No drawings this time, but here’s photos of one of my favourite places that we visited in Newfoundland. It’s Grates Cove at the northern tip of the Avalon Peninsula. We visited twice, had an excellent meal at the Grates Cove Studio amidst terrific artwork and walked on trails overlooking the ocean and later amidst the remains of old dry stone walls that surrounded the gardens of early settlers.
If you’d like to see more Newfoundland photos, I’ve opened a flickr account and uploaded 57 photos from our trip.
And if you click on the image below, you can see some of my artwork in my etsy shop:
This week, while out walking under trees in my neighbourhood and admiring other people’s gardens, I came upon some tremendously beautiful clematis. This spring I’ve been restraining myself from photographing every flower I see, particularly those that I have many photos of. I’ve been doing better this year at stopping to admire scilla, crabapples, lilacs, lilies of the valley, irises without always pulling out the phone. However, there’s a limit to restraint and these flowers were it! Here’s a photo of them from midweek.
Last week, I printed the Sisters of Mercy linocut with the violet ink tinted with white. It’s on a pale blue Japanese paper with long fibres that I like. Then, on the weekend, I was out of town in Prince Edward County in Ontario. The countryside was filled with lilacs–lining the roads and lanes and in the small towns. Many were pale lavender but some were a deeper hue and even pinkish. As I admired their beauty and scent, I thought that the violet of the print had happily followed me into nature. The mercy of lilacs!
To see some of my work on etsy, go to artsofmay.etsy.com.
I’ve been working on several art projects as once. I’ll be completing the linocut from my last post. Meanwhile, I’ve taken some time to edit linocuts and poems for printing. When I get the physical postcards back from the printer, I’ll show them to you.
As I work and go about my days, part of me is always contemplating the climate of hatred in North America–the new president of the U.S., his withering executive orders, the recent murder of 6 muslim men at worship in Quebec City, Canada….
I’ve been thinking about hatred, which when left unexamined seems to me the curse of our species. Perhaps there are some people in the world who have never felt hatred, but I believe these would be in the great minority. Hatred, being a human emotion, is something any of us can feel.
I have found myself wishing to abolish hatred. However, when I’ve thought more closely about this, I realize that the greatest ill is not the hatred in our hearts. If we do the hard work of deeply looking at ourselves, we can develop the capacity to understand why we hate–what pain we have suffered that the hatred has arisen from–and not project this onto scapegoats. We have the capacity, then, to turn aside from violence of word and action. Instead, I see the greatest ill is when influential people stoke hatred and create scapegoats to gain power. This is what is most disturbing to witness at this time, both here in North America and overseas.
I didn’t know if I’d write about this on what is an art blog. Or tell you how fantastic the women’s march in Toronto on January 21st was. However, since I don’t work in a vacuum and since we are living in a critically important time in history, you have this post from me. The photo I’ve chosen is an antidote to hatred that I took several years ago while visiting friends in Saskatchewan.
It’s late in 2016. Late afternoon today the sun came splashing its light across the room.
Recently we were travelling in the countryside in Ontario where we spent some time on Lake Kashagawigamog. On the grounds of what was once a resort, I sat on the screened-in porch of the former lodge, turned community centre. There, I felt transported back to David Milne’s time. He was fresh on my mind after my last post that relates to him. The humble, beautiful woods, rocks and lake seemed places he could have been in and made art work about.
Ever accompanied by my trusty iPhone, I took photos while sitting quietly on the lodge’s porch. Because the building evoked an earlier time–including my own early childhood at my grandmother’s house in the 1940s and 50s–I shot some of the photographs in black and white. Here’s a few of the ones I took.
I often look up at the trees and sky as I walk in Toronto. This beautiful spring, the first buds looked like lace to me. I’ve loved watching the trees begin to flower, the changes visible just days apart. Here’s photos of the same trees taken on April 28, May 2, 5, 6 and 9. I’ve posted them in that order.