A little of this; a little of that. I've been in the studio moving slowly, changed the furnace filter, vacuumed and dusted, have been busy with the neti pot (yes, I think it does help) and twirling around like a dervish who is alternately grouchy, hopeful, determined and weepy. Crazy life.
John's tomatoes are sending out blossoms; can summer be far behind? Everything is growing wonderfully. It reminds us how tenacious life is and how is comes back again and again. The good news. It makes you want to hug your mother and thank her for the bounty she brings.
The tomatillos are simply ridiculous in their leggy beauty. Show offs!
The hungry deer have hit the roses hard as they do every spring. This once bushy rose bush has been trimmed away by the dainty munchers and I don't really get upset when I think about what a delicacy it must be to a hungry deer. Just so they leave enough for me too.
I discovered this beautiful tableau beside the deck. Maybe the bluejay hit the window or maybe it was a gift from a passing feline but what a tender reminder that even death has an austere beauty. Not from the human standpoint of loss but from an abstract position of pure observation.
My Disintegration project has barely changed and yet in a short time this arrangement of nature has returned to the earth in heart moving beauty. It belongs.
I saved the skull which was cleaned thoroughly by nature and will check the rest of the bones later. The beak is black. Incredibly holy and awe-inspiring.
For tonight's IEA meeting we are each to bring a small encaustic with a dessert theme. I'll show you the work of the others in a later post but here are the pieces I made to take.
Detail.
And this one. I'll bring the Encaustic Meeting news to you next. Ciao.
A little of this; a little of that. I've been in the studio moving slowly, changed the furnace filter, vacuumed and dusted, have been busy with the neti pot (yes, I think it does help) and twirling around like a dervish who is alternately grouchy, hopeful, determined and weepy. Crazy life.
John's tomatoes are sending out blossoms; can summer be far behind? Everything is growing wonderfully. It reminds us how tenacious life is and how is comes back again and again. The good news. It makes you want to hug your mother and thank her for the bounty she brings.
The tomatillos are simply ridiculous in their leggy beauty. Show offs!
The hungry deer have hit the roses hard as they do every spring. This once bushy rose bush has been trimmed away by the dainty munchers and I don't really get upset when I think about what a delicacy it must be to a hungry deer. Just so they leave enough for me too.
I discovered this beautiful tableau beside the deck. Maybe the bluejay hit the window or maybe it was a gift from a passing feline but what a tender reminder that even death has an austere beauty. Not from the human standpoint of loss but from an abstract position of pure observation.
My Disintegration project has barely changed and yet in a short time this arrangement of nature has returned to the earth in heart moving beauty. It belongs.
I saved the skull which was cleaned thoroughly by nature and will check the rest of the bones later. The beak is black. Incredibly holy and awe-inspiring.
For tonight's IEA meeting we are each to bring a small encaustic with a dessert theme. I'll show you the work of the others in a later post but here are the pieces I made to take.
Detail.
And this one. I'll bring the Encaustic Meeting news to you next. Ciao.
What a juxtaposition -- the savage beauty of the dead jay set off against the pure froth of the food encaustic collage. But isn't life full of odd, poignant pairings?
ReplyDeleteI guess we are only mimicking what nature does standing in her head.. Lovely skull, such treasure...
ReplyDeleteMaybe you've described my springtime condition perfectly - alternately grouchy, hopeful, weeping, etc. Perhaps I'm not the only one going through a bout of emotional craziness (and never was). Discovering the bird in the midst of rebirth outside - what a find! Yes, reminds us of life's fragility. Thank you for your images. I don't fancy a piece of that cake for my mouth; only my eyes! - Jeanne
ReplyDeleteI love the "2 scoops" piece you created :)
ReplyDeleteyou are
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xoxoxox,
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Judy, what a treasure this post is, from that little fellow's bones to the tomatoes to the lovely encaustic artwork.
ReplyDeleteAnd "my" deer eat my hosta every year. I mean every. year. The corn I leave out just isn't enough, I guess...
Take care!
Candace
Thanks for your post about life cycles. Your cake looks so yummmy!
ReplyDeleteWow! I love the first piece so much and I am here in my studio doing the samething you are doing-dusting, vacuming, whirling around, tyring to get organized but failing, crying, being ok, then realizing that the studio looks exactly the same and then saying "whatever" and doing paintings and monotypes with cat hair in them-yes, I charge extra for the cat hair!
ReplyDeleteLove your tomato plants-their smell is one of my strongest memories from living on a farm during my childhood-love it.
And, wow again, that last images are just amazing, gorgeous, sacred. My parents still live in the country and the earth is always giving them skeletons and feathers. My mom saves them for me(ok we sometimes have a little fight over who gets what). I have a great friend who is steel work artist who made me this great vertical coffin shaped box with a glass window in the top that opens with a fabulous creak. Inside I keep my tiniest bones and a nice litte cobweb is growing in there too. Nautre's gifts are so beautiful.
take care,
merle
oh miss judy....you must know just how much i envy your find....this is your karmic return on the santos from pt townesend.
ReplyDeletebeautifull post
be with you soon!
xoxoxoxo