Monday, July 20, 2009

Being Art

Niko Freckle Cloud 



Here are three of last week's Art Girls - each with her own special name, each shining in her own special way. These were large portraits, big enough to cover the windows of my house.  On the last morning of camp, they were taped to the sunroom windows, facing out onto the sidewalk, looking out at the world.  Anyone passing by could see what had been happening inside all week long while it was raining outside.  At one point, while painting her portrait, Niko smudged her face with her rainbow fingers, "I don't think she wants to be art today," she said somewhat whimsically.   Of course she did, she just didn't know it yet.  And here she is with two of her friends - all of them quite happy to be art. 


Jami Rainbow Songbird 
Siena Clattering Cricket 

 On the second day of camp last week a friend and her son, who are moving to Victoria, dropped a note in the mail slot of my door.  All of the Art Girls were just getting started when we heard the letter slipping through the slot.  I opened it and there was a lovely farewell note along with a fridge magnet:  a painting of a polar bear with the words When I grow up - I want to be art.  So wonderful!  It reminded me of the little boy I once taught who told his mother that when he grew up he wanted to be a Humane Society - "You know the place that saves animals," he explained, "that's what I want to be."  What wonderful aspirations - to be art, to be humane, to save animals.  Three more portraits to post tomorrow . . . 

Summer View From My Kitchen Window

Summer View From My Kitchen Window
I am already more than a week into my summer holidays and just beginning to settle into this greenest of seasons - so glad to be at home with my windows and my light. I am just learning how to post these blogs, spending too much time in front of my computer, not enough time with the sky.  The morning began with thunder - an hour of pouring rain and thunder!!  Long after sunrise, the sky was still dark and ominous, but then suddenly the sun broke through. I put on my garden shoes, grabbed my camera, and went out to the flowers . . .   

After the Rain

After the Rain
After all that wild weather, the day lily leaves were covered with such quiet raindrops . . . 

After the Rain

After the Rain
One side of my yard is lined with leafy peonies - the grandmother of all flowers - pink, white, deep, deep red.  I have been deadheading the flowers all week long, but this one, just opening, survived the storm. I have lived in my house for nearly twenty years; these peonies were here long before I moved in and with any luck will be here long after I am gone.