Thursday, February 24, 2011

Bird Watching

This is the time of year is when you see all kinds of feathery fowl stopping by on their migration back north, or simply some native birds scoping out nesting areas, sitting in trees and just chirping merrily. On my way out this morning, a couple red birds were hopping around my gardenia bush and some sparrows were foraging for food in the backyard. So pretty.

Every year, I look forward to see what little bluebird or chickadee family will nest in our birdhouse in the front yard. The girls like to take a peek at the eggs and then finally, when the little ones are born, we observe the mom perched on a wire close to the birdhouse, watch and guard her little ones and fly back and forth to feed them little goodies.

And while this little story plays out in my front yard, I think about how we move in and out of buildings throughout our day, oblivious to our surroundings, ticking off to-do lists in our heads. And then a little picture flashed in my mind, that maybe some of these little birds are probably observing us too, curiously.

3x3 mixed media on wood, "one little birdie"

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Learning to fly

R.A.D. (rail arts district) this past weekend was so much fun! We artists at 151 Locust were privileged to see around 1000 people come through our space to check out works of art by seven local artists presented by the Avondale Arts Alliance. It was a beautiful, warm sunny day and we enjoyed live music, delectable food from local food trucks and, of course, some great eye candy by other fellow artists in the area.

I was excited to sell many new pieces I had just created over the last couple weeks. Sometimes it's sad to see the originals go so quickly when I don't get to enjoy seeing them around the studio for awhile. But don't think I'm complaining! This recent piece, "Learning to fly" is perched on my windowsill and is guaranteed to give me some love for the time being.

Monday, February 07, 2011

Soul Blossom, thinking of happiness and love

Let us be grateful to people who make us happy; they are charming gardeners who make our soul blossom.
-Marcel Proust
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