Showing posts with label vase. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vase. Show all posts

"Tempus fugit"




It's Daylight Saving Time, so I'll be jet-lagged all week. I always am.

But I admit, I'm thinking of all that glorious light that will greet me on the way home from work soon. Maybe I won't have to put my headlights on for the commute. That may just compensate for those brain-fogged mornings.

We slept in on Saturday and came downstairs to bake some Williams-Sonoma golden-fresh croissants and marmalade. Our camellias are blooming, so we have them, as well as daffodils, all over the place, in vases.

Today, the land line phone rang, and I heard Joe answer it and listen. Then, he slowly went over to a table, and quietly laid down the receiver, (still on,) and turned on the TV close by. He left the phone there for the telemarketer to listen to while we went on our merry way.


Gotta' love it. Wish I'd thought of that. (Almost makes me not care about our "do not call" status.)

Beware the ides of March...

But do go see Alice in Wonderland if you can! It's wonderful:



“There aren’t enough days in the weekend.” (-Rod Schmidt)

“The rhythm of the weekend, with its birth, its planned gaieties, and its announced end, followed the rhythm of life and was a substitute for it.” (-F Scott Fitzgerald)



Have a beautiful weekend, all!

(And I hope yours is filled with some planned gaieties!)

"I have loved flowers that fade..."

Ah, best made plans...I was so determined to get painting and sewing and creating with the onset of the New Year, but Duke has been pulling me in other directions, so I have to tell myself “All in good time!” You know how that is!

Still, I did come home Thursday and put all the Christmas things away for another year.

Today is my son Eric’s 32nd birthday, and so, of course, I will have him on my mind all day long. He was born in 1977, the night we moved, in a snowstorm, on Superbowl Sunday. He surprised me that night, and he’s surprised and delighted me ever since. Happiest of Birthdays, Eric! I love you!

We had flowers in a vase on our table for two weeks, and they’ve lasted beautifully, but today, I decided, after cutting them down and putting them into my favorite vase for one last hurrah, that it’s time to say they’ve graced us long enough. I sketched this of them and now I will say good bye to them.

Have a wonderful weekend, all!

I have loved flowers that fade,
Within whose magic tents
Rich hues have marriage made
With sweet unmemoried scents...

(from “I have loved flowers that fade” by Robert Bridges)

“God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December” (-Unknown)

You love the roses—so do I. I wish
The sky would rain down roses, as they rain
From off the shaken bush. Why will it not?
Then all the valley would be pink and white
And soft to tread on. They would fall as light
As feathers, smelling sweet: and it would be
Like sleeping and yet waking, all at once.

(-George Eliot)

“We can complain because rose bushes have thorns or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.” (-Unknown)



Room Service

"Room service."

Are there two more beautiful words in the English language after a long day on the road?

There’s something quite soothing about a meal delivered to you with a rose in a vase at the end of the day. Granted, the meal’s not exactly the same as a home-cooked meal…but somehow that’s still ok if you can keep the rose and savor its simple beauty for the rest of the visit. I'll set my tray outside the room but I always save the flower.

And then, of course, there’s always the notion of a ready-made sketching image just waiting to happen... hmmmmmm…

“Room service? Send up a larger room.” (-Groucho Marx)

Have a great weekend, all!

"To be overcome by the fragrance of flowers is a delectable form of defeat." (~Beverly Nichols)

I came home from my latest trip to a familiar sight: whenever I’ve been gone and return home, Joe has a sweet ritual he always goes through. He vacuums, cleans, and he puts flowers out virtually everywhere for me to enjoy.

My eyes dashed from surface to surface, and each spot held a little vignette he’d arranged, and he knew I'd appreciate them all.

Our knockout roses are still going strong, and the impatiens are up to my knees out in the yard, so Joe picked some to scatter around our place for me. It's nice to see what caught his eye in our garden.

He tucked a few zinnias into arrangements, and the blue salvias in our kidney bean bed are still amazingly blue and sending out color like crazy. Little miniature coral and yellow roses are still blooming as well.

Bright pink and yellow lantana are crowding out other flowers, enjoying the cooler temps we’ve had lately, and the Mexican sage and Mexican petunias are vibrant and happy now that fall’s made its presence clear in Cary, NC.

Joe’s very brave with his use of color, as you can see!

It was a joy not to have to head to a hotel room again, but it was even more pleasant to actually smell roses!

And while I certainly don’t expect flowers all over upon my return…it sure is nice!

"Flowers... are a proud assertion that a ray of beauty outvalues all the utilities of the world." ( ~Ralph Waldo Emerson, 1844)

Have a most pleasant weekend, all—I’ll be on the west coast Monday and back in the saddle again.




“Nature is my medicine.” (-Sara Moss-Wolfe)

Now that the hurricane winds have finally subsided, the weather is wonderfully calm and comfortable.


At Oberlin College in Ohio, today, the quad was verdant and lovely, and I spent some time relaxing on the lawns in the center of the town and campus.

Students were out making music in the grass, and boys and their dogs were bonding with Nature.



An albino squirrel stood, investigating the fallen limbs for nuts that might have been dislodged, and townspeople sat on benches relaxing in the sun and comfortable temps.


“Those who dwell among the beauties and mysteries of the earth are never alone or weary of life.” (~Rachel Carson)

"What sculpture is to a block of marble, education is to a human soul." (-James Addison)

Every fall, when I'm visiting college campuses, I love to seek out the art, and there are always fabulous sculptures to enjoy. I’ll share just a few of my favorites with you today.

UC Davis (the University of California) has a wonderfully witty piece of art that greets you in front of their library…

A tangle of vines calls to me every time I step foot on the grounds of Carleton College in Northfield, Minnesota…

This rabbit, perched atop his rock at Washington University in St Louis, Missouri always makes me smile as he mimics Rodin’s Thinker…


Whitman College, in Washington state, is rife with wonderful art, and this horse constructed from driftwood oversees a quad there…


And at Kenyon College, in Gambier, Ohio, a sculpture of a boy and girl throwing their heads and arms back in glee is one that I love...


But perhaps my favorite sculpture was at Kenyon College the last time I visited, and today when I looked for it, it was gone…so I’m glad I got this photo when I was there before…


“Sculpture and painting have the effect of teaching us manners and abolishing hurry.” (-Ralph Waldo Emerson)

"Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it." (~William Arthur Ward)

Today, of course, is Sept. 11th.

We all know that for the rest of our lives, all of us will collectively remember a horrific tragedy on this anniversary and share a common sense of grief.

Yesterday, I was in a car accident, and when it hit me what day it was today, I found myself contemplating just how very fortunate I am. I was reminded, once again, of how things in life really are capable of changing in an instant.

Sitting in a left-hand turning lane, stopped--I was waiting for a red light to turn green, when I suddenly heard a loud banging sound and then saw metal and plastic flying all over. I instantly recognized that it was me who'd been hit. A white truck had side-swiped the rental car I was in.


Thankfully, I am fine, if a little emotionally "rattled," and the person driving the truck was fine. Several people who had witnessed what happened came running over and were so kind and helpful. A pleasant young man spent his night locating and moving a new rental car to my hotel last night, and I am prepared to move on. (white truck pulled up near inner median to get it out of the way of traffic, below)

I am one lucky woman , and I know that…(note the side-view mirror is gone, below)

We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures. (~Thornton Wilder)

“Out of clutter, find Simplicity. From discord, find Harmony. In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity. (-Albert Einstein)

OK, on the one hand, I can be totally anal about being organized, but I can also be a total slob. How is that so?

Right now, I’m in the midst of overhauling my office/studio space upstairs. I have for three years been complaining about the disarray up there and it’s just TIME to do something about it. Before I head out on the road one more time, this September, I want this space to be organized and neatened up.

First of all, I inherited a "salmony" color in this room that I hated. It actually looks better in the photo than it did in real life, and it was so dismal and dreary up there in that room. I travel for my job all fall, but when I’m not on the road, I work from home, so I have TONS of work materials that arrive in boxes about this time of summer every year. I do wind up using them as I head around the country—they go off with me, but they have to be stored in my place, so in the past, I have always had them cluttering up my office.


This year, I have taken the bull by the horns, though—they’re moving out! I have relegated all the work related supplies and brochures etc to the attic and to a closet off of this room, and I am already feeling calmer just seeing how the clutter is going to be disappearing, once our work is done.

We’re painting the walls and some bookcases, and organizing things so it will be a good work office and art studio. (I’ve always called it that, but it’s been a mess with mostly work-related items in here until now.)

So, stay tuned—it has a long ways to go—I’m making curtains to get rid of the blinds I hate, and I’m putting down a new rug, and hanging all kinds of prints/photos to cheer me up. I’ll post the final photos once it’s all done. Wish me luck!


“Make room for the new you. You may not have totally determined who the new you is going to be, but you probably have decided that there are some things about the current you that you want to change. Well, while you are working on what the new you will be, start ‘cleaning out a room’ for the new you to live in. Get rid of the junk in your life both physical and mental that doesn’t fit you anymore. Take things out of your schedule that are taking your time away from finding out what you want to do. By making room for the new you, you will create a vacuum that the new you will rush in to fill and you will be on your way to the top.” (-Edward Smith)

I hadn’t really thought about a new me, but hey—why not!? ;))


Six degrees of separation

“The Internet has been the most fundamental change during my lifetime and for hundreds of years.” (-Rupert Murdoch)

My grandmother’s blue and white pitcher traveled in a physical journey by ship, all the way from Scotland to America. It was long ago broken, and I patched and nursed it together again with glue some years back. I’ve called upon it to hold flowers over the years, and often, as I fill it with water, I think about how much life it's lived, and how well it has survived. Then, it also traveled with me over the years to Virginia and North Carolina, still durable despite its mended cracks and age lines.

Late last night, I was browsing through my Flickr photostream as I am often wont to do, and I learned that a woman I “know” through the Internet, named Karin, who is living and teaching students in China, had her birthday today. I was excited for her, and then immediately had to calculate in my mind whether or not my note I would write to her would be a belated happy birthday in her time zone.

None of us any longer has to physically move at all; I can “travel” vicariously to distant lands and over time zones in a way that I never imagined would be possible some years ago, and all the while, I never have to leave the comfort of my own couch.


I’ve “met” a distant cousin in Scotland I’d never have known if not for the Internet and the genealogy work I did. To date, I have never physically met him, but I’ve Skyped him for hours on the computer and feel almost as if I’ve sat with him in the same room.

Every day, I interact with so many people around the globe whom I’ve never met, and some I may never meet, and yet I somehow feel I know them and understand at least some of the things that make them tick. They each enrich me on a daily basis. I have so many new “friends” in my world: an interesting gentleman, John Ward, in England, whose walks along the Thames fascinate me; another couple in Australia, Ray and Lorna Tomes; Jane and Bob Humphrey, a wonderfully charming couple in California, whom I've actually met; Karin Faulkner in China, who continually educates me about fascinating and foreign cultures; Chris Bonney, the wonderful photographer, in Virginia Beach, whose acerbic wit continues to delight me; Carol Gillott, that fabulously creative artist of "Paris Breakfast" fame, in New York, with whom I spoke on the phone just yesterday; Jeanette Sclar in Missouri; and a number right in my own back yard, Lin Frye and Laura Frankstone, two more inspired artists whom I never would have even known existed but for that amazing tool…the Internet. I have actually gone sketching with people around the country I've met through that wonderful vehicle. I even had a woman send me a note asking if she could buy the rights for something I had posted so she could use it for a young children's board book she is publishing.

Yesterday, I noted that on one of my blog posts recently, I received a note from the distant descendant of Ralph Waldo Emerson. Willow, from “Life at Willow Manor” (in Ohio) noted “That is totally amazing that a descendant of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s commented on your blog” and I most definitely have to agree.


“I have an almost religious zeal…not for technology per se, but for the Internet, which is for me, the nervous system of Mother Earth, which I see as a living creature, linking up.”
(-Dan Millman)

"Take it with a grin of salt." (-Yogi Berra)

“Wit is the salt of conversation, not the food.”
(-William Hazlitt)

Well now,... how could something like this happen? Evidently, I’ve become one of those people who collect salt and pepper shakers. There was no premeditation here, mind you. I never meant to do it. In fact, I've been known to make fun of those folks who do. It just happened.

Growing up, for special occasions, my mother had delicate, individual, glass salt cellars for each person at the table, and elegant , tiny spoons to go along with them. She gave them to me some years ago, and I have them in a pretty little box.


Joe came home one day with sweet little tulips, knowing that they're pretty much my all-time favorite flower.

Then, he and I were at the art museum, and I happened upon a set of “Picasso-esque” salt and peppers. Joe is a huge Picasso fan, so needless to say, they came home with us. I was enamoured of the way they sort of nestled together, as salt and peppers should.


At the flea market a few summers ago, we found two sweet bluebird S&P’s, and how could we resist that?


Finally, when I was at Biltmore this past spring, lo and behold, in the gift shop, I saw charming little pink birds for $7 that I had to have and now I've even done sketches of them.

Which is my favorite, you ask...?

I'd have to say...this one:


As Yogi Berra would say:
“Take it with a grin of salt.”

("...wouldn't you like to be a pepper, too?")



“The flower in the vase smiles, but no longer laughs.”


In every room of our house, there’s always a vase with cut flowers in it. Doesn’t matter what season: even in the dead of winter, we’ll have pansies and camellias to bring inside to brighten up the place. We're fanatics about it. I'll spend lots of time placing flowers in every room, and Joe will ask me, in a concerned tone, "Did you remember to put one in the bathroom upstairs?" Horrors, "yes," I'll respond, and he will calm down immediately to hear that reassuring news.
People tell me we have a lot of vases, and it’s true; we do. I suppose it’s a weakness, but it’s an ailment Joe suffers from even more than I do. He’ll spy a vase that he likes and he just can’t pass it by. I’ll remind him that we have plenty of them, but it’s just an addiction and I tell myself that he really can’t help himself.

As for me, I’m certainly not going to turn down a new one. Some I've had for years, some friends have given us and some Joe surprises me with. Cut flowers won’t always last that long, but part of the beauty of flowers is their ephemeral nature, and that’s what makes them so appealing to me in the first place. We're fortunate that most of our cut flowers are from our own gardens, and we love them.

“You’re only here for a short visit. Don’t hurry, don’t worry. And don’t forget to smell the flowers along the way.” (-Walter Hagen)

“He’s really the painter of light. Rembrandt is light on faces; Vermeer is just light, period.” (-Eduardo Serra)




I have always been a huge fan of Jan Vermeer’s paintings: without ever having had the benefit of a camera to aid him in his observations of it, he had such a masterful sense of light and its play on people and objects. He painted mostly interior scenes, and was purportedly very slow in producing only a few paintings a year. Only 35 paintings are firmly attributed to him today.

One of my favorite movies is Girl with a Pearl Earring, not so much for the story, but for the cinematography and the beauty of the lighting. Each scene in that movie resembles a Vermeer painting to me.

I was fortunate that I was able to visit Delft, in the Netherlands, Vermeer's hometown, some years ago. It’s a wonderfully quaint little town and I found myself wondering what it was there that so impacted Vermeer to create the beautiful images he did. Sadly, when he died fairly young, he left his wife with a large family to support and debts to be paid. She was forced to sell paintings and his tools of the trade to erase those debts. He was hardly known outside of his hometown, and when a diplomat came to visit the town and wanted to see some of Vermeer's work, he was sent to the local baker who owned several pieces of art that had been exchanged for bread for Vermeer's family.


“Light is the first of painters. There is no object so foul that intense light will not make it beautiful.” (-Ralph Waldo Emerson)