Diversion Back in Summer

A patch of overgrown foliage in an otherwise neatly kept neighborhood.

I lowered my own iphone and turned my head to see Seth snapping a picture of me.  I appear more serious than I felt.

Irresistible

Little roof tiled acorns and feathered dog paws.  When the wind picks up, I hold the acorns still with my finger.  Merely a breeze makes them shutter, sometimes roll off my table.  I feel a similar pang as when glass ornaments fall.

I meant to write a letter today, but I managed only a sketch.  

Roadside Whist

How It Ended Up

Perhaps one or two of you who follow In Distant Woods might specifically recall the post "My Desk" from April, in which I vented about my abundance of un-resolved projects and scattered ideas.  I wish I could describe just a few of my twenty five terribly ridiculous ideas, but I might return to my sketchbooks and actually create them one day.  So, did I pull everything together within those four days before the Opening Reception of the Houghton Senior Art Exhibtion?

Well, I made this.

My biology teacher kindly allowed me to borrow entomology cases, pins, and specimen jars, which I joyfully used.  The piece above was titled "Gary's House" (recall "Heated Situation" posted in April). 

An ode to the little linocut house who was lost in the carpet and never displayed for the show.

"Don't Mansion It"

Bird in a specimen jar entitled "Dwelling."

Above is a close-up of "Prints" before I added the toad and coupled it together with "In Dew Course" inside a vintage frame.  (etching, linocut, watercolor, coffee)

Detail of "Wrestless Nocean."  (coffee, charcoal, linocut)

Cheers to Seth for making beautiful cards to rest happily in this vintage dish, itself settled on a wonderfully-scratched desk borrowed from an unknown students's loft space.  My mother sanded the desk down a little and carried it over to the gallery on her head.  She also helped immensely with framing and various details, such as cleaning the dead insects and dust from the display cases while I carved my houses.  Josh also deserves my thanks for his helpful deeds.  If you scroll back to the earlier photo of me laughing with friends, he's the guy wearing the vest and staring into the camera like we're the crazy ones.    

I'm grateful for the valuable feedback of my professors and art student family, and to each and every person who took a moment to look at my work and respond to it (whether with words or in silence) with honesty.

Wrapped around the gallery wall.  

Unfortunately I don't have photos of the other artists' works, aside from this curious sculpture Josh carved from soapstone.

 I loved this evening with supportive family and friends, and despite my tiredness I couldn't stop smiling.  (I won't say much regarding the sheer exhaustion and quite nearly napping through the Opening Reception and indeed arriving late.  At least my iphone wasn't playing Sigor Rós out-loud on Pandora like it was the last time I tried to sneak up to a crowd after arriving late to... Well, never mind.  At any rate, I made it!)

A Corny Title

Fascinated by my uncle's cornfield, I made up my mind to explore the field before dinner.  I expected to find all sorts of hidden treasures and planned to get lost in its beauty.

The corn beyond the garden.

Leaving my mother and cousin behind to collect vegetables, I pressed on toward the field, convinced with each step closer that I was about to discover a perfect oasis.

 A few steps later, awkwardly squeezing my way between cornstalks, I found myself with little space, much less air, protuberances clutching and pressing on my neck no matter how I turned, and an overwhelming volume of rustling noise and the color green.  

 I'm still unsure what compelled me to walk deeper than the first row.  I had a earie sense of being cornered, stalked, and like nothing would leaf me alone, all at once.

 A while later, I finally escaped the corn barricade, profoundly grateful to feel the wind blowing and for the ability to run away from a flying insect in any direction I wished.  I wholeheartedly rejoiced the world contains colors other than corn-stalk green... and vegetables other than corn, for that matter.