In Harvest

In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy.

Drive your cart and your plow over the bones of the dead.

The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.

Prudence is a rich ugly old maid courted by Incapacity.

He who desires but acts not, breeds pestilence.

The cut worm forgives the plow.



Dip him in the river who loves water.

A fool sees not the same tree that a wise man sees.

He whose face gives no light, shall never become a star.

Eternity is in love with the productions of time.

The busy bee has no time for sorrow.

The hours of folly are measur'd by the clock, but of wisdom: no clock can measure.







-William Blake

Golden

the view back toward the Cohuttas

A field in morning light

an incredible display by mr. hickory tree

seed pods travel on silken parachutes

dont know what this is but looks like a good seed harvest

a work in progress

I find my self in an unusual situation: covered up in work! I have several pressing deadlines and havent been able to work on my garden in weeks. Hopefully this weekend I can get some manure and leaves and compost on the beds before first frost, which is close. Ive been shooting jewelry again for a company in NYC. I love doing this work, it pays well, and its much much easier than illustration.

I am also still working on the movies for the Chamber of Commerce and have some more video work lined up. Then I am planing on having an open studio sale the weekend after Thanksgiving. Handmade Holiday. However, today I have to illustrate a holiday card for a local bank. I painted 2 yesterday and dont like either one. That's rare for me, I usually get it on the first try. So I start my workday today with a psychological deficit. Let's hope the mind clearing country stroll worked its magic. Have a terrific day!

Haiku Monday: Ghost

Candy corn fangs and 

ghost infested hemlocks; Jack

grins with sweet promise

Haiku Monday is a multi-participant weekly contest. For details please visit Ether Capacious. 

Riffin' on: 29 Black Street

In an effort to avoid my actual work, I took an afternoon off to play. I decided it would be fun to do a series of paintings riffing on the work of other artists. Fittingly, I chose to start with a piece inspired by Susan Black of 29 Black Street, because she had taken a class where I believe this was one of the assignments: riffing. Here are the pieces I used for my reference:

I composed my 4 bird painting by dissecting Susan's Dandelion piece; I drew the birds and then began to layer paint in each birds' background, then adding the linear details and finally, the collage elements. I liked her warm palette with black punctuation. Instead of watercolor, I used an opaque acrylic gouache and I added a bit of sea green to the palette - just enough to show through the warm layers.

I had this old frame and mat laying around and made the bird painting to fit it. The image size is 7 x 11. After it was framed, I determined that red dots were desperately needed to bring this tepid frame into the land of the living. Now we have a modern folk art vibe! I gave the piece to the Blue Ridge Mountain Arts Center to auction off at their Spooks and Spirits benefit tomorrow night, but I really wanted to keep it! Thanks, Susan! xo

A solid 9 on the Chick-o-meter

I look like a junker, but I've got a shiny new engine and transmission

Mid-October Mixed Grain

Haiku Monday: Homecoming

Flower of the field,
daredevil flying low; crash
into eternal

*****************

Halloweenish in the air lately:

I shot a little video of the changing leaves on my street, set to the music of the most elegant horror movie of all time. (guess) ****only 24 seconds!

You know you're a redneck when.....

this is your actual living room.

How'd that thing you were in turn out?

You may recall the week I spent posting about the process of making this painting of Flannery O'Connor. You'll be happy to know I managed to eeeek out a 2nd place prize which involves actual money. It was the perfect reward; it left me the "best of show" to aspire to. It was an excellent exhibition 0f 143 pieces whittled down from 600 something. This year I got lucky with a judge that wasn't married to realism. The grand prize winner was way off the reservation. Big paintings are the way to go.


Yet another excellent (and free) internet platform:

Edging into my blogging time is Pinterest. I have always been an image archiver with most of them loaded into a hard drive and retrieved when curating little essays, like, say, on bad easter rabbits. But Pintrest makes it fun to organize content. Here's a screen shot that shows a few of my collections. You can "follow" me there -and anybody else too. Or follow by topic or search imagery. Its great, I love it but it is addictive.

You know I also have a Tumblr. Pillbox Elk. I use it mostly to store GiF's that I like. And movies, like  the  Luche Libre video featuring Javier Solis singing "Payaso" and an introduction to sacred geometry.

Have you looked at your blog in dynamic views yet? It looks great! I will be making the switch. The sidebar goes away, though, when you do, so I need to figure out some ways to work around that. I've also been trying to use my Google Voice phone more too. The coolest thing it does is when you click on a person on your email list, google calls them, and rings your cell phone when their phone starts ringing. In a very google big brotherish way, it pulls up the person's picture as it appears on your cell phone. Oh yes. 


My friend Started a Blog that is about a big public art piece she did. She doesn't know anybody on blogger, and isn't likely to become a frequent blogger, but if you have a moment, would you pop over there and answer one simple question? By participating, you expand the project, keeping it alive and in flux. The address is: http://www.onemillionthoughtsofjoy.blogspot.com/

What's everybody doing to celebrate this gorgeous autumn we are having?

City and Swamp

the view from our room at the Monteleone

As a kind of valentine to my Mom, I traveled to New Orleans and Baton Rouge to visit relatives on her side of the family, mainly my colorful uncle Tommy, her little brother. They had different fathers; Mom had the wild irish railroad man, and Tom had grandmother's second husband, a well-known bookie and gambler. My uncle(s) and cousins have carried that tradition on as they are all professional card players. Banned from most north american casino black-jack tables now, they can only play poker against other players - never the house. They are card-counters and work in teams, bankrolled by some outfit in New York. They have to leave the country to play the house and even that has become difficult. This was a source of endless fascination for V, which was good because life at my uncles can be boiled down to a few things: LSU football, food, drinking and cards.

The first night I planned for us to be in New Orleans where we stayed at the beautiful Hotel Monteleone on Royal Street. It is known for this famous carousel bar:

The seating rotates around the bar offering patrons views of the French Quarter, the opulent hotel lobby, various Frenchy works of art and of course other drunkards. I didn't go for the typical Nawlins drinks, I stuck with my usual "deer and a beer":

deer and a beer

A high school friend picked us up and gave us the million dollar tour of the city. It was a low humidity evening and the streets were lively. As cities go, New Orleans is unique in having a very distinct look and culture. It is steeped in history and beautiful architecture; that is a given. But the people themselves are a cohesive population, bonded by their love of the city itself, by surviving Katrina, and of course, LSU and Saints football. Its probably the most racially integrated city I know as well, with everybody in the restaurants and clubs eating, drinking and partying their asses off to great music everywhere you looked. I like New Orleans, always have. It's livable. Walkable. And the best thing is, it has an identity. It has grit (literally). Its a little dirty but combined with lush sub tropical foliage and fragrant blooming flowers it works. It doesnt look like the generic american city dotted with chains and strip malls. (Im sure there are areas like that -but I didnt see them and prefer to remain ignorant of them)

We had a great meal at Jacques-imos cafe where I had another glass of Cazadores and pan fried drum which was delicious. It was fun to be with an old friend and his lady, to see how well he turned out and to be with somebody who knew how to show some out-of-towners a good time. After dinner we headed to his side of town, "the bywater" where we went to his office aboard a massive ship anchored in the Mighty Mississip'.

looking at the city of New Orleans from the ship

Later we saw a great performance by Kermit Ruffins at local dive-ish bar, Vaughns. He was an excellent performer but he kind of got famous for driving around a cadillac retro fitted with a grill so he could cook barbeque between sets. There were a lot of Mad Men looking chicks in the club: vintage dresses, cat eye glasses and pearls. The men looked scruffy. I tried to take an iphone movie of the band but wondered who in the hell was in the picture when the man standing behind me said "wait! that's me". grrrrrherhahahha. *a cazadores moment* Damn iphone I couldnt figure out how to turn the camera the other way and never got the video but had a grand time. We went home on the early side which of course is what old-married-middle-aged-overstuffed-intoxicated-whitebread-people want.

The next day we had breakfast at the famous Cafe du Monde for a sugar rush of beignets and coffee with guess what? Chicory! I snapped some hard working city birds while we packed on the pounds:

Just a few hours later we were stuffing our faces again with barbeque shrimp at Mister B's. I give that dish a solid 10. It's so messy, they tie a bib on you before they bring it out. When we raved the server brought out a cookbook with the recipe. Only 3 sticks of butter for a two person serving! When you finish eating, instead of mints, they bring out pipe cleaners so you can ream out your arteries and heart valves. ;-)

We drove to Baton Rouge. I was entertained by the ever changing sky. The clouds were the kind you only see over flat land with lots of water. It was like the clouds over Okeechobee Florida; high rising cumulus clouds sure to form thunderheads by afternoon. You do not see this in the north georgia mountains. Ever.

We arrived at Uncle Tommy's and took a tour of the massive LSU campus. I spent a lot of time watching him; desperate to see some sort of family resemblance to my mom. Now and then there would be a little expression that would remind me of her. Mostly, they talk alike, both having expansive vocabularies and a unique sense of humor. Tom is funny because in this mega Catholic family, he is the president of the Southeast Louisiana Freethinkers Society, an atheist group. He is a lot of fun and I adore my aunt as well. I saw my favorite cousin and the other ones I haven't seen in decades. I know my Mom was pleased.

Saturday is all about college football. Festivities began promptly at 7:30 a.m. (A.M.!) for a game that was to start at 7 pm. The day was an unhurried journey of drinking and football with a parade of friends and family coming and going. The afternoon was spent preparing lebanese food -kibby and stuffed grapeleaves. We ate then settled in for the big game. The entire living room is set up to watch football on a massive 83" screen with no couches just lots of individual swivel chairs. It was cool but it was all day. When I realized it would be the same on Sunday for the Saints game, I got on the internet and booked a tour of the Atchafalaya Swamp. When I informed V that we were going to the swamp, he smirked and snorted, which means "not interested". I said, "that's cool. You can hang out and watch the Saints game tomorrow, but I must have nature or I will die!" So we went to the swamp. Here's some photos:

The tour was 3 hours of looking for birds and enjoying the landscape. Our guide was a good-looking cajun guy who talked literally all three hours. But I liked him. He found a nest of baby alligators and caught one for us to meet. I felt a little guilty about it. He kept crying out for "mama" with that muffled little sound from down in his throat, but he was returned to the water after a few minutes and he rejoined his family. The cajun loved the swamp and its creatures and had spent his life exploring it. He did a nice job of keeping it fresh and exciting even though I knew he had done this trip a million times.

We saw Ibis, Egrets, Herons and Hawks, but not as many birds as you would see in the spring, many of them have migrated on. We did see plenty of snakes and turtles though.

The best thing about the trip though was seeing my Mom again in the landscape; or remembering her when I would smell green decay in water, highlighted with a hint of sea salt. It was me and her against the world for five years in southern mississippi while she went to grad school and I slogged it out in high school. Now I am back at Chickory on the first round of cold evenings. Last night the low was 37.
I just checked the thermometer, it read 40, so I decided that was cold enough to go out and turn the heat lamp on for the chicks. When I checked on them, I discovered a baby possum in the coop! Guess I know what tomorrow's first chore will be.

But for now, I am content under a crisp starry night and low-hanging half moon, looking forward to another day in the country in the best month of the year.