24 August 2020

It's tough to re-learn


It's been years since I've had the time (or interest) to return to digital photography and embellish / alter, etc.  I used to play for hours, layering images and text and textures in order to achieve "the right look".  But lately I've found I like the somewhat blurred, vintage look -- soft, ethereal.

I've always admired the work of Kim Klaussen and Jill Ferry of Flypaper Textures, but recently found the work of Denise Love in a copy of Bella Grace.  So today with the temperatures once again soaring into the 90s and high humidity, I retreated to my artsy "Bat Cave" to play a few hours before going to work.

Small blossoms are often lovely -- their simplicity compelling.  This is a shot I took several springs ago during one of my morning walks (no, not a power walk; more like a wandering meander!).  I layered several textures on the original image, including some text, then worked a Gaussian Blur and lowered the saturation a few times.

And then my software crapped out and the image was compromised -- just a weird wiry image like a dying TV screen!  WTF?!?   Deep breath, Kelly.  Start again.  And amazingly, I like this image better than the one before.  Goes to show that patience is a virture, uh?  

This image is now available on my Red Bubble account, if you're interested in notecards and such.  I still have so much to do to organize my little corner of RB -- create "collections" for easier searching, etc.  But I'll get there eventually.


And on another entirely different subject -- but still creative! -- I dug out my old tabletop loom this morning, dusted it off and polished it up.  Another project I intend to re-visit this autumn.  I'm loving the wall hangings I keep seeing in the Scandi magazines and sites.  

How about you?  What are you up to as the summer winds down and we're still somewhat constricted with the pandemic?  


Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places where other people see nothing.

Camille Pissarro

17 August 2020

Slow Seasonal Shift

Black & White Study


 Every year about this time, I can feel a slow shift in the air -- the humidity drops, the light breezes are a bit chilly in the morning or evening, and there's a distinct clarity to the light.  It tells me that summer is nearing its end.  That soon the bright blooms will fade and droop, that one will need to fetch a sweater if intending to sit outside after sundown.  I usually find myself hankering for the subtle colors of autumn around now.  We've had more than three weeks of 90+ degree heat and stifling humidity, the kind that makes you not want to move an inch because you'll be drenched in sweat if you do move. 

But 2020 is proving to be my breaking point.  First, the pandemic hit and changed our lives in so many ways it makes my head spin to think about it.  And then the worst tragedy of all -- our son passed away in June.  He had just turned 30.  I'm not going into details.  Let me just say that my family is only now keeping our emotional heads above water.  We stay close.  We talk and cry together.  We eat together.  That's the best we can do at this point.  I don't believe the pain will ever truly go away.  It may lessen, but it will always be there.  

And so I need to keep my hands busy -- gardening, cooking, painting, crafting.  I need to put words and thoughts somewhere other than inside my head, which often feels like it's ready to explode. This is also making me re-evaluate how I want to live my life, how I want to move through my days in the coming months and years.  I want to be busy but at a slower pace than usual.  I want to take time each day to celebrate life and those I love.  I want a greater degree of simplicity.  

Not easy to achieve . . . I have so much to re-learn, so much to adjust.  I dread the holidays and winter, but am determined to embrace it.  I'm sure I'm not alone in this.  That many others have experienced loss and grief.  Yes, life goes on but, for me, I'll approach it with varying degrees of hope, frustration, joy and sorrow.  


Kelly M.

25 May 2020

Tulip Crazy!

I confess . . . this spring I became a little bit crazy for tulips.  I don't mean just buying them by the pot load, but taking shots of them.  Every morning it became a ritual -- a few cups of java to get me going and then I was dragging these little puppies into the family room where we get incredible light streaming in from the southeast.  

 I tried catching them at all stages -- when tightly budded to fully open and onto the blowsy stage when the petals are about to fall off.

And that didn't include the obsession with color -- oh, my . . . !   From softest pinks to cherry red to cha-cha orange and finally to the ultimate yellow.  

What more can I say?  Like I said -- just plain tulip crazy.  And now there's not a trace of them in the garden at this time.  The bulbs slumber under the soil, waiting for the time to rejoin us next spring.

Oh sure, I'll probably browse the flower shops to see if there are any available, but that wouldn't be the same as, after a long New England winter, you find the first ones peeping up at you amid the melting snow and mud.  

These images are available at my online shop, Red Bubble.  From greeting cards to journals and notebooks, clothing, travel mugs and more, add something lovely to your life.  Because right now, we deserve a bit of lovely in our lives, don't you think?

Hoping you're all healthy and staying in fine fettle!