Studiology

2020 in review

Soon behind us, this final day of 2020 can't come fast enough, but it was a year in our lives and I hope it has left you healthy and happy. I enjoyed a romp through my phone's pictures, picking one for each month, a curation of my year with photographs that have not been shared through this blog, or social media (1 exception). There is only 1 travel photograph, none of my grandchildren, they are usually reserved for my big camera, and I definitely did not see them as much as usual. We missed a birthday, Thanksgiving, and Christmas together. No time with my sisters, which is really depressing, but surely 2021 will change that. 

Without travel there was no vacation and very little time off but my job was considered essential, which I am grateful for because I spent the seasons outside and isolated. The usual patterns repeat in my year, full time art in winter, gardening the rest of the year. In January I had already started on my fall art show but was working on this piece titled "Balance". 

Travel to New Orleans was a blast. An historic ghost tour of the French Quarter was lead by the great Lord Chaz. Michael deMeng, our instructor is standing behind. February was still a month of optimism.

Once back at work for March, there was a lot of fear over Covid, and many of us were headed for the garden. This is a lovely old carving at Oak Hill that sits in the lower garden.

A self portrait of sorts, I can feel my wet feet. April is the month of stops and starts as the weather makes up its mind. Little did we know that frosts would continue into May! Tools and shears are often cleaned, especially if I've used them on boxwood, the boxwood blight is still very real.

May is a glorious month in our gardens, both visually and for first harvests. The guinea was still with us and had discovered the lettuce patch in my raised beds. So gently he would walk the row and pick at the tops.

June brought sweet peas.

Then I did something very brave and maybe foolish, I signed up for an online art class that would run for 10 weeks with 4 assignments. All of the students were young and it had been many, many years since I studied art in college. We were required to do value studies, use various mediums, and finish big projects through a group called Visual Arts Passage. I was the whiney one during critiques because I had so little experience. But I would do it all over again to learn what I learned. This was my July sample to prepare for something larger.

June was super hot and dry but August was fine. It was a great gardening month.

A friend had started hiking and we went for a short hike at a very local park on a glorious day in September. He insisted that I have my picture taken with this fabulous groove of sumacs. The sun was setting on a comfortable day at a time when lots of people were spending time outdoors.

Maybe the biggest highlight of the year has been Thursday night drawings online with my daughter and granddaughter. The program began because of Covid and is still running, titled "Illustration Isolation". All online with a large international following, we are able to work with photographs and turn them into drawings, paintings, digital images, what ever. Each is allotted 20 minutes of time and a number of professional artists work along side while we watch them from start to finish. From the earlier online class, I discovered a love of watercolor, something that I had not played with since high school, so that has been my goal with Thursday night drawings. I have several notebooks full, some are awful, but once in a while, it comes together. And by the way, my granddaughter is a rock star in the group and its youngest member.

Of course the phone is often used for weird botanical discoveries. Without a doubt, this is the largest barometer earthstar I have ever found, almost as big as my hand. Like miniature puff balls, they are a fungi (Astraeus hygrometricus) opening and closing with moisture and generally the size of an olive or large acorn, this one was magnificent and fully open on a blustery November day.

For December there is the annual Krampus exchange with fellow assemblage artists. It's a secret exchange and we build a Krampus figure based on the personality of the person that has been picked for us. My gift arrived from California, a garden gnome/Krampus, kind of like the gnome gone mad! He is perfect!

I can't imagine that this entire year passed without some nod to something positive. Some good that came from the new perspective. My small sampling, 1 from each month, actually reminded me of many good things. Wishing you all a Happy New Year, with a big emphasis on the happy and virtual embrace on the New Year. Take care.

 

Hands at Work

The month of December has been a whirlwind and I have been dropped off on the other side. Landing with a deep breath and happy to be healthy, the crunch of work in making holiday greens and flower arrangements was exhilarating. I failed at taking many photographs but have a lovely arrangement on my table as a reminder.

As art sales were good for the holidays, my mind has been contemplating the next step to fill up empty space in the gallery. The plan is to build some lucky leprechauns, something we all need, holding bouquets of 4 leaf clovers. The first step is to build the heads and then the bodies. The heads are small, plastic skulls, covered in clay to bring out the flesh. The bodies are wire, layered over with clay which ends with their clothes. I have 3 that are well on their way, but one has been fired because he's too ghoulish. Another head is in the works.

All leprechauns will be in a wall mounted frame or box, wearing leprechaun suits and shoes. Skinny legs will have striped tights. Life is good!

 

Cones

About 40 years ago there was a desperate attempt to create shade on my property, which was previously grazed by cattle and wide open. Seedling white pines were planted, 100 or more and they have grown to twenty-five and thirty feet, creating shade, often more than desired, and a slew of pine cones. As much as these are annoying (slow to break down and hard to walk on), I recently became fascinated by "pine cones" in general. The term itself  refers to a cone from a pine but in reality they are the receptacle for seeds from conifers. 

 

 

 

There are about 550 species of conifers which would indicate that there are as many types of "pine cones". Cone bearing is the definition of the word conifer which includes trees and shrubs with needles but also scales. Size can vary from the pea sized cones of chamaecyparis to the massive sugar cones of Pinus lambertiana, native to California. Pines are the largest family members, and maybe why the term pine cone stuck, but we also have fir, spruce, cedar, hemlock, redwood, and larch. As a group they are gymnosperms which translates to naked seed, the cones we find in winter are all female, carriers of the seed, which is located between the bracts or cones scales, resting against the core. Pollinated by wind, the male cone is much smaller, and has long since faded, lacking the design or structure of the female cone which is capable of hanging on a tree for up to ten years. Built to protect the seed, a cone will open with heat, close with cold and wet. Most are resinous to some degree, the resin functions as a fire igniter, most conifers live in areas of fire culture. The benefits of fire open the cones, lift and blow the seed, depositing them in areas where the underbrush is temporarily burnt back so they can land, sprout, and thrive. A few cones are so covered in resin that only fire will release the seed. 

 

Most seed have a wing which helps them fly with wind, some have adapted fleshy seeds like cypress to entice birds to feed and disperse. Squirrels will also feed on the seed, a task that requires the dismantling of many cones to gather a large enough cache to feed on for winter. Like oak trees and acorns, the conifers will randomly produce an abundance of cones, also called a mast year and also irregular in occurrence, so that an abundance of seed overwhelms the land to outnumber the grazers. I feel like this was a mast year for my white pines as I kicked cones into piles, wondering if deciduous trees may have made a better choice. All of that has changed as I find myself searching for different cones and adding to my collection with unique cones arriving in the mail from distant places. They really are beautiful gifts of nature.

Workin!

It's been a slammin, walkin miles a day, and hectic 2 weeks since I returned to Merrifield Gardens to work on holiday arrangements. I  love the opportunity to be creative with evergreen boughs, berries, ribbon, and pinecones, and I'm in a bubble with fellow creatives and unbelievable choices in content. This is my 3rd December to be in the trenches, so it's become very instinctive and satisfying.

Wearing a face mask all day has become second nature, and the entire shop has been opened up to allow shopping with separation. As our team is currently working with evergreens, branches, and berries, the flowers arrive the week before Christmas so they stay fresh through Christmas and hopefully New Years. To be completely frank, what is  coming is exciting (I had my hand in the ordering!!!) and I can't wait to work with some unique and interesting flowers. 

One of the trends this year is smaller arrangements for personal spaces, rather than the single centerpiece for a large gathering. In time, we will be over this crazy pandemic, and then we will be ready for the family convention, the 36" centerpieces! Just not yet.