week 21 in my “this is where i am from” year long project:
Pine trees have always felt like melancholy things to me, one that felt particularly so was a down on its luck pine that stood (and maybe still stands) at the top of the hill that led down to the near swamp. A big shabby affair that whispered and creaked and moaned as if it needed to tell you how tired it was.
week 20 in my “this is where i am from” year long project:
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week 19 in my “this is where i am from” year long project:
Fiddleheads, Ferns, Jack In The Pulpit and Salamanders – forest wonders.
I’m definitely in a botanical place this week.
week 18 in my “this is where i am from” year long project:
A look at my progress wall – the things I don’t completely despise:
And a little painting inspired by this email from my much older sister :
” Remember just outside the fence at the corner by the little dump there was a very fragrant (in the spring ) apple tree. It was a good place to sit on the fence and Ginger ate the wormy apples in the fall”
week 17 in my “this is where i am from” year long project:
click the image for a larger view
I meant to show you something else this week, I’ve been working on a little painting of Ginger and the wormy apple tree, but on Monday night I dreamed of another place – the brook. The dream left me with such a particular sensation I wanted to try to express it. The brook had a distinctive feature, what seemed to be a magic ability that I’d like to show you another time but Monday’s dream was of a grey and stormy day and the water surging and tumbling and swirling through the tunnel under our street and rising terrifyingly up the steep grassy banks.
week 16 in my “this is where i am from” year long project:
Progress on my painting of the far swamp. I so wanted to post it finished today but it’s not going to happen – I’ve got to pack and ship and sew. I’ll update this post later this week when I finish – here’s a couple for now – newest to oldest.
update : finished
week 15 in my “this is where i am from” year long project:
Over the stone wall, across the road, past the tiger lilies and into the far swamp.
This is a pencil sketch for a painting.
week 14 in my “this is where i am from” year long project:
I remember Mr. Hennessy in sunny glimpses, tending his little rhubarb patch in the forest. The idea of a garden in the forest was intriguing and mysterious to me. Sometimes Hennessy would cut some rhubarb stalks for the little people peeking through the trees at him and you could run to Mrs. W for a dixie cup of sugar to dip it in. Little kindnesses to children last a very long time.
PS – a note on the painting – I started over- scrapped last week’s progress. I am mrs. do-over. I still didn’t really get where I wanted to go. I did get somewhere though. Onward.
week 13 in my “this is where i am from” year long project:
Work on a painting of Mr. Hennessy tending his rhubarb patch in the forest.
(click the image for a larger view)
week 12 in my “this is where i am from” year long project:
(click the image for a larger view)
Growing up in a small town in the 70’s afforded even a very small person considerable geographic independence. It was a reckless time when children rode bikes without helmets, were unrestrained in cars and open truck beds, cigarette smoke was everywhere and loosely supervised by an older sibling or absorbed into the roaming neighborhood pack – one could be out of sight and earshot of adults for considerable stretches of time and at considerable distance without causing concern. Hennessey’s grove was a favorite place to play, past the house next door and headed up the hill, the forest got thick and deep. A wide path opened and if you followed it you came to the grove – a shady, pine needle covered clearing concealed from the street, industrial size, limb crushing, wire spools everywhere. They were intended as picnic tables for grown up gatherings but irresistible as playthings, fun to roll and ride and climb on and it’s a miracle we all emerged with fingers, arms and legs in tact.
For next Wednesday’s post I’m going to follow one of the little paths on the far side of the grove: one trail led down a steep hill and further into the forest through purple trillium (skunk flower) and wild rhododendron to a weird little pond and the other led to Mr. Hennessey’s rhubarb patch.