Friday, August 29, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Sunday, August 24, 2008
I am back at work after about 3 months off. To ease myself back into it, I went in the afternoon to the beautiful little rose garden we have on campus. There is a water fountain, and beside it is a small gazebo with two benches facing one another. It is a lovely spot for solitary contemplation, or the sharing of secrets with friends. It was the perfect park bench to draw, there in the shade of the honeysuckle vine, with the scent of roses, and gentle flow of the water. Aaah, perfection itself! The angle of the arms and legs on that wretched bench drove me crazy. I tried and tried, gowing ever more frustrated. Finally, I gave up and sought to soothe myself with a walk around the pond. Where, to my chagrin, there were a great many other park benches, none of which had arms like the ones that had just defeated me! "Oh well", I lied to myself, "that's why they call it a challenge. I'm sure I learned a lot." I'm not sure I did, but after a while, I managed to clean it up a lot and added some color. It's still not quite right, especially on the right side, but I hope it conveys the tranquility of the spot (when I'm not there drawing).
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Friday, August 08, 2008
I took up drawing again, mostly because I was inspired by the flowers growing in my small garden. I had wanted a cottage type garden, and had planted daisies, delphiniums and roses. The daisies are my favorite perennial - cheerful, persistent and worry free.
Botanical: Bellis perennis (LINN.) Family: N.O. Compositae
Synonyms---Bruisewort. (Scotch) Bairnwort. (Welsh) Llygad y Dydd (Eye of the Day).
Parts Used---Root, leaves.
Historically used as a cure for fresh wounds in an ointment applied externally, and against inflammatory disorders of the liver, taken internally by distilling in water.
To the Daisy
"In youth from rock to rock I went,
From hill to hill in discontent
Of pleasure high and turbulent,
Most pleased when most uneasy;
But now my own delights I make,--
My thirst at every rill can slake,
And gladly Nature's love partake,
Of Thee, sweet Daisy!
- William Wordsworth