Tag Archives: art

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A place for everything

and everything in its place.

I consider putting up a picture of my travel pile. Right now it’s outside the bedroom at my aunt and uncle’s because my daughter is still asleep. But I am still back at the Glenstone Museum: this is an interesting artwork. Does it belong? The paths wind around and we climbed a hill to it.

It grows in the spring. It still has a bit of a winter beard.

I might still be on quirky.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: everything must belong somewhere.

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Winter flowers

On the Solstice, friends took me to the Glenstone Museum. They combine art, architecture and nature. They have planted over 7000 native trees and have planted over 10,000 native grasses. We can photographs inside but not outside. There are winding paths and sculptures and buildings, both big and small. ‘

In one of the museums, there is a walled outdoor installation called Collapse. It is rusting beams in a 16 foot deep hole surrounded by a 16 foot wall. Moss is starting to grow a little as it weathers. Only three people can go out at a time, with a guide. I asked if anyone had sung into the space, since the metal would bounce the sound around. The guide said he did not think so. I sang part of Faure’s Pie Jesu in to it. The guide said that the installation makes him think of the twin towers and he thanked me.

https://www.glenstone.org/art/exhibition/michael-heizer/

For Cee’s Flower of the Day.

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Caught in the act

This is the first time I have managed to photograph one of the cats doing “Cat Art”. Sol Duc. I have two bowls for the cats, with a smaller bowl inside a water barrier bowl. I shut the door between the two when I feed them, because Elwha will eat all his and then bully Sol Duc. He outweighs her by five pounds. When I started limiting their food, they started decorating Elwha’s bowl. With toys. There are often toy mice, that pair of in ear headphones that I’ve given up on, a sponge, tissue paper when they can get it, as many as four different things in the bowls. I have to wash the outer bowl and toys often.

Is this play? It started when Elwha was overweight and I started measuring their food. All of my other cats have been self-regulating about food, but Elwha and Sol Duc were very starved tiny kittens when I got them and Elwha is the first male cat I’ve ever had. Art? Trying to trade toys for more food? I tried reading about it and found that cats will bury their food. Sometimes the art shows up when the bowl is not empty.

This is the first one with tissue paper:

This was the first use of a sponge:

I think this is a particularly fine installation and sophisticated use of tissue paper as well as the toy creature, headphones, and the combination flashlight/whistle.

I hope it is play. It certainly entertains me. I wondered which cat was doing it but I think it is both. It is almost always Elwha’s bowl, though, not Sol Ducs. The mysterious plays of cats.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: play.

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Heroes and Heroines

Another group that I saw at the nowhereelse festival is Ben Sollee. The group was him, his cello, and a drummer. And oh, my gosh, could they fill the tent with music! And he used that cello in all sorts of ways.

So here is his song about heroes and heroines: Cajun Navy.

I like this one too: Infowars.

The photograph is of Helen Burling Ottaway’s small etching, Dolphin.

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Garden tour

On the day my daughter and I explored two Florence gardens, I tripped. I did not knock myself out, nor my teeth, but I scraped both knees a little and bruised both palms.

I fell on gravel. Can you tell? I held lots of pressure on the knees first, and then palms together. Less bruising with pressure because the bleeding stops sooner. I still had these nice gravel prints on the photographs taken the next day. I was looking at the garden and did not see a ridge to divert rain and fell quite hard. I rolled and did not break a wrist, which is nice. After that, my daughter warned me when she thought the ground was rough and I was looking up too much. “No texting while walking, mom.”

The cobblestones could be rough too.

And this garden sculpture is not watching his feet either.

This one might not need to, since he looks like he’ll be airborne.

Happily, I did not fall down any steps nor with my big pack on.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: explore.

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Fashions

I did not sort out Italian fashions in the two weeks I traveled with my daughter.

For one thing, we were mostly in tourist areas. It was hot, though not as hot as August. Very thin straps on tops and short shorts or skirts were to be covered to go in to the big churches and the Vatican Museum. Having to cover up is just a little ironic since so many of the sculptures are nude or partly nude, both male and female.

I took a black skirt and a pair of pants that are loose and flowered and cool. These proved to be very good guesses for my age group. I had washable travel button down shirts, which worked well. I never used my fleece jacket or rain jacket, on this trip. My feet complained and I might choose different shoes next time.

One recurring theme that I noticed is leopard prints. Dresses, skirts, shirts, blouses. I saw them in each of the five cities. There also is a recurrence of rompers. My daughter comments, “There are very few people that look good in rompers but mostly people don’t.” I didn’t like them in the 1970s and I don’t like them now. We did see a very few either tall or thin or both women who carried them off.

Tourist wear is all over the place but mostly is driven by the heat. Hats were for sale to tourists and large scarves to double as a skirt to cover short shorts or skirts.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: unclear.

This website seems to think leopard prints were in this year. I really do not know. Do you?

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Supplies

When my (now ex) husband and I were first married, we bought two gold chains. I was just starting medical school. Third year we hit the wards. This meant that I was often running around the hospital wearing scrubs, rings off. I wanted a chain to put my wedding ring on. Some people tied them to their scrub pants, but they can get lost.

I go home from Richmond, Virginia to Alexandria. We show the chains to my parents, both used ones, but gold.

My sister reports to me later. “Our mom said, why are they buying gold chains? That’s dumb. They don’t have any money!”

“Maybe they want them,” says my sister.

“Well, I think it’s a waste.”

“You bought more paper the other day.”

“Oh. Hmmm, yes I did.”

“You aren’t using that paper yet and you have an entire vault of paper.”

“Yes, but I am an artist. I need supplies.”

“Katy wants the chain for work to put her ring on. How is that different?”

“Oh, well. Maybe you’re right.”

I am very pleased that my sister defends me but it also was very funny. My mother had a stack with one by ones with thin 24 by 30 boards, on them, stacked five feet high to put paper in. Cheap shelves, though it would be totally unstable in an earthquake. She bought paper that she loved and used it too. She did watercolors, etchings, carried a sketchbook everywhere, oils, scorned acrylics, woodblocks, clay, colored pencils, chalk pastels, oil pastels and then she loved crafts as well. She was a master of paper mache. Artists need supplies, but everyone has something like that. My daughter did not get the pack rat gene and is a minimalist, but even she has some things she really likes. Real stationary, for one.

I wore that chain for more than 14 years. We were divorced at 14 years but are still good friends. My ex went on the nursing school and has been a Covid-19 hero, much to some people’s surprise.

My mother was inconsistent, as we all are. She prided herself on being frugal and not spending money, but when it came to art supplies, she wanted them. She still could be frugal but she certainly had the supplies and she would stock up when beautiful paper was on sale! And pencils and pastels and watercolors and oils. My father would quote Ralph Waldo Emerson, “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.” Both he and my mother would call each other out when one was being inconsistent. They could be very very funny.

The lead photograph is from winter 1991-92. Mark Warren Wilson, Helen Burling Ottaway, Christine Robbins Ottaway, me and Malcolm Kenyon Ottaway. Taken by Joel F., my sister’s first husband, with my camera. This next was taken by my father and there is Joel F. We went to Colorado and all stayed in a condo and skiied. My father found out that he really did not like heights, either driving or the ski lifts. Joel and Mark staged a pretend dramatic argument making fun of Chris and my arguments, and they were right on. We were quite embarassed and annoyed, but not instantly cured. And the skiing was delightful.

My mother, father and sister have all died. I do miss them. Hugs for all the recent losses of people.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: inconsistent.

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Painterly

Two evenings ago we were waiting for dark for a kayak tour. The sky was painterly, with clouds that look like the old masters, shades of white and pink and grey. It was gorgeous color in the reddening light as the sun set.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: color/colour.