Moss and Lichen On a Wall

 They are always around us, but rarely noticed. On a gray day towards the end of winter, a shady wall is more colorful that anything in the garden it protects. The textures are enough to make me linger---velvety moss outlining each rough brick and pale lichens doing their very best impression of peeling paint. Look closely at that almost-florescent yellow lichen. It has crept along and dusted the moss with yellow, like the aftermath of a busy honeybee spreading grains of pollen out over the petals of a flower. Such marvels of nature, right there on a brick wall.

Annunciation, Simone Martini

 What do you miss from the "Before Times?" I miss museums, especially Washington's National Gallery of Art. There are artworks that I think of as my particular friends. I like to visit them every time, just to see how they are doing. This painting is about the size of a sheet of paper. I love everything about it; the warm colors, the textures stamped into the gilded background, even the odd tone of the flesh (probably because lead has discolored it over the centuries.)  It is crackled, flaked and chipped. The Archangel Gabriel has been intent on presenting that branch to the unseen Virgin Mary for 700 years. I am looking forward to seeing my old friend again, hopefully some day soon.

Button Love

 All artists are drawn to certain materials, techniques and themes. This is what defines their art. The shape of a heart appears often in my work. Sometimes it is obviously a heart, a pleasingly versatile shape that holds connotations of love. Other times it's not recognizable, just a line or a shape that starts with a gentle curve then becomes more, well, curvy at one end. Mother of pearl buttons find their way into almost anything that requires embellishments. They read as neutral-white but also have flashes of iridescence. I'm in my happy place, sorting through their variations in size and carved details. Happy Valentine's Day. Spend part of this day in your own happy place.

Winter In The Park

 We had no significant snow last winter. When you are a small child, waiting almost two years to make a snowball or go sledding seems like a lifetime. Last weekend our snow drought ended with just enough to build a snowman but still have a nice snow lawn for him to stand on. The trees, frosted and lacy, are my favorite part of a snowy day. I watched the kids slide down the little hill, bright pops of color moving in the midst of a black and white world. Then I carefully crunched my way home.