curry powder

From the Greenhouse #1

Greenhouse watering can (colored pencil & graphite)

We've lived in our home for 40 years, but it is only now, during this mellow summer of 2019 that I find myself taking up a studio spot in our greenhouse, feeling reflective as I listen to the birds in the quiet hours of early summer mornings. Rick gave me a tablet for my birthday, and a friend gave me the idea to buy a little bluetooth keyboard for it. No longer having a laptop, I now have this nifty set-up on the circular glass table, my morning desk. Hence, as a seasonal writing project, From the Greenhouse begins with this post.

Two weeks ago I was here at the table writing to a friend when I lapsed into a reflection about my personal history as a transatlantic traveler. Recently, I have surprised some long-known friends when I've off-handedly told them bits about my early life. I assumed that my friends knew my basic life story. Here is what I wrote that day, inspired by the sounds of the morning, with a few pertinent facts and photos added for this first post:

 

The SS America built in 1939 and depicted here in NYC harbor.

Good morning, K~

I am sitting in the greenhouse now, birds chirping outside but a jet is roaring overhead, too. There's a new flight path that takes more planes over our area. This is not great news for the neighborhood, but when I was a child living near SeaTac, planes overhead were common. So, in a way, the noise is not objectionable to me because it's one of those subliminal comforts now emerging, buried since childhood. When I think of how few flights there would actually have been back then in the 50's compared to now, I marvel.

 

Here is my entire family on board the SS America in 1955. I am seated & deep in thought next to Mom. I recall feeling so grown up; I learned to play cards and shuffleboard. And more thrilling to me yet, once familiar with the way to our staterooms, I was allowed to walk about the ship by myself. Independence was encouraged from early on.

When we first went to Europe I was 5 years old. We sailed from NYC to Southhampton, England on the SS America. The year was 1955, and Dad had taken a sabbatical leave. Nine months later, we sailed back to the U.S. and I remember seeing the Statue of Liberty from our ship. In 1961, we flew back to Europe from Seattle after Dad was hired by the Defense Dept. That time we made the voyage on a propellor plane. That was a looooong flight that groaned all the way across the Atlantic. Later, in the early 60's, the flights back and forth to visit family were via "turbo-props"--a little faster. Finally, in the mid 60's, the planes were sleek jets with designed interiors. What a treat to arrive in England or Germany or NYC without feeling vibrated to the bone and achingly sleep deprived.

 

When I started this letter to my friend I had no thought of relating this transatlantic travel synopsis to her. In fact, I'd never paused to look back at my own early traveling years as indicative of the rapid changes that swept global travel in the 50's and 60's. "The Greenhouse Affect" has taken on a new meaning for me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Doodling: It Comes Naturally!

In spite of all appearances (here, anyway) the intrepid Drawing Group has continued to meet when the three of us are all able to set aside the same Tuesday mornings. Through all of life's events, whether planned or unplanned in our three lives, we prioritize where necessary so that we can convene. For so many nurturing, affirming reasons, we are approaching year 10 of our friendly practice.

Some months ago (!) I proposed that we doodle. For two of this, there was family history re: doodling. Our moms doodled regularly while talking on the phone back in the 1950's. For me, this is a distinct memory. It takes no effort to call up the image of Mom holding in one hand the ebony black receiver of our weighty rotary dial phone with its spiral cord, and in the other hand a ball point pen. Her eyes down, her pen creating geometric mazes in the corner of any available paper, she would listen and occasionally utter an uhm hmm, her pen moving to a clear space on the paper when necessary.

While sipping our fresh coffee and visiting about our moms and other topics, we three made these doodle borders. Mine is the one with the tribute mazes, and just one of us actually got to some color work!

A First: an animated map

I took the plunge yesterday and started learning to do animation--applied to a map. Why? My daughter and her business partner are offering a musicians' showcase concert in Manhattan on January 7. This is for the benefit of attendees of the international APAP conference who are looking for talented bands and groups to hire. Here's my map, destined to be edited but still fun to view at this stage:

Sketching at the Shore: Edmonds Windsock

The Drawing Group always looks forward to the warming days of summer when we meet up on a driftwood log or picnic table near the beach in Edmonds, WA. This year we perched along the walkway by the marina there, our thermoses and treats spread out within reach as we sketched what was before us. Here's what we did as we sat side-by-side, happy to be outside with pens, paint, and our individual news to share:

 

 

Three views: we all enjoy the journaling method of creating small squares for our quick sketches. It's great practice for capturing a lot of information about one's immediate surroundings.

 

My sketch. I think I was chatting a lot and, well, didn't quite get the work done that my chums did.

 

The foreground, middle ground, and background in this drawing show the whole scene with good success.

Ink Spills Become Faces

During the past couple of weeks I have been doing a lot of experimenting with different pens and writing fluids. FYI, this is part of a big map project I'm working on. Jet black India ink tends to get everywhere when one is dipping into little containers of it...some of you are very familiar with this messy phenomenon, I'm sure. Well, yesterday, when I was not working with ink but with harmless pencil, I looked beyond my drawing and saw three random ink blobs (dried and until then unnoticed) left from a previous, inky session. For the sheer fun of it I picked up a regular, commercial ink pen and quickly made faces that incorporated the blobs. I'm liking these three new friends!

Summer Sketches: Little Floral Portraits

Many of my sketching time-outs are taken with my little drawing group. These are always held to two hours, and always include baked goods and coffee, as regular readers may know. Every fourth gettogether is an outing, either spent in a café or on a trail or at the beach. Last time we went out, we stopped first at The Red Twig, followed by a floral sketching session at Old Mill Town in Edmonds, WA. Perfect! Here are our sketches:

Yellow rose

 

Mixed sprigs. This sketch is mine.

Geraniums

Art Tools in a Mug: Drawing Group Exercise

A handful of brushes and some miscellaneous calligraphic writing tools stuck in a mug provided the perfect subject for a drawing group sketch. In this case, the three of us sat around my dining room table, our drawings revealing our varying perspectives depending on where we sat. The forms and textures provided just enough challenge to make this a fun exercise.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peppers Three: Drawing Group + 1

In spite of the holiday to-do lists we all entertained at the time, the drawing group came together in my sunny dining room for drawing practice just a few days before Christmas. And, who should be on hand to join us but my beautiful, New York City-dwelling daughter Emily who flew west to be with the family and friends for a week. She was happy to be invited to draw three peppers with our left hands. Why do this? A focus on "drawing what we see, not what we think we see" is well served by drawing with the non-dominant hand. Further, a degree of detachment exists so that adults, especially, become less critical of their drawing skills when drawing with the left hand. 

The peppers and the paintings.

 

Emily paints the peppers with her right hand after drawing them with her left.

Raggedy Ann Restored

A very few toys from my childhood have survived the 6+ decades of my life. One of these is the Raggedy Ann made for me and my sister by our loving and skilled seamstress mother in the early 1950's. Yes, there was also a Raggedy Andy but none of us know what happened to him. I always loved peeking under Raggedy Ann's dress to see the heart embroidered with "I Love You." What child doesn't need to be reminded of this, often?

About 18 months ago Rick and I were helping my mother prepare to move out of her house when I came across our old Raggedy Ann. She was completely bald, her rusty orange hair having been shorn by moths, I assumed. Her soft blue button eyes were as wistful as ever, but her original bloomers, calico frock and crisp white apron were no longer on her faded pink body. Replacing them were a different dress and a wilted apron. Right then and there I decided to restore her. Before I did, I took this photo of her:

 

Smiling, even in her naked state, Raggedy Ann rests against Mom's antique French clock in Berkeley, CA, July, 2016. I took her down there with me from Seattle so I could cut out new clothes for her while keeping Mom company in her new apartment at my sister's house.

Raggedy Ann went on another trip in August of this year. Here is Ann in her new outfit which I completed while vacationing in Seaside, OR.

 

Today, September 28, I completed Raggedy Ann's new acrylic yarn hair while waiting for my car to be serviced. I plunked her down on the desk and got the impression that she rather liked her updated appearance! She's been the ideal portable handwork project.

 

One Garden, Three Views

On Tuesday morning, our little drawing group settled in the garden of one of our members. It's spectacular there what with the many verdant areas featuring a wide variety of plants, trees, water features and clipped lawn paths. We picked our chosen spots in this wonderland, and met up 40 or so minutes later to compare sketches. I love how different the three are! They represent such different aspects of this beautiful place. Please take a look:

Here is "the bird bowl" which attracted a flurry of visiting black-capped chickadees as I sketched. One reason I am happy with my drawing (pen, ink and watercolor) is that by some small miracle the water actually looks like water!

 

Two infant apples emerge from the fresh foliage. This member's goal: to keep it loose.

 

A newly transplanted Golden Cypress, seen left of center, makes an architectural statement in this landscape sketch. To capture so many forms and textures in 40 short minutes is an admirable achievement! Color will be added.