long, and high, and downward. There are vast spaces, but there are also small cubicle waiting areas that are intimate. Here are photos I took yesterday of some of the indoor (it was about 11F degrees , so no outdoor ones other than the one I started at on my journey!) platforms. Most of them have been merely sharpened and cropped... otherwise as shot with my trusty Fujifilm S8200. Tunnels, stairs, and curves; Waiting and rushing;
I am off visiting this week. I am staying with my older son, his wife and two kids. When I became a mother the first time, I was astounded at the primal feelings that came forth when that little guy was put into my arms. I still remember the surprise that I felt when the wave of visceral protective instinct rose the first time I felt a threat (big friendly dog!) approach my infant. That was only one of the many maternal surprises that followed. over the years . Then my boys grew up (but are still my babies!) and started lives of their own. Those maternal surprises still continue, but then came a whole new bunch of surprises as grand kids came along. Who knew?! I find it so much fun to have many of the same joys of being a part of a young life, with many fewer of the parental responsibilities of parenthood. I realize in retrospect how important the grandparents were in my sons' life, and even in my own. There is a special joy in being able to relax a bit more, while watching these kids grow, than I did while raising my own. There is a special relief when things get tough, being able to say "go see Mama/Papa". But almost more fun is watching my son be a parent! That, I have found, is just another maternal surprise to be enjoyed.
There is something exceptionally wonderful about art that is made for no purpose other than the urge to make it. Art that is free of theory or market. Art that is driven only by compulsion. To a great extent that is the very definition of art for many. Most artists would fear insanity if they were somehow not able to make art. I know I would be very twitchy! But somehow when one starts studying art, or showing our art, we become conscience of the audience and posterity and some purity is lost. However, saying that, I also must admit, that every painter should know color theory. Photographers should understand the numbers on their lenses, and potters need to know what will happen when the clay gets fired. To think that you can freely express yourself, while fighting with your media is daft. It is finding the middle ground, where expression is enhanced by knowledge and not inhibited by it, that is sometimes an issue. When I was in grad school (actually not that long ago, because I was a "non-traditional" -i.e. old- grad student), I learned a great lesson from one of my younger colleagues. We were in a print class critique, and I was presenting my work and droning on about color, and process, with a few gems regarding composition thrown into the presentation. Suddenly, he said "I am so !#@%! sick of hearing about all that, just make art!". Well as someone who at that time was teaching design and color, I was initially offended, but then thought about it. I had thought of his process as "monkey art" - you know, the old 'if you put 10,000 monkeys at a typewriter, sooner or later they will write Shakespeare' type of creation. I had seen him in the studio - music cranked, ink flying, paper grabbed, seemingly without intent. It was a Friday, so over the weekend I went to the studio, cranked up the music, let the ink fly and grabbed endless sheets of whatever paper was there... It was bliss. Complete indulgent, unabashed bliss. On Monday, I thanked him for reminding me about the art urge.
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