let there be light

There can be no doubt that what gives this time of the year its power
is the return of the sun after midwinter (December 22nd for 2011.)

though I am
a modern man,
I wonder :

What is it like to feel --
physically and in every sense
and orifice --
the exact moment the sun has ceased
its fall deeper and deeper
each day (since the equinox
in September),
its effortless
leaving of us
with less and less of its light --
more precious to me than bread or water,
though I love bread and am 67% water...

and to awake from this day forward
crowned again
with all our heliotropic philosophies and creeds
by our soul's alma mater?

moss dollop

it was a heady feeling to know that
she could tell him anything
and he would believe it.

just then she leaned across the table
and said,
"Dollop is the French word 
for virgin's nipple."

he laughed, took it in, accepted.

about a year later there was a commercial on tv about how delicious a dollop of sour cream could be on a baked potato -- he blushed. when they saw it together, she laughed and he realized that she had made it all up. for him.

last forsythia

I realize that by virtue of this image, I am now a self-confessed "rank sentimentalist" (but am in good company as such.) I cannot and will not resist the madness of forsythia blooming here in NWNJ in November.

And, offer this, a mere month from Solstice, to tease and dazzle you and me all winter long with the anticipation of the unhinged insanity to be displayed come Spring.

Happy Thanksgiving, my fellows!


ps : I really dislike the pruning of forsythia into any formal artificial shape. Please, if you must cut it back, do it in as random a manner as possible, make it bushier, create more opportunities for blossoms, but don't reign in its essential wild-ness.

green eggs... so lovely!

 Recently we had an Open Studio Day here at zhine-studio -- basically meant as a excuse to create together; all ages, all interests, all manner of expression. There is nothing like the energy of many creatives working in close proximity to one another, says I, cheek-to-cheek, elbow-to-elbow, reaching for the same tube of paint or shiny object.

Maybe you've felt this at a potluck? Or years ago during the heady afternoons set aside for art while in grammar school? Perhaps in the spontaneity of an impromptu jam session? Among the roar in Yankee Stadium? We are social creatures after all, so be sure not to neglect your need to connect with others...

To supplement our Open Studio activities, we shared food. My dear friends brought fresh eggs collected that morning from their chickens. The taste of FRESH EGGS is a significant improvement over store bought. And the color of the yolk! Vivid, vivid yellow!

I was taken in also by the green shells; a mossy green outside and, when first cracked, for brief time the inside is aqua.

As my friend J. tells me:
"Araucanas (chickens) lay green eggs... so lovely!"

tree limb with lichen

This is what I love about scanners -- they open for anything and anybody.

I've eyed this limb for a few weeks now. It fell, barely missing my car, next to my studio shed. The contrasts and textures are irresistible. Just had to see if I could get a scan of it. So, I dragged it (about 4.5 ft long, 15 in. around and maybe 10 lbs.) into my workroom, cradled it within an inch of the scanner's glass, held my breath and hit SCAN.

Perhaps this is my answer to the dwindling supply of SX-70 polaroid film?

Along those lines, you may want to check out what folks are doing with phone cameras -- Photo Technique article March/April 2010 by Dan Burkholder http://www.phototechmag.com/index.php/past-issues/marchapril-2010; also www.iphoneartistry.com/

Go to your studio!

pencil nub

Gail Godwin writes --

"The artist Philip Guston told me this once when he was having a bad patch:

'I go to my studio every day, because one day I may go and the angel will be there. What if I don't go and the angel came?'

What if, indeed. I was in my studio this very morning and it was filled with wonder.

feather signs

once upon a time, I read in a Tom Brown, Jr. book (perhaps it was The Tracker, or, The Journey, maybe Grandfather...) about his search after Grandfather who had taken off into the deep southwest dessert for that last walk. Tom was many, probably too many days behind Grandfather to reach his elder in time.

At one point Tom came across some feathers that he instinctively knew had been placed on the trail by Grandfather himself. These he understood to be a sign that all was well and that each of them was on the right path.

Now when I take my walks and find feathers such as these, I recognize them as signs from Grandfather that I'm on the right path and that all is well.

For further inspiration I strongly recommend reading any and all of Tom Brown Jr.'s works, or, go to his website http://www.trackerschool.com/

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First

This is ArtMatters -- a blog meant to provide inspiration, primarily visual, though there will be times when non-visual pieces will be featured. Most posts will be scanned found objects of a certain quality that seem to demand attention. Perhaps, from this small moment of focus, we will open to a new path...

New posts can be expected the first and third weeks of the month, all things being equal.

Please feel FREE to use these items wherever and however you desire -- though your restraint in claiming origin or ownership of them yourself is always assumed.