what I saw today

So delicate, it is disappearing even as I draw.
I am intending to make a watercolor painting of this little jonquil, (daffodil?narcissus?).
 I worry that I will destroy this fragile delicacy if I breath on it too much.
I scanned this line art just to preserve the immediate moment.

Hibiscus twins

Off to a great start today. I had two lovely blossoms remaining on my summer plant. Around here these are just annual flowers and since we are rapidly moving through October, these will only be around for another day or so.

I drew these from life this morning, just my favorite way to work. Celebrating the line, the lovely line.

under the weight of the September sky

That bright and intensely deep blue September sky, so ominous, so heavy with promise.
The brisk tingle of cold weather to come bends the heads of the flowers.

I bought some tiny plants at the hardware store last May. They only had a leaf or two each, but they were labeled "Moulin Rouge Sunflower". That was enough promise for me, I could hardly wait to see what they would look like.

The first blooms took me aback. They were black sunflowers, black center and black petals with just a hint of dark red. Now, at the end of summer, I am finding some blooms with a lot more of the dark red and a tiny gasp of gold.

a summer rose

Another watercolor pencil sketch from my traveling notebook. I picked this rose from the garden of our friends and drew while they were preparing us a lovely dinner. I was so incredibly blessed (and really a bit spoiled). Good friends, good food, interesting conversation in two languages, some nice wine, and ...roses.

drawing

Now the green blade riseth

Now the green blade riseth from the buried grain,
Wheat that in the dark earth many days has lain;
Love lives again, that with the dead has been:
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.


In the grave they laid him, Love whom hate had slain,
Thinking that never would he wake again,
Laid in the earth like grain that sleeps unseen:
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.


Forth he came at Easter, like the risen grain,
He that for three days in the grave had lain,
Quick from the dead my risen Lord is seen:
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.


When our hearts are wintry, grieving, or in pain,
Thy touch can call us back to life again,
Fields of our hearts that dead and bare have been:
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.


  Medieval French Carol

Summer is Over

Is Summer already over and gone? This is the last of these Rose of Sharon from life then.

I post this painting to the memory of Rosasharn Joad.

stand and stare

What is this life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.

-from "Leisure," by W.H. Davies 1911

wildflowers in Colorado

I spent the month of June in one of the most beautiful parts of Colorado, the Pikes Peak region.

This has been a good year for wildflowers, lots of rain and sunshine. A good flower summer in the mountains means you should expect the rain to come every afternoon, sometimes with hail and a black storm, followed by a rainbow and more bright sun until late in the day.

I found these bright purple and blue flowers growing wild in the front yard of my Mom and Dad's home high in the mountains. One month ago, my Dad died in his home while I was there and surrounded by my family. Every drawing I do these days is tinged with the sadness and thoughts I have of love and loss.

I wrote in my last posts about the difference between drawing from a photo or drawing from a live model. I realize now that my writing was much more about the death of my father than about the fading of a live flower that I was planning to paint.

Acrylic and colored pencils 14"x11" experimental, click on the image to see it larger