Art Resolutions is a self-imposed initiative to create an art study every day (well intended, but delusional) for a year.
A nice thing about aging is that you sometimes stop yourself from inflicting more pain than life doles out naturally. Though it’s been almost a month since I last posted (and another month since I had posted before that one), I have excused myself from the judgement of stepping off the resolute path I set in January. I have chosen to see my creative studies in another handmade necklace, some functional lawn art (old iron deck chairs painted and treated as sculpture), imaginative plantings and pruning fit befitting a bonsai master. Then more applied vision and creativity in several long reports and strategic plans for work. So, you see, I am behind in posting–but not in creating or building the visual reserves for a moment when I have the time and energy to translate the inspiration to art.
Today I raced against time to get soaker hoses and the gardens prepared. Tomorrow, I am conference bound. Moments when there is no time are moments when I shine. Today, I had a sterling plan, logical map of all the chore stops I needed to make and got home by three. This after taking time to ponder the beautiful morning in my jammies and figure out how far I could stretch my existing soaker hoses.
Yes, enough time left in the day to contemplate the spectacular catalpa tree that separates me from the neighbor to my south. Yesterday, when I went out on the deck to soak the garden pots, a beautiful sweet scent turned my head to the tree. The catalpa was covered with small white flowers veined with the slightest of burgundy. Up close, the blossoms looked like tiny orchids. I took some pictures. Against the lush and varied greens, it was a view to behold.
After setting up the soaker hoses and sprinklers, adjusting the hose timer, and drowning the upstairs window box, I had enough juice left to be inspired. I don’t like over-romanticized watercolors or firmly representational depictions, so layer upon layer of green trees and white blossoms creates a challenge. This is the beginning of an exploration for a new way to visually portray the tree without being trite. I like that this is partially abstracted, but there is something coming and it is not coming tonight.