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

Is it truly Spring?

These are dismal times for so many of us around the world, and our hearts are aching for those who've lost their life and for their families and friends.  And yet Nature continues and evidence of spring abounds, even up here in New England despite a snowfall yesterday.  

Tulips #1 by me

Forced to stay home from work, I'm finding that so much of what I've pushed aside over the past years is now calling to me, tapping at my feeble, frenzied brain, reminding me that creativity and the need to express oneself never truly disappears.  It may fade into the background of our 21st century lives; it may be packed away at the back of a desk, waiting patiently for us to re-discover all over again.  

Tulip #2 by me

I'm going to take this enforced time to rediscover the joy of creating, even if it's something small and simple.  I've been culling through my photographs from the garden and feeling that a backyard garden can be a wondrous place.  I've been unwrapping paints and markers and pastels, lugging out canvases and sketchbooks, dusting off paint brushes and tossing out those that were welded together in neglect.  I just spent the last hour or so updating my blog (my art website was hacked last fall and I lost that, plus the email address attached to it!), posting a new banner that makes me smile.

Spring is a time for a new beginning.  It's as simple as that.  I hope you all stay safe and healthy in these coming weeks, months.  I intend to stop by your blogs -- if they're still alive! -- and revisit many of you.  And I hope I gain some new fellow bloggers, or Instagrammers, or FB friends. 

Spring Tulips 3 by me

Happy October!

Gosh, it's been so long since I've posted on my poor blog, I'm ashamed to admit it!  And yet life has a way of distracting one from all the ideas you had planned, the projects that you want to tackle -- and before you know it -- poof! -- weeks, months have gone by.

But October is one of my favorite months, as is Autumn in general. I love the summer and being able to move around without coats and boots, but at some point all the heat and brilliant colors become overwhelming, and one ends up waiting for a chilled breeze, the scent of fallen leaves scuffling underfoot.

Combing through my photos from when I started this blog back in 2007 or '08, I found some season-appropriate images that I thought I'd share.  I do have new ones, but like many of us these days, they're lodged in my cellphone -- someday I'll download them and play around with them.

I hope you're all enjoying the fall season so far, although many areas have been hit by such horrific disasters, those from Nature and those from our fellow humans.  But even a moment to find that hidden last blossom of a rose or a spray of little helicopter pods turning the most amazing array of hues should be a moment to relish!

 I'll try to be more diligent about posting. When I read back on my entries, it was a great reminder of how much the journaling helped with so many aspects of the creative life -- and how many wonderful friends I made over the years!

"I'm so glad I live in a world

where there are Octobers."

L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

Ode to summer

Summer 2015 has slipped away, almost overnight it seems. Two weeks ago we had 90 degree temperatures, but today it's about 48 degrees with winds and rain.

The good thing about this weather is that it forces one inside, something I haven't done in awhile. Every free moment when not working I was out in the garden or walking or on the deck. Working in an office 40+ hours a week does that to one. 

So on this rainy day I've been sorting through the photos I snapped throughout the summer weeks and revisited Photoshop while waiting for the laundry to finish. How exciting is that? Later today I'll throw a log or two on the fire and pull out my yarns and begin to sort out projects for the winter. 

Here are a few of my favorite shots from the garden -- I hope you enjoy!

hosta leaf

quiet

petals at dusk

vintage blossom

Return from the Cape

What is it about a vacation at the Cape that re-charges the creative juices once again? Is it the sunlight, the hot lazy afternoons? Perhaps it's the salt air and swimming in the ocean that cleanses the mind? 

Cape Beach

These are just a few shots from the Cape, which I love to fiddle with, digitally altering them to make them appear 'vintage-y' --  like some old photos you'd find stashed away in albums that your grandparents (or great-grandparents) had at one time --

Wynchmere Harbor, Harwich, MA

the ones where no one can recall who took the picture or when --  

View of Provincetown Harbor

That's something that bothers me about digital cameras -- it's so very ephemeral.  At least in the 'old' days, people had their photos printed, as it was the only way.  Now, how often do we actually print out the shots we've taken with our digital cameras and phones?  

Sure, we load them up onto our computers and then onto our blogs, tumblr, pinterest, instagram -- but then what?  What if the platforms and technologies change?  Does anyone backup their pics? 

Garden Lion, Provincetown

Ah, well . . . don't mind me.  I'm just griping, as I know that I'm as guilty as the next person.  I have good intentions, but they often go by the wayside with the excuse, "I'll wait for a rainy day . . . "  And then I move onto something else: work, taking care of the gardens, etc.  

This last image -- Garden Lion -- is a favorite.  I found him poking up from behind a mass of shrubs and flowers in a garden in Provincetown.  So very exotic, don't you think?  

Star Magnolia

"Magnolia Light" by Kelly M.

long time coming --

pale stars of magnolia

erase all memory

of winter --

A simple wish

Happy Thanksgiving to all

Nothing going right? Go left!

Taking a break from painting. Taking a break from writing. Well, let's face -- I'm just taking a break from lots of things! The family gathering is over for the holidays; a great time was had by all. Today is quiet and the weather is changeable -- cloudy and cool, then the sun comes out and the humidity rockets. But I'm not complaining after the long winter and cold spring we've had here in New England.

I returned to my interest in digital photography and, more specifically, digital scrapbooking. I've been reading back issues of Digital Studio, as well as the current copy, and am intrigued by many of the digital artists and their works. I've tried this before but was always in a bit of a rush, so my attempts usually went bust. Also, although I have Photoshop Elements, I'm used to my old Jasc Paintshop. Not as powerful but it's a question of comfort. Someday I'll transition over.

With this image I was trying to work with my photos of flowers and was hoping to achieve a kind of mosaic effect that Donna Goar creates, which are awesome, but ran out of time. Still, I'm quite happy that I got this far -- at least for today.  The plumes and scrolls are from Anna Aspnes, a custom brush I created (compass), and a paraphrase from Georgia O'Keeffe.

When we try new things, there's always a learning curve; sometimes the curve is steeper than another.  And then my concern is, especially with digital images, that they are truly ephemeral, likely to disappear into cyberspace if we're not careful.  I think images like the one above would make a wonderful note card to send to someone you know who loves flowers and gardens -- and who does take the time to see a flower. 

*   *   *

When in the fresh mornings I go into my garden before anyone is awake,
I go for the time being into perfect happiness.

Celia Thaxter (1835 - 1894)

On the cusp of two seasons

Today is the first day of autumn. A welcome change but a bittersweet moment as I gaze at my garden and see the blooms fading, drooping, dropping. 

But at the same time the skies are that clear, bright cobalt blue and the air is crisp. Above the leaves are shifting to gold and amber, ruby red and wine. So odd, standing on the cusp of two seasons.

Images from earlier in the spring and summer, sweet momentoes -- 

Anna Magnolia

Azaleas

 

-- and my favorite of all flowers, the rose -- 

Last Roses

Two Roses

How Heat Influences

Sometimes it's just a heck of a lot of fun to play with an image in a program like Photoshop or Corel Paint and see what happens. I did this image back a few weeks ago during the heat wave we had, some days hitting almost 100 degrees -- much too hot to venture outside, even in the shade until the sun sank below the treeline. Even then the air was still and thick with heat and humidity, and the buzz of cicadas was almost deafening at times.

I took this shot back in the spring around Easter (you can tell by the potted tulips), but by the time I finished altering it, I was having thoughts of Florida with these hot "Miami" colors and hues -- thus born: Floridian Sensibilities! 

It's funny -- a few years back in blogland there used to be more challenges around where you could participate in the conjuring of a new idea or image. But I don't see those much anymore. Maybe it's me, as I'm not out trolling around as much as I used to. Well --- enough goofing off. I should be doing something a bit more constructive, or at least that's what my left brain is telling me. But it's August, and I think goofing around in these final weeks of summer should be permitted, don't you? 

 I hope to make pictures like I walk -- under a spell, an instinct of motion,

a kind of knowing that is essentially indirect and sideways.

Ellen Meloy, Anthropology of Turquoise

Recalling cooler times

Sweet Magnolia Morning
photograph by artist

 early spring

the air lifts and swells

with the scent of newly-opened

blossoms . . . 

earlier springs

lace one's thoughts

with slender threads of memory

Digital Playtime

A Quiet Corner

Taking time off from gardening -- 4 glorious days of beautiful weather, sun, balmy breezes, raking, transplanting, sowing seeds, potting up flowers for the deck and front entrance -- these are the moments one waits for all winter as the snow and ice keep us somewhat trapped inside!

So, this afternoon, while waiting for laundry to finish and paying bills online (ugh), I pulled up some pics from my phone, played with some vintage textures and historical scripts.  This shot was actually taken at a hotel one morning while having my morning coffee.  I had been making notes to myself about something or other; the hydrangeas I had "stole" from the hotel garden the night before.  The light was perfect, so 'snap' went the phone. 

If I ever resurrect my writing blog on Wordpress, I will probably use this as my banner because, no matter how convenient the computer is for writing, there is something much more satisfying about writing with a pen or pencil on paper. 

And certainly there is the wonderful art of letter writing, which many of us have forgotten.  When was the last time you received a hand-written letter, not just a card or postcard?   I can't even recall, probably years . . . sigh.

Digital Collages for an Autumn Afternoon

Playing with a new computer, struggling with learning curves, new software, etc. Time is a bit short, need to get outside before the sun sinks too low . . . hate this late autumn/early winter adjustment.  It's somewhat disorienting, making one feel robbed of the day.

Seems as if there isn't enough time to paint, so this is the next best thing -- digital collaging.  I like building up the layers, working with old texts, creating my own custom brushes.

Perhaps someday I'll actually use these in something -- what, I'm not sure yet.  I'm still learning how to work with the software and my photos.  Perhaps I'll purchase those kits I keep reading about . . . 

This image was from an old house wall whose siding was peeling off in sheets.  I cropped it closely, then added multiple layers of old text and a final layer of an abstract painting, which I adjusted in several blending modes.  I wasn't sure where this was going, but finaly had a sense of a portal into a kind of fantasy realm . . . ? 

This image was worked up from a paper towel after I'd mopped up a mess on my painting table.  When it dried, I scanned it, then left it on the computer for months.  Today as I was scrolling through my files, I came across it once again.  I liked the effect of the little nubbly texture that the scan had retained from the paper toweling. 

Using that I began adding elements -- old leaves I had scanned, old texts, flourishes cropped from the vintage signatures, and finally an  overlay of an old watercolor painting inverted and blended.

I'll have to wait for the upcoming holiday weekend to play further with these -- or make some more. I'd like to do more with these -- I've seen so many interesting digital works in magazines like "Digital Studio" -- I just need time, something that seems to be elusive these days --
 

setting sun melts into woodsmoke --

regrets rising with the moon

Last evening I sat in the garden watching the sun crouch down among the pines and the shadows stretch long, dark fingers across the lawns.

There is something incredibly beautiful about a summer garden heading into its final hours. Perhaps melancholy, yet still holding forth that fragile-edged beauty that whispers to one's soul --

 

“Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence.

Summer passes and one remembers one's exuberance.

Autumn passes and one remembers one's reverence."

Yoko Ono

It's that time of year again. Autumn is creeping in, bringing roiling skies and chilled winds from the north. The light is fading earlier each evening and, no matter how I race home from work to grab a few minutes on the deck, I never quite make it, the light dipping down below the stand of pines . . .

This season is quite dull, so far. The tropical storms from late August ripped so many trees apart, scattering branches and leaves that now there isn't much for autumn to work with -- all is sere and brown.  The splendor of a New England autumn is a faint memory from years past . . .

But the beauty of autumn is still there if one looks hard enough, long enough. Maybe it's not something you see but rather feel through the other senses -- the smell of the north winds, the crisp cold air that tingles and tantalizes, the first bite of pumpkin pie or a macintosh apple, the warmth one gathers from the fireplace, a truly wonderful spot to sit and dream . . .

 

weaving thoughts and memories around like so many strands of ribbon and yarn. And as the garden slowly moves into its yearly slumber, a stand of old bourbon roses waves as you wander by, lifting their drowsy heads to give one last scent, a parting gift . . .

A place belongs forever to whoever claims it hardest, remembers it most obsessively,

wrenches it from itself, shapes it, renders it, loves it so radically

that he remakes it in his own image.

Joan Didion

(all artwork and photography by K. Marszycki)

Nature in turmoil

earth in turmoil

skies heave

waters thrash

such anger . . . 

darkness

descends

but the dreaming tree

holds fast 

and waits . . . 

[photography by K.E. Marszycki]

The Palest of Pale

"The light of memory, or rather the light that memory
lends to things, is the palest light of all. . . . 
I am not quite sure whether I am dreaming
or remembering, whether I have lived my life
or dreamed it. 

Eugène Ionesco

"There is such a thing as the impression of luminosity."

Ludwig Wittgenstein

momentary lucidity

lucid

photo by K. E. Marszycki

dappled shadows on the lawns,

prisms sparkling on the river,

then sliding into the purpled edges of the shoreline,

ocean sunlight so bright it makes one slip back

onto the sand and drift asleep . . . 

momentary lucidity

Sometimes time is compressed and one's ability to create is limited. So, what to do? I haven't been able to take any further life study classes and my friends and family seem unwilling to sit for me -- why ever not, I'm not sure. Could it be my continual scowling, my abrupt commands ("Now, tilt your head. No, not that way! This way... Stop fiddling!"...) and the fact that texting in the middle of a sitting just does not work, spoils the feel . . .

So I decided to digitally create my own models. Here's an example of one I hope to work on this weekend:

I found the above photo online when I searched Google images for tango dancers. I love the way the bodies melt into one another and the sensuous line.  Then I pulled the image into PhotoShop and began to alter it, erasing the male figure as I wanted to isolate the female form.  By using various effects, such as charcoal and pencil, I ended with this variation, which gives me a clear sense of line and of light & shadow. I'll probably enlarge this to page size (8 x 10) and work from there.

So when desperate for a model to sketch/paint from, why not give it a try?  There are other variations I'm trying also -- the effect of stone would be cool or manipulating the colors and adding layers of texture to reach a more "painterly" look.  And the beauty is -- these models do not talk back, do not fidget, text their friends or change the pose.  Think about it . . .

 "the imagination spins and weaves new patterns . . .  pure inventions, 

absurdities, and improvisations."

August Strindberg

Snow Journal Redux . . .

Another storm has descended with a second wave beginning later tonight of sleet and ice . . . here is my thought on winter:

"Winter: the pearled edge of lunacy"

. . . which is actually one of my bright orange day lilies inverted to negative with added textures.

Ironic, uh?

Off to shovel . . . the question is: where to put it all?

Just think -- we have at least 6 weeks left of this . . .