Ah, shall I follow, on the hills, The Spring, as wild wings follow?Where wild-plum trees make wan the hills, Crabapple trees the hollow, Haunts of the bee and swallow?
In redbud brakes and flowery Acclivities of berry; In dogwood dingles, showery With white, where wrens make merry? Or drifts of swarming cherry?
Sadly not mine and there is more to that poem but I cannot remember. The pastel (brilliant) and the picture reminded me of the crabapple trees we had on the homestead in England. Huge plum trees, gooseberries, black currants, rhubard, black berries and wild strawberries, my dads wine grape vines climbing the front of the house...oh I am wandering. thanks for coming back from the lake to us!
Felt like something was missing from the blogpost and couldn't quite figure out what... Now I know - It was the poetic touch of Your spiritual wanderings! :-) My grandmother grew strawberries on much too dry land and they turned out really sour, small and seriously crinkled. Nevertheless they tasted delicious together with her pancakes and vanilla ice cream. Still don't know how she did that. Magic, I guess.
soft pastel on dark blue paper / softpastell på mörkblått papper
10 kommentarer:
i like your pictures ..
i like it, too :)
and very nice new picture of the lakemaid :)
It brings light into the night :)
Najs att ha dig tillbaka! Våra liv har varit lite fattigare....
Nirak
Thank You! These are small and sour apples growing in my parents' garden, but they make quite a nice soft pastel, don't they? :-)
Wortman
Well, I'm just passing some light and colour on that I got from elsewhere myself! ;-) Thank's!
Lasse
Hej på dig, min drutt! ;-)
- fast jag är inte helt säker på att jag är riktigt, riktigt tillbaka ännu...
Ah, shall I follow, on the hills, The Spring, as wild wings follow?Where wild-plum trees make wan the hills,
Crabapple trees the hollow, Haunts of the bee and swallow?
In redbud brakes and flowery Acclivities of berry;
In dogwood dingles, showery
With white, where wrens make merry?
Or drifts of swarming cherry?
Sadly not mine and there is more to that poem but I cannot remember. The pastel (brilliant) and the picture reminded me of the crabapple trees we had on the homestead in England. Huge plum trees, gooseberries, black currants, rhubard, black berries and wild strawberries, my dads wine grape vines climbing the front of the house...oh I am wandering. thanks for coming back from the lake to us!
Thank You, dear Pip!
Felt like something was missing from the blogpost and couldn't quite figure out what...
Now I know - It was the poetic touch of Your spiritual wanderings! :-)
My grandmother grew strawberries on much too dry land and they turned out really sour, small and seriously crinkled. Nevertheless they tasted delicious together with her pancakes and vanilla ice cream. Still don't know how she did that. Magic, I guess.
I think, your painting would be a nice print?
Could be, could be. I will have to think about it. :-)
very beautiful....will be waiting to see more of them.
thankyou
j
Thank YOU, J! Soon enough, soon enough. I've got one on my working table waiting to be finished. :-)
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