New paintings and regular art updates.
Soft little clouds
Fluttering like bird feathers
Swirling down the air currents
Darkness falling
Now the moon rises
Shadows lengthen.
Time to stretch our legs,
Head home,
A long, flat walk
Into the dusk.
Bat’s flitter overhead,
Moths race to our torches.
Mistaking them for the rising moon.
Home in time for supper.
Blue sky lost in the dark….
Are they? I think they are. Seen by my friend during a walk. They were in a garden along the canal. These were such a bright colour she took a photo of them.
Flowers are wonderful thing, such amazing structures, with colours outside of the visible spectrum that attract insects to pollinate them. They sometimes use the ultraviolet end of the spectrum to show insects where their nectar is. The trouble with flowers like these is that there are so many petals that the insects can’t get at the nectar. The human intervention of breeding flowers could have a detrimental effect on insect life. There are plants that are advertised as bee friendly, but sometimes that’s all it is, an advert. Single flowered plants are probably best.
Hubby is walking to Barlaston in Staffordshire along the Trent and Mersey canal South from Staffordshire. Here is a photo of a blue canal boat that was passing as they walked along. Its at least seven miles so I hope they will be OK as they might be waking back as well if they don’t contact me to give them a lift. I would have walked with them but I did four up and down hill yesterday and my legs, particularly my knees are very stiff today.
Seeing photos like this makes me realise what a green and wet country we live in. We do get droughts but not as seriously as other countries. Waiting for their call….
From ssummer two years ago. A reflection and mirrored image of the canal surface at Middleport. Taken when we went to see the ceramic poppies that were used to decorate the bottle kiln at Middleport pottery. The art work of thousands of ceramic poppies travelled round Britain in 2018, to celebrate the centenary of the end of the First World War in 1918. If I find a photo of the poppies I will share it.
I’m in the reflection, you can see my fingers holding my phone in the bottom right hand pane of glass. Acrylic on canvas. Approx three foot by two foot. Painted a couple of years ago and exhibited at Spode and The Waiting room gallery at Longport. I’ve not painted much for the last six months because of covid 19 and doing my MA in illustration. But I know I need to paint again. I don’t want it to stop. I will be planning to paint more images from the Spode site. I love industrial archaeology. I hope to celebrate more of it in paint.
Ferns are ancient plants. They predate flowering plants. You can find fossils of them in the carboniferous era. They propagate, not by seed, but by spores which are held on the underside of the leaves. In sporediea. They are discharged into the air and are blown away by the wind. From there they create tiny ferns, I can’t remember the exact details because its over forty years since I learnt about them. All I can say is I must look it up. I do know they have silica in their cells and can be toxic to cattle and sheep.
Ferns are beautiful, they have lovely spiral fronds which then unfurl. There are different colours shapes and sizes. I know that some people have gardens full of ferns. I obviously need to find out more.
Look up on the sky. Can you see it? The rain arch. I don’t understand it. That’s not normal? Who knows what it means?
Is it a stunt, is it possible? How can you believe that is real?
These were the questions being asked by people who saw it. The picture went viral. Then stories of other arches appeared in the news. There was more rain and more arches. No one had an explanation. But strange things continued to happen. The rain arches started appearing at night. There was only the arches. A new phenomena.
Oh come on cat! I can’t move because you are lying om my leg. Weighing it down, stretched out on my lap. I don’t want to disturb you, warm and sleepy. But I need my leg back! It’s falling asleep. I’ve got pain on my ankles, in my hip, in my lower back… There are plenty of other places you could sit or lie. But I want to move. Then you sigh, and relax, and I am lost. I am just your mattress, your bed. I am your slave.
Today I was walking up hill and through a local nature reserve. There were also steep steps down which must have been 18 inches deep. I had to grab hold of the handrail and lower myself down each step.
I’ve decided to walk up our steep hill each time we go out for a walk so me and my friend both get a good stretch of our legs and I hope to get the hill over and done with at the start…. Then she decided to drag me up some extra steep bits..
Ooo my ankles hurt! Tomorrow I might be walking to a local park to do some sketching.
I wish I was in that boat,
floating on the lake,
watching the ducks
taking flight
with great strides
across the water….
Flap, flap, fly
soaring over me
reflected in the water
like the white sails
of the boat
stirring in the breeze
rippling the water.
Floating along, calm.
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