mimi's garden

From the time I was born until I was almost five I lived in a house on my grandparents farm. It was the house my mother was born in and right next door to my great grandmother Mimi. Her tiny house was filled with well-tended house plants that seemed to thrive on the ice cubes she casually dropped in after finishing her sweet tea. A giant asparagus patch and bright heat tolerant annuals were just outside her door. South Georgia heat waves cloud my barely tangible memories. But I do know that every day I ran across the yard to spend time with my quiet, garden-loving great grandmother. It seems a fitting tribute to name these bright, sun-loving prints after her. I have a few more designs to complete for this collection, but at least I know what to call them.

pretty in pink

A complete color way of my Butterflies and Blossoms collection is taking shape. Pink and green, just in time for spring's big show in my garden, which happens to be dominated by pink and green as well. I've also put together shades of golden yellow, lavender and clear sky blue. I think these prints will make a very lovely quilt for a little girl's room. Perhaps the little girl we have on the way right now will have a butterflies and Blossoms quilt someday. I hope she likes pink. Part of me never thought I'd say that, being only luke warm to all things girly most of my life. But these days I'm not afraid to embrace the pink. Bring on the tutus and tiaras, I'm ready. With that said, I can't help but hope she'll also like a little dirt under her nails from time to time like her mother.

color love

I'm very happy with how my hummingbird collection is coming together, especially the color.
Hummingbirds like vibrant colors right? More to come.

santa monica walk

Last morning in LA before returning home. Possibly the best week at work, ever. I even managed to fit in dinner with the California family. They took me to this great little hole in the wall place, the oldest restaurant in Santa Monica, The Galley (great mussels). Jason's family has LA roots. Hopefully we can get back out there soon for a longer visit. I love Santa Monica.

a very good day

Absolutely one of the best days at work, ever. Amazing photo shoot up the PCH with Robb Aaron Gordon and his great crew. Fall was crazy busy and alot of personal stuff fell by the wayside but I would be remiss not to make a mental note of this great day. Oh and iphone camera, you rock.

antique love

From a recent lazy afternoon in Frederick Maryland at Emporium Antiques.

my favorite window

I drive by this window every morning on my way to work. A while back I decided it was my favorite window.  Colorful and quilt-like, it stands out like a beacon in a sea of sameness. I finally stopped to take a picture. Stopping to take a picture is my way of saying: Yes, it's a commute, back and forth, back and forth, filled with all the boredom and frustration typical of a daily slog to work. And many days, I'd rather be anywhere but here, driving to the same job I've held for the last ten years. But if I don't stop to take this picture, I'm just resigning myself to a life without spontaneity.

It's a small but important step toward what might be. It's also a way of acknowledging the beauty right in front of me. And perhaps if I take enough pictures, a pattern will start to emerge, and then this commute will become not just the back and forth, but the promise of a future in the place I really want to be. The short answer: I won't be driving this road forever, might as well enjoy it. St. Paul Street, Baltimore

run, jump and spin

Winterthur continued. The children's garden is wonderful here. We spent the whole afternoon running around. Sometimes in circles.

koi

More from Winterthur.

three views of a fountain

The Gardens at Winterthur.

I could actually do this...

It isn't completely beyond the pale to think one day I could make my own mosaic beast. Of course I probably ought to start small, tackle a few more trivets. But it is encouraging to know I have instructions on how to do it in one of my favorite books, Outdoor Mosaics by Emma Biggs and Tessa Hunkin. (from the looks of the link, it may be out of print.) The beast above is from the book. How I would I love have a field and a beast to sit by it some day.

I love this bird

Quite a while back I decided to take pictures of cool stuff that I see within the rigid confines of my daily commute then I fell completely off the blogging wagon. This one's a no-brainer: the Visionary Art Museum bird just around the corner from my office. Making a giant mosaic animal of some sort is actually on my list of things to do in this life time. Poor little blog, hopefully I'm going regain some momentum now. Since I don't do google analytics and I don't post daily, the only real reason for blogging is me. So why not give me a little love and start posting.

My parents live out in the country. Suburbia is closing in fast, but for the time being, they have few neighbors and have to deal with pesky things like baby ticks on your ankles every time you walk outside and a finicky well that doesn't take kindly to being treated like a bottomless municipal water supply. Their grass has turned brown and it's not likely to turn back to that safe, suburban green because they need water for more important things, like drinking. Last time I saw my mom she told me a well story and upon hearing it, my metaphor detector started dinging like crazy. They got a little water-happy last month and drew the well down hard and fast during a serious dry spell. Then all of the sudden, mud started pouring out of the tap. They depleted the well so much the walls had caved in. It took several days of well TLC and patience for the water to clear up and life to resume the normal rhythems of laundry and cooking.

For me the metaphor is this, I've had a serious muddy period in my creative life, every creative impulse is thick and clouded over as mud and I can't see through it to actually get shit done. This period has had a direct correlation with me stopping the blog posts, and I didn't really see it until now. As silly is it seems, I think I let my well run dry. Apparently I need to keep looking and dreaming to be able to keep doing. So here's to waiting for the water to clear-up and not taking the simple things for granted. I need to respect my well.