Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts

Sunday, June 8, 2014

Fragments of Memory


New work:


Fragments of Memory
ingredients: vintage book cover, various vintage ephemera (book page, post cards, notebook scrap, envelope, dress pattern), vintage textiles, image transfers, colored pencil drawings, pressed flowers, glass, stitching




Fragments

My eyes are not a camera
my ears cannot hold
the sounds
they slide by
like flashes of light
through the window of a speeding car

Between one fragment
and the next
the spaces are
half filled in with
imagination

and the other half - ?




Don't ask me where the poem came from. The other half, maybe?



Sunday, November 24, 2013

Things I Forgot


If this title seems a bit scary to you, just imagine how I feel.  If I actually included everything I forgot, this post would go on forever... Luckily, though, I don't remember most of it - ha!  Every year since I started blogging, I have always shared photos of my flower gardens, which have been a source of much pleasure, work, and therapy for me.


The front corner flower bed with antique seeder, orange honeysuckle vine, echinacea, Turk's cap lilies, Russian sage, black-eyed Susans, and liriope.




I tried a little photoshop-ery with some of these, just for fun. 


I really like the negative space in the two compositions above.







The shady flower bed by the side porch, with hostas, impatiens, ferns, and more echinacea (of course).




Two hosta flower close-ups, complete with bee in the second one.


Nicotainia in the front flower bed.  I like the weird 'floaty' quality in this photo.



This teeny-tiny moth was smaller than a dime; I probably wouldn't have noticed him without the telephoto lens. 



And while I'm playing catch-up, I just realized that I completely forgot to share any photos from my vacation this summer. So here is a quick look at my trip to Cumberland Falls, Big South Fork (of the Cumberland River) and the wildly beautiful Rockcastle River, all of them in Kentucky.

CUMBERLAND FALLS


 Cumberland Falls, complete with mist.


 
 We took a lovely hike down the Cumberland River below the falls,

 
  surrounded by high rock walls..

 
  ... the rushing river...


 
 ... rhododendron forests and trickling rivulets...


 
 ... that carve out huge rock shelters, given a few million years or so.



BIG SOUTH FORK

 The Big South Fork was muddy and swollen from recent storms...
 
 
 ... and looked like a river of cafe au lait...

   This the coal tipple at Blue Heron Mine, a now defunct mine which has been restored as a historical site.

 
 The bridge from the tipple to the other side of the river.


ROCKCASTLE RIVER

 
 The Rockcastle River is certainly deserving of its name...

 
 ... lots of rocks, for sure, but also sparkling, crystal-clear water...



 ... little sandy beaches...


 

... and some of the most gorgeous views ever, even in the rain.



Wishing you all a great weekend and a wonderful Thanksgiving next week!  Don't forget to enter my give-away; just leave a comment on my last post.  One of my dogs will choose 2 winners on Thanksgiving Day.


Friday, October 11, 2013

Story of My Life Story


There were times when I wondered if I'd ever finish this one.  It went well at the beginning, but as it progressed I kept getting stuck, so I would put it aside and work on something else for a while. When I did complete it, I had trouble getting good photos of the piece; I had to re-photograph it 3 times!  But here it is:


Story of My Life Story
ingredients: vintage book cover, vintage paper doll, found objects, image transfers, monotype prints, vintage fabric, map fragments, vintage book pages, child's writing paper, jewelry findings, stitching


Most stories, if you really think about it, are stories of stories. If the story is a recounting of the events, then each time the story is retold, even in our own minds, it becomes the story of a story.  By the time a person is, say, in their 50's, those earlier events are stories that we have told ourselves over and over again - altered by the passage of time, emotion, and tricks of the memory.  Changes in our perspective through learning, as well as intervening experiences, add new layers of color to our stories, probably more than we like to admit.





Life does not consist mainly, or even largely, of facts and happenings.  It consists mainly of the storm of thoughts that are forever blowing through one's mind. ~ Mark Twain




Monday, August 5, 2013

A Long Goodbye

My yard was once an ash grove, full of majestic, mature trees that graced us with their beauty and cool shade.


The largest one, a huge old tree next to the deck in the back yard, was my favorite.





Because of it, the deck was shaded almost the entire day. I used to work out here for hours on end, making sculptures from grapevines and copper.
 


For the dogs, it made a lovely, cool place to rest up after a strenuous game of  "keep-away-fetch"...



 and for the birds, a perfect spot for their favorite cafe.


But last summer, we noticed the ash trees were not doing well, and this spring they looked even worse. The tree dude (I think the proper term is arborist?) confirmed my worst fears: it was emerald ash borer, and the trees were already beyond help. In case you're not familiar with this problem, here's a short explanation from Wikipedia: "Agrilus planipennis, is a green beetle native to Asia and Eastern Russia. Outside its native region, the emerald ash borer is an invasive species, and Emerald ash borer infestation is highly destructive to ash trees in its introduced range... larvas' bore holes essentially disrupt the flow of nutrients as they rise up the trunk from the roots to the crown via the phloem (the tree's vascular structures) just under the bark. This eventually results in the death of the tree. This can take place over a number of years, and the first noticeable sign is usually some die back in the crown of the tree. The tree will usually be dead by the following year or soon after. In areas where the insect is invasive and has no natural predators, it can and usually does have a devastating effect on the local ash tree population." My trees would have to be cut down, and for the ones near the house, the sooner the better.

I was very upset.  In fact, the lush forest-like yard was one of the primary factors in my decision to buy the house 25 years ago, and I had come to regard the trees as dear friends. People just didn't seem to get it, though. One person suggested that I should, "grow up and get over it", but it's taking longer than I thought it would. I'm working on it.


When I was working on my BFA, we had to keep sketchbooks for virtually every class. Here's a sketch I drew of my favorite tree- well, part of it- the whole drawing wouldn't fit on the scanner.

After I'd finished sketching it, my daughter, who was then about 5, pointed at the tree and said, "Mommy, you forgot something."  I hadn't included the swing in my drawing, and it was very important to her. When my children were too small to get on by themselves, I used to sit on the swing with one of them facing me on my lap, put my arm around them, and swing them as high as I dared. So I added the swing, to please my daughter, and because it reminded me of the happiness I'd felt then.



We had the 3 ash trees nearest the house cut down, and sadly, this is that tree in its current condition. The trunk is 40 inches in diameter- too big to fit through the portable saw mill we hired to cut the trunks into boards.


The yard is almost totally cleaned up now; a couple of weeks ago, the whole thing looked like this.



The saw mill was pretty amazing, though. Here, he's adjusting the log to make sure it's in the proper position.




Here, the blade is just clearing the end of the log.




And here's what our garage looks like right now.


I am learning to say goodbye; it's just going to take some time...



Tuesday, August 23, 2011

The Whole Shebang

As promised, here is the finished version of my altered book cover.























As you can see, I've added a lot to the left side since I posted it here.  The biggest change is the little girl; she is part image transfer, part drawing, and the flower "dresses" are image transfers of botanical illustrations from a textbook dated 1899.  I've also attached a piece of mica, using eyelets and brads.


A word of warning: attempting to set eyelets in mica is not really a great idea, in case you're wondering.


Here are a few details of the piece:


When I was a child, I drew constantly, from a very early age, and loved to make things out of paper.  My grandmother showed me an amazing trick.  She would fold up a sheet of paper like a fan, make a few snips with the scissors, and when she unfolded it, there magically appeared a string of paper dolls, all holding hands.  She told me that when she was a little girl, her family was very poor, and they had no toys at all unless they made them.


I had plenty of toys, including all kinds of dolls, but I found it more fun to make my own. My other favorite pastime was to run around in the woods like a wild animal, exploring every nook and cranny.  Between my yard and the woods was our next door neighbor's yard, and it was here that I got some of my doll-making materials.  I would find just the right stick for the body, and use either one of my neighbor's unripe grapes or apples for the head.


Usually, they wore petunias as dresses, and snapdragons as hats.  Wouldn't you, if you could?



I liked to know the secrets of the earth, and how things grew.  My grandmother taught me these things, and she also taught me to sew.  All these images are woven together in my mind, a tangled collection of dreams and memories.  If you peel back the layers of years, that world still exists, inside me.

We all have these layers of memory.  How many of them are real, or have mixed with dreams and stories and other memories, slowly changing as that moment becomes faint and cloudy, as if behind an old, dusty pane of glass?  And does that even matter, when what's inside our minds and hearts makes us who we are, whether or not it's strictly "accurate"?  These are some things I've been thinking about.


Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Rocky Mountain Memories

Some of you may recall that I took a trip to Glacier National Park last summer.  Since I came back, I think about the mountains literally every day.  I had a medical procedure done this morning, and am still pretty loopy, so I thought it might be best to just post some images from my trip.  Enjoy!


















I love looking at these; what great memories!  I might do this every once in a while- I took over 500 pictures!