For a fellow blogger and for the Ragtag Daily Prompt: Still. I am thinking of both stillness and of still photography. A photograph. For a still, I think that it is usually posed. I like taking portraits when people are not posed.
You were an artist
You are an artist
You said that you’d have to live to 120 to finish all your projects
And died at 61
I keep wondering
what the art supplies are like
and if you work on sunsets
made a clay fish last summer that I admire
He said grumpily “It’s too bad Grandma Helen died before I could do clay with her.”
He tells me he’s ready to make raku pots to fire in your ashes as you wished
I ask what he’d make
He considers and says, “What was Grandma Helen’s favorite food?”
I can’t think and say that she liked lots of foods
At the same time wondering squeamishly if maybe
he should make a vase and then being surprised
that I am squeamish and thinking of blood and wine,
too, I wonder if my dad would know. “Maybe guacamole.”
I need to find a potter to apprentice him to.
asks how old Grandma Helen was when she died.
I explain that she died at 61 but her mother died at 92.
Camille asks how old I am.
When are you going to die?
I say I don’t know, none of us do, but I hope it’s more towards 90.
Camille studies me and is satisfied for now.
She goes off.
I think of you.
the Christmas cards you did with us
upon my children.
They each draw a card.
We photocopy them and hand paint with watercolors.
Camille wants to draw an angel
and says she can’t.
I draw a simple angel
and have her trace it.
She has your fierce concentration
bent over tracing through the thick paper
She wants it right.
The angel is transformed.
My kids resist the painting after a few cards as I did too.
Each time I paint the angel
to send to someone I love
I think of Camille
I see you everywhere
January 19, 2002
published in Mama Stew: An Anthology: Reflections and Observations on Mothering, edited by Elisabeth Rotchford Haight and Sylvia Platt c. 2002
For the RDP: another day.
I love the evening polarized light on the trees. This picture is almost abstract. My mother would love the colors.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: timely.
My mother died in 2000 and my father in 2013 and my house is full of art. My mother was a prolific artist and I am working on placing, gifting, cataloging her art. There is rather more than I’d seen. Watercolors and etchings were her most loved, I think, though she did woodcuts, silk screen, oils, pottery and all sorts of crafts.
She did tiny etchings, often 2 by 2 or 2 by 3 inches of fantasy creatures.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: jewel.
I have an amber necklace that belonged to my grandmother. Patrick noticed the insect and took the close up. The necklace is over 60 years old judging by the clasp. But the insect is far older…..
For Norm2.0’s Thursday doors: here.
But the buildings are sideways. And there aren’t many doors. No, that’s true, but it’s because the whole thing is a door:
…a door on a van…with a city scape.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: quaint.
We visited my friend Malene in Wisconsin, and she took us and her grandchildren to Nick Engelbert’s Grandview.
We may think of folk art as quaint or cute, but his art is amazing and on a grand scale. The house, the out building and a yard full of sculpture, all to explore. The house was closed so we did not go inside on this trip, but the outside is wonderous.
This is not the house. It’s just an outbuilding.
These are the arches in front of the house.
And sculptures all through the yard:
This is being restored.
Not just an elephant. It is political commentary.
Complex, humorous and my impression is certainly that this farmer/artist was a joyous worker!
For Norm2.0’s Thursday doors.
Two weeks ago I was visiting family in Dodgeville, Wisconsin. This is an art installation in town and the multitude of doors made me think of Thursday doors! Hoods, too. What day would we choose for hoods? I am afraid that many of the hoods I think of are grim, but these hoods are fine…
For the Daily Prompt: disappear.