It was a beautiful scene as we opened the South pasture up for grazing, a key date in our calendar and the life of the farm. I’m off to the Mansion for my memory class but I wanted to share the beautiful images first.
It was beautiful seeing the sun rise and the happy sheep and donkeys eat on fresh grass.
A beautiful way to start the day.
I went out to check on the donkeys and saw this beautiful sky. I said I was done today but had to take this photograph. Good night, sleep well.
I only paid a little attention to flowers a few years ago. Now, I’m caught up in the curious and intense belief that flowers have a soul, and my goal in photography is to try to capture it. It keeps me focused and searching.
Here are six photographs that try to capture the souls of flowers. Could you come and see? I’m signing off after this; I’ve got some reading to do.
I look forward to seeing you in the morning. It was a charming day, and I gave thanks all day for my life and time in this world with Maria. Have a soft and meaningful night.
In my photography, I’m always thinking about the soul of a flower and searching for it.
In my work, I’ve thought that flowers are more beautiful in the company of other flowers, that they sense one another and help one another through their short lives. These photos are meant to capture the community of flowers.
My best work is always in the face of the sun. The sunlights flow up and show their spirit and, yes, their soul.
I got these Spray Roses this morning; they have a particular beauty and rich color.
This flower has a deep soul with many levels and layers—an excellent flower to meditate around.
I had a ton of work to do today, from working at the food pantry and taking pictures there and then working hard to photograph a new and different arrangement of flowers and light; I call it “Do You Believe Flowers Have A Soul? I do.” I loved the work, but it requires a lot of focus and is sometimes hard to see in a bright sun. I thought it came out well.
I’m putting those photos up next.
The sun was out, and it was a warm day with a soft wind. My photography was all outside today, and I worked on and off a table on the back porch and into the garden bed, where I put flowers in the daytime only to catch the sun. Nights can still be frosty.
Zip comes alongside now, and we work together; I talk to him, stroke him, and he sits alongside me. I’ve always worked alone. Inside, Zinnia is always with me when I work.
When I take a break, he hops into my lap and often scoots off to pursue something he saw, the murderous friend that he is. I took this selfie during the rest period—he takes a nap, and I sleep for five or ten minutes, and so does he.
Then he goes off on his work, and I do mine. I admit I love having him around; we seem to be in sync, and he leaves me alone when I’m working. When I stop, he hops up for some attention.
While I’m busy, he watches me, at one point peering out from the wicker chair.
He loves to nap in the warm sun but stays close. When I move, he moves.
It was a beautiful day, and when the photography was done – I concentrated on it and didn’t want to be distracted – he hopped up on my chair and sat on the arm, keeping me company. His head turned when an Amish cart came into the driveway; Barbara, one of the Miller daughters, was driving; she was asking me to get some dog food for Tina, their dog, and my friend I love.
We chatted with her for a while; she is sweet and kind, but Zip vanished into the barn when he saw the horse. We had a lovely few hours together. In nice weather, this is becoming a tradition I value.
Maria calls these pieces Fabric Paintings, but I think of them as Wall Hangings. They are neither pot holders nor quilts, but they have a beautiful space in the middle.
On Fridays, if she’s in a good mood, I’m invited into her studio to see how some new work is progressing. She never speaks of a work in progress to me or anyone else; I have yet to learn what it is until I walk into the studio.
Maria is very humble about her work, which is appealing.
She’s never done with it until she feels she’s done. I love the simplicity of this work, just as it is, but it’s not up to me, and I don’t ever suggest changes in her work. We both keep a real boundary around our work.
But usually, when she shows me something, she isn’t looking for my opinion; she’s just starting to like it herself. She’s very self-contained; she doesn’t need other people’s views to like something. She works very much alone and in her own head.
I’m certainly not unbiased, but one of the things I especially love about Maria’s work is that it speaks for itself. It has a lot to say without saying it or beating anyone over the head. It always has something to say to me and a lot of meaning, this one especially.
This work still needs to be finished, she says. She’s working on the bird and other things. It’s a remarkable piece for its simplicity and power. And the tree is amazing; it took a long time.
She will probably be done with it sometime early next week. She is still deciding what she will charge for it or call it. If you have any questions, you can e-mail her at [email protected] or check on its progress on her blog, fullmoonfiberart.com.
