interiors

march 2

Timna helped me think of black and white things and pictures I might want to interpret pieces of. She suggested Edward Weston, and pointed me to the stunning nautilus shell. I used an edge of it yesterday, and the center of it today. 

I had thought I wanted to interpret entire images in (more or less overlapping) circles, and then attach them together to make an interrupted version of the original. But I am less sure of that idea. Maybe I just need to experiment with how to get layers of black and white and gray together. 

After the snowstorm Thursday, all the world outside was shades of gray and white, and rain-soaked black. The snow was still stuck to everything; tree branches and telephone wires and fences and ponies. It was very beautiful. And made me want to make circles of it. 

March 1

march 1

I like March for a couple foolish reasons: March 4th is the only day of the year that is a command, March 14 is pi(e) day (3/14 = 3.14 which is a decimal approximation of the ratio of the diameter of a circle to its radius) and March 17 is Aerin's birthday. 

March is also black and white and shades of gray, and pieces of a larger thing. So the reason this circle doesn't look like anything is because it is out of context. I will show you the context soon. 

leap day!

feb 29

I was thinking about March already, and how it is going to be black and white and shades of gray, and I remembered that for years when I thought of rods and cones, the light sensing organs in the retina of an eye, I imagined the rods to be black and white. Which is foolish because they see in monochrome, not necessarily black and white. They are not the colors they sense. And cartainly the cones are not the colors they are sensitive to. But there you are, brains are funny places. 

We are having a (relatively) late season snow storm, and it has already dropped as much snow as the last three storms. We are snugged up for the night. I love how quiet snowstorms are. 

branching

feb 28

Branching is basic. Fundamental, even.

Trees branch. Rivers do the reverse of branch, with tributaries coming into the main stream, until they get to a delta and branch out into distributaries across a nearly level surface. Veins and capilliaries branch and deliver oxygen to tissues, then regroup to return depleted blood to the lungs. 

two circles and a rosette

feb 27

For todays circle I was thinking about the beautiful curl inside your ears where you actually hear things. Where secrets go. Where music goes. All the other noises go too, like jackhammers and farting buses, but I was trying to be poetical. 

I was at an awards dinner last night, which was raucous fun. It was the end-of-year awards for Xenophon Farm, and as well as the high point scorers for various levels of dressage, there were also essays on why the author should get an award even though they didn't ride in three shows and/or get decent scores.

To my astonishment, I won the high point award for Training level Seniors. That was fun. But cheering for the people who were talking about having to halt because the screws in their broken leg were coming unscrewed was better. Or the bold kid who is getting used to a new pony and their scores are dreadful, but they keep on working. 

So I did finish this circle yesterday, but then I had to bolt to get to dinner on time. I was thinking about red blood cells, carrying oxygen around so we can move and think, but more of them look like roses than blood cells.  I don't know why all these ideas about cells in my body turn into roses. There must be a metaphor in there somewhere. Or a joke. 

feb 26

three spirals

feb 24

I know, I'm counting again! Just think of it in The Count's voice: "Three, three leetle felty spirals, ah, ah, ah ah" (and a crash of thunder in the background). Here you can see   him count many things, including three (three)  leetle pigs. 

I couldn't think how to apply thread, so I left it alone. It looks naked to me, but pretty. 

spiraling in

feb 22

Spiraling to find a center? When I ride, the horse and I will spiral from a large circle into a smaller circle, and then leg yield out again. This helps the horse place her hind legs more under her, and carry herself better.

To me though, this piece feels more like spiraling towards the center, the point of balance. It is a kind of seeking thing, the precise reverse of what a scenting hound does; spiraling out from the last known location of the target, and seeking a scent.