Studiology

Odd Plants in the Garden

In the 70's, when indoor plants were all the rage, I owned lots of odd plants. Now, full circle 2014, I own some of the same plants but have a camera. Or have a better camera and an appreciation for the intricacies of unusual plants. One new acquisition is the old plant called the Mother of Thousands. Small plantlets are formed along each leaf edge, growing from a little bowl that's formed by the leaf to hold the babies, literally the thousands of babies. Now, if you had asked me in 1976 how these new plants grew on the mother plant, I mean exactly how, I wouldn't have been able to explain it. Which brings me to the beauty of photography, especially macro photography.  Now I understand the formation of the small bowls at the edge of the leaves, and how the baby plants grow into miniatures of the mother plant prior to falling off.

 

The plant is technically called Bryophyllum daigremontianum, a native of Madagascar. Previously linked with kalanchoe with the species named for Monsieur and Madame Daigremont. A tropical plant, the thousands of perfectly formed replicas of mom won't be a threat as they will perish with cold temperatures. In the mean time, it's a perfect subject for abstract photography.

I have also planted cassia, specifically Cassia didymobotrya, more easily called the popcorn cassia. This one is a native of Africa where it grows into a small tree. The flower buds smell like buttered popcorn. Just another wonderful subject for photography with black bracts and bright yellow petals. 

The gardener needs his camera, or a sketch book and keen eye. 

 

Photography with a DSLR

If you're interested in photography and have a new digital SLR (single lens reflex) camera with interchangable lenses, there are 2 spots open in my next class at The Center for the Arts in Manassas, VA. It's a full day of important basic operations and creative applications. This is a beginners class where I cover the world of digital photography, issues that are specific to digital application. Attendants need to bring their camera, lenses and manual. The date is June 28th (Saturday), from 10 to 4.

 

Elevating the Marigold

Maybe not the most glamorous flower in the plant kingdom, they bloom too much, too long and never change - or so Henry Mitchell wrote in his book "One Man's Garden". So after years of neglect (on my part), I'm back to an old argument, if they weren't called marigolds but tagetes, we'd like them more. 

Yes, the lowly marigold can even base it's entire history on one misconception after another. The word marigold is actually a different plant, from the name Mary's Gold, it refers to Calendula officinalis or the pot marigold. Then come the French and African marigolds, all of which are actually Mexican or South American, early escapees, invading places and then claimed as their own. 

To be really fair they are tagetes, pronounced ta-gee-tees, and there are between 40 and 50 species. Two species, T. patula and T. erecta are used by breeders for our garden plants, one species T. tenuifolia is more popular in India, Thailand and the Ukraine, used for decoration, medicine and food. I can't help but wonder why only 3 species play a role in breeding when there are at least 37 others.

Many companies have banked on breeding marigolds with the Burpee Seed Company paying $10,000. to the breeder of the first white form. All from a challenge (1954), in part to draw attention to what a wonderful annual it is, but also to elevate their own breeding program. The winner, Mrs. Alice Vonk, a backyard gardener, won (1975) with a hybrid she named 'Snowball', which began an entirely new direction for marigold flower breeding.

Most species of marigolds are native to Mexico, the flowers are used every year to decorate cemetery plots on All Souls Day or Day of the Dead. Cemeteries have become fertile ground for wild marigolds after centuries of piling up their flowers. Locally known as Flor de Muerto or flower of the dead, it's a bright color for a day of celebration, a day to remember those that have passed in a happy way. It could have been the dahlia, or tithonia, both natives of Mexico.

For a time there was an American Marigold Society, no record ever of an American Tagetes Society. Perhaps it's time to elevate the lovely little yellow, orange or white flower that blooms all summer. Set the record straight, it should have been tagetes from the start, ban the word marigold.  

 

New Art Work

I've been escaping to the studio to work on multiple projects, a few of which I finished and delivered to Art A La Carte today. Another sketch book and cover are done, this one took me much longer to complete, it seemed to have it's own set of problems. What I had in mind to start with was not how it ended, but I'm very happy with the finished product, despite my weeks and weeks of deliberation. The title is "Flight".

I added a sketch inside the front cover, glued under mica, my own sketch of the front piece as I imagined it.

There are also some new altered Pez dispensers. A big thank-you to Michael DeMeng for his class on the topic. One of the new dispensers is named "Lars", he's Swedish.

He's joined the others in a little multi-cultural Pez dispensers display. Well, a few may not actually be from this culture or this planet. 

 

Open Your Windows

Japanese honeysuckle and multiflora rose are flowering, filling the air with their potent fragrance. Precursors to summer, for a few weeks we love them, the rest of the year, not so much. Since this time is so fleeting, consider a drive to the country with the windows rolled down, especially before or after a rain, when high humidity enhances the fragrance, lifting the spirits, delivering nostalgic memories of childhood play. 

The multiflora rose has long arching stems with clusters of white flowers. Small red hips are formed in fall, most evident after leaves drop. A native of Asia, the multiflora rose was brought into the country from Japan in 1880, used as graft stock for ornamental roses and planted to control erosion. An invasive climber, it can take down small trees, smother lower plants, creating an impenetrable, thorny barrier. The small rose hips that turn red in winter are a favorite of many bird species, which is one way it spreads. The climbing canes also root as they touch soil, romping at will. 

Japanese honeysuckle or Lonicera japonica prefers sunny areas but has invaded much of the countryside, thriving even in shaded forest thickets. This vine develops a thick trunk, spiraling as it grows, working with gravity to pull down trees and large shrubs in the hopes that it will create a new sunny patch to grow in. A native of Eastern Asia, Japanese honeysuckle was introduced to cultivaton in 1862 on Long Island, NY and is widely naturalized in the Eastern and Central United States. Despite its invasiveness, it's still sold in nurseries, the fragrance being the sole reason most people buy it. There are native species of honeysuckle, still vines and still aggressive yet lacking the fragrance.

Like the multiflora rose, the seeds are also distributed by birds and the vine will root where ever it touches soil. I find it much more difficult to eradicate, the stems tend to snap as you tug at them and growth is rapid, what appears to be inches a day.

I'm currently on the love side of my "love-hate" relationship with these two. It will pass soon, but in the mean time, roll down your windows, enjoy the only good trait they have.