Something very different I’ve been meaning to do for ages – get together a collection of material I love about Vincent Van Gogh. I absolutely adore his artwork – ages ago, when I was holidaying in the Netherlands – I saw his art in the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam and it was truly wondrous. Enjoy!
I’ve been taking part in an on-line course on Creative Play and one of our projects – turning to serious matters – was to create a mandala to express unity, support and sympathy for victims of the Orlando massacres and their families and friends.
This is my mandala: 49 radiating lines for the victims, hearts to show love for the victims, families, friends and also the LGBT community. Butterflies represent transition to another dimension, the dolphin represents our emotional pain at this tragedy and support for the path towards healing, while the central heart has the word “Forever”.
If you would like to take part and tweet a photo of your mandala, the hashtag is #mandalasfororlando.
This is a tribute to all those who have created art (painting, photography, glass, sculpture, etc.,) since time immemorial – to those who have produced a vast array of images over the aeons, from rock & cave art to huge canvases to small pieces to doodlings at home, to paintings on crockery, both large & small sculptures, beautiful glassware, wherever people share their imagination, creativity and joy in art in all its multitude of manifestations.
It doesn’t matter if you’re well-known or simply creating art on small bits of paper at home – you are part of a tradition going back tens of thousands of years. Welcome to the tribe of artistic angels who light our own lives and those of so many others!
This digital art is created from a base of a frozen waterfall in the Smokies overlaid with a photo of a waterfall flowing into the sea at Big Sur. The horse in the bottom right hand corner represents the wealth of rock and cave art which still leaves us dazzled at the creativity and clarity of images. The frozen waterfall represents the images of the past, immortalised in so many ways through canvas, paper and whatever people have chosen as a base on which to create their images, while the flowing waterfall represents the never-ending creativity of humanity.
Credits: Frozen Waterfall, Republic of Ann – Dispatches from the Smokies
Big Sur’s McWay falls touches the Pacific, SmileCalm
This digital art is composed of layers of photographs I took of two parks. The base layer is the entrance to the Nature Park at Bowraville where I used to live on the mid-north coast of New South Wales. Over that is another photograph further into the park. It was established by an Aboriginal elder and when you walked in, it felt like entering paradise – a quiet, peaceful piece of nature where the outside world was cut off. Over those two I added another photograph of a more open park where I took the picture then found a spirit nature image hovering in front of a palm tree. Plain as a pikestaff – well, almost since it was a misty circle, certainly not from any of the sun’s rays. I felt the two went together.
I wondered about the spirit energy as this little town was where three Aboriginal children were murdered 20 years ago, no-one did anything as they were black, the town was very racist and the perpetrator, who is known, is still at large. I have mentioned previously that the three children came to me in a very clear dream, along with Aboriginal elders in spirit, to ask for my continuing help, so I always mention Bowraville and its events from time to time, to keep the memory and knowledge of these murders alive. Looking back, I wonder whether this mist was connected to the three children too, as they are not at rest.
Today’s post is of a small glass jar I have on my desk with dried grasses which I collected here in North Cyprus. Around the jar is a small chain with pearls which I had left over from jewellery making, and hanging from that chain are two spider pendants representing Spider, my totem.
When I download photos, I always work first to sharpen and adjust the image with PicMonkey. Additionally, today I worked with BeFunky which has recently upgraded its offerings to get the colour around the jar and grasses, and the frame around the whole image. Then I corrected some background marks with the “heal” function in Pixlr.
I think this poem suits my little collection of grasses.
the thin sunlight that goes deep in the bones.
Praise the crows chattering in the oak trees;
though they are clothed in night, they do not
despair. Praise what little there’s left:
the small boats of milkweed pods, husks, hulls,
shells, the architecture of trees. Praise the meadow
of dried weeds: yarrow, goldenrod, chicory,
the remains of summer. Praise the blue sky
that hasn’t cracked yet. Praise the sun slipping down
behind the beechnuts, praise the quilt of leaves
that covers the grass: Scarlet Oak, Sweet Gum,
Sugar Maple. Though darkness gathers, praise our crazy
fallen world; it’s all we have, and it’s never enough.
I revisited a watercolour painting I created in Australia of a dragonfly and birds, giving it more pop with PicMonkey and Pixlr. And the reason I called it “Take Me to the Moon” is the video below which I hope you will enjoy. Another kind person to remind us of how much good there is in the world!
And here’s the link to the explanatory article on Facebook:
I have been missing in action because we’ve been doing some switcheroos with our usual space arrangements in our apartment, called the “Hotel MoBro” by a friend when our stray dogs and cats started moving in. She reckoned there was a sign visible only to cats and dogs which said: “For a good feed and cuddle, head in this direction!”.
In the three years we’ve been here we’ve stuck to our original organisation: I’ve used our front, large room with a verandah while my husband’s used the smaller bedroom for his tools and model railway. Then, on Monday in the late afternoon, it all changed: my air-conditioner suddenly started spitting hailstones at me which, being smart, I took as a sign to switch it off and call for the repair man to pay a visit.
In the meantime, I switched my computer to the table in my husband’s room and, hey presto! It felt so much better than my usual space. It felt cosy, welcoming and as if it was really ready, willing and able to encourage my creative juices. I asked my husband what he felt about switching spaces and got the answer when he rushed around and starting moving all my gear into the smaller room and his gear into my former study (just so I couldn’t change my mind!).
Here’s the final arrangement – there were lots of windows in my former study, but more wall space in my new room which means I’ve been able to hang more of my paintings. The other plus is that this room is much easier to keep cool in our monster heatwave (38C/100F) practically every day. And all that was wrong with the airconditioner spitting hailstones was a re-gas. We’ve also had all our other air-conditioners serviced too.
Good news day!