by
fillière
Categories: UncategorizedTags: Culture, Fantasy, Image, Insight, Life, Photography, Poetry, Reality, Truth, Understanding
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Tag: Photography
Summer Sky 2
Summer Sky
That singular canal evening
of August ’66,
piled high with its references to Ruisdael,
Rembrandt, and Claude Lorraine,
trickled down
from Holland’s summer sky
and settled around us
its light & aromatic amber.
River Warrior 2
This is the same face as in my sculpture, River Warrior, posted July 24, and of previous photo, Tcup of Edges, and makes an interesting compare / contrast of the end results of quite different modes of perception and creativity.
Tcup of Edges
Searching, reading the tea-cup leaves of memory.
River Warrior
A recent sculpture I made of a friend of mine whom I think of as a River Warrior: each summer, for decades now, he chooses a river, sometimes close by, sometimes in far outlying areas of Canada, and sets off to conquer it in his canoe. His preference of travelling companion is a little armful of over-eager positivity, a white Scotty Terrier named Kate. The agenda this summer is a Great Bear Lake tributary to the Mackenzie River in our Arctic Circle.
Hosting An Idea
A patch of my garden currently looks like this and this morning triggered pic/poem.
Sculptural Figure
I think of this palm-sized bone sculpture now, more or less as a personal art motif that is always poised and ready for a new closeup photo from any angle.
I saw its potential after removing it as just a chunk of solid bone from a pot-roast 36 years ago and immediately began removing cartilage, rounding edges, cutting ovals into its planes to let in air and light, enriching its surfaces with scratched markings; and while I made the final adjustments to its form a dozen years ago, have since shifted the artistic exploration over into photography as its shape and form is so varied that it always offers up an attractive aspect in just about any lighting cast upon it, or any lighting that can be manipulated in a digital darkroom.
Boreal Trees, Oceanside
North Atlantic, Canada Bay, Great Northern Peninsula, NL.
This scene is just a few steps away from the one in my earlier blog post: Ebb Tide.
The home-made walkway of a nearby cottage crosses some boggy turf and a narrow passage way to a rocky island; and if you face into the sun at the end of the boards, you encounter the low tide view of that previous post. Salt spray, high winds, and lack of depth of soil will prevent those trees from being little more than phenomenal shrubbery in that fabulous rock-scape.
And of course, at highest tide the water rises to just a foot below the boardwalk.
fillière 