Gallery Night

Friday night is "Gallery Night" in Ithaca. All of the galleries in Ithaca have their openings on the same night. This happens four times a year, but the December event is the most festive. Besides walking around from gallery to gallery there is an Ice Sculpture show on the Ithaca Commons. And all the holiday lights are lit as well.
Last year was my first one-man show “Rorshach-Mandalla”. This year I have a piece that was accepted in the State of the Art Gallery Regional Juried Competition. The piece is titled “Wind Dancer” and is shown above.
I am looking forward to festivities.

The Crows of November

For some reason I always notice the crows in November. Of course, they are around all year, but somehow their gatherings are more noticeable in the bleak barren trees of late fall. Maybe they are more obvious, reeling and cawing against the gray sky. Or maybe their chattering and varied vocalizations are easier to hear without the muting of dense tree leaves.
I have always been fascinated by crows. They are remarkably intelligent and their social behaviors are complex and often human-like. Thus they play a significant role in the culture and mythology of peoples worldwide, from bearers of omens to minor gods.
Recently, ravens have moved onto our hilltop as well. These are much larger and more impressive than the crows. They are also very intelligent, maybe more so than the crows,(and hold a higher status in cultural myth.) It will be interesting to observe how the ravens and crows get along in the coming years.
A few weeks ago I was walking along the road when I heard a loud beating swoosh coming up from behind me. I cringed, as if a giant pterodactyl was about to carry me off. But looking up, I saw two huge ravens flying a few feet overhead. The pair was wingtip-to-wingtip as they flew purposefully down the road. It was quite a sight to see, and well worth the start.
I have been sketching and photographing crows and ravens, and expect them to appear on future works.

Fuzzball and the Night Sky

I have always been fascinated with the night sky. On the hilltop, a clear night brings out a vast sparkling sky of countless stars. Long ago I memorized the major constellations and the brightest stars. I have followed the seasons in the sky for many years and find their familiar patterns give a sense of comfort and order. But occasionally something interesting happens and disturbs that order.
The past few weeks a comet has appeared and is currently in the constellation Perseus. The comet is named Holmes. It unexpectedly brightened significantly and can now be seen with the naked eye. It looks like a glowing fuzzball rather than the typical comet. This is because the tail is pointing directly away from the earth and can’t be seen behind the comet.
People used to think that comets were omens that brought great disruptions and change. When that was pointed out to an astronomer during a radio interview, he responded with tongue-in–cheek cynicism, “it’s just an icy dirtball and doesn’t care about us.” Still, it is an object of awe and inspiration.
And as an inspiration, I have included the night sky in several of my works, including my most recent. I hope to post that on my website soon.

Autumn already

O.K. So it’s not like I didn’t know it’s Fall. The equinox came and went. Then there was an amazing full Harvest moon rise over the hills of southern California (immediately after witnessing my first green flash on a Pacific sunset.) Part of a trip to the West Coast for a wonderful family wedding on the Queen Mary. And fun touristy things such as going to the amazing Getty Center, and exploring the L.A. basin’s beach towns.
I’ve been away from my blog for a while. And away from my art. And it wasn’t just the travel. There was a long period of unusually warm weather (including several record breaking days of August-like heat. Maybe I just convinced myself that it was still summer.
But a couple of days ago I was walking through the woods, listening to the distant rumble of thunder. Suddenly a strong wind came up and the sky turned a dark black-purple. As the treetops thrashed back and forth I decided to scamper back up the hill. I thought I was going to get soaked, but what sounded like rain turned out to be millions of small yellow leaves falling. The air was instantly filled with swirling color that was dazzling and disorienting at the same time. But no time to linger. Bright flashes and the loud crack-boom of nearby lightning spurred me on. I barely reached the shelter of my porch as the first drops began to hit.
I spent quite a while sitting on my porch watching the heavy rains falling and illuminated by frequent lightning. Thunderstorm watching is one of my favorite pastimes (as long as it’s from a dry, cozy vantage). The sticky afternoon heat was quickly swept away by the cool air. The quality and texture of the rain was not the heavy drops of a summer storm, but the dense fine drops of a fall rain that seemed to saturate the air. I knew that it was finally autumn with the arrival of this cold front.
Sure enough, this week will average 30-40 degrees cooler than last. Flocks of geese have been heading south. The woods are filled with russets, crimsons and gold. A time of change, and I need to do so myself, seeking my muse.

Ah, summer

These days summer seems to go by in a flash. There never seems enough time to savor the season and this year was no exception. But after the Artist's Market there was a little time to relax.
The gardens were spectacular, especially the daylilies. Abundant rain and sunshine made everything thrive despite my neglect.
And then there was a marvelous week on the beach. No full moon over the ocean this year (although late night revealed a waning last quarter shimmering over the water.) But there were clear nights filled with stars and an excellent view of the Milky Way. Jupiter, like a jewel, still above Scorpio.(All the more lovely, reflected in the ocean.} One night the Perseids put on a marvelous show.
The days were spent on long walks, and swimming in the ocean every day. There were many opportunities to photograph trees and flowers to use in my collages. The weather was mostly lovely (though a couple of spectacular storms made things exciting). I love living in the hills of the Finger Lakes, but the ocean is a special, soul-soothing place for me.
Home now, with a bit of summer left, my thoughts turn again to art. There are no deadlines to spur me into production so it will be a time to explore new directions.

Ithaca Artist's Market

Long exhausting day. (Exhausting week actually).
But lots of fun. Watching peoples faces light up as they walked into my booth was very gratifying. Listening to people comment on and compliment my art all day was worth all the effort.
It was my first time at the Ithaca Artist's Market and quite an experience. I even sold enough art to want to do it again. And considering the competition I think I did reasonably well. Ithaca is a small community with a large number of very talented artists.
All week the forecast for Sunday was rain. But the day started off with mixed clouds and sun, and got even more sunny as the day went on. The market was festive and crowded.
At the end of the day I could barely move. I sat on my porch watching the light fade. My daylilies seemed to glow in the twilight along with the occasional firefly. And when the Full Buck Moon rose I knew it had been a good day.

Grassroots

Four days of music. I've been going to the Grassroots Festival for the past 10 years.
Almost didn't go this year. After all, the Ithaca Artist's Market is next weekend, and I should have spent this weekend getting ready. But few things nourish the soul (and excite the muse) like music. So I'm four days behind where I should be. And still smiling.
Thursday night the evening sky was suddenly filled with lightning and torrential rain. (fortunately I was cozy under the dance tent listening to Cajun music). It looked like the festival was going to be a wet, soupy mud-fest. But the next three days brought the most amazing sunshine and blue sky, and things quickly dried out.
And oh, those nights! Early evening the crescent moon hung in the western sky. When it finally set the crystal sky was ablaze with a million stars. Jupiter sat atop Scorpio, and its brilliance made the constellation seem strange and familiar at the same time.
All the while music drifted sweetly in the night air. When I finally dragged myself away and headed home I noticed the Pleiades climbing into the sky, and I knew it was well past my bedtime.