One of my goals for this year was to try painting with gouache. I procrastinated for nine months and was finally inspired on a walk when I saw these Celosia plants. I loved the shape so much I decided to paint them.
I kind of "cheated" when painting as I ended up using my white and pink Posca pens to make the fine hairs. At least the base color and leaves were gouache. But I am not a purist about these things as my focus is just getting it to look right. And at least it got me started with gouache. Below you can see a couple process photos with the gouache base layers.
When I look up the spiritual meaning of the plants I felt like the universe was sending me a message.
"The name Celosia comes from the Greek word keleos, meaning 'burning', as the bright plumes look like rising flames. They represent fearlessness and strength." (Google)
The bright, fiery shapes are viewed by some as a physical representation of spiritual enlightenment and inner fire. They can also represent a fresh start, courage, and good fortune. In Victorian floriography, if you wanted to inspire someone to perform courageous feats, you'd give them a bouquet of celosia flowers (Petal Republic). I won't go into all the details, but I recently had to conquer a big fear and am starting fresh on several fronts. I am always astonished how the plants in my artwork nourish me on many levels. And I feel lucky the Celosia reached out her spiky fingers to grab my attention and get me started on my new gouache endeavors!
“Woven into our lives is the very fire from the stars and genes from the sea creatures,
and everyone, utterly everyone, is kin in the radiant tapestry of being.”
― Elizabeth A. Johnson
Family Reunion
Last month I had the opportunity to tag along on my sister's husband's family reunion. I LOVE LOVE LOVE going to the beach. So when my sister's husband couldn't go and they asked if I wanted to take his place, the answer was YES!!!
The reunion took place at Old Orchard Beach, Maine, and we stayed at a historic house with cottages called Odessa by the Sea. My whole goal for the week was to swim in the ocean. I was worried I wouldn't be able to because the water temperature. Luckily, the first day I arrived the water felt pretty good. I swam every day except one, but the water got colder and colder as the week went on. I was barely able to go under quickly and come right back out. But this "cold-water-ninny" was proud of herself for going in.
Below are a few photos of my sister, me, and her two sons.
Beach
Every single day I walked on the beach and it was such a joy. The very first day I woke up early and found these beautiful ridges in the sand before anyone had walked on them.
When I saw the ridges, it made me think that the earth really is the most prolific and talented artist that exists, painting a new scene every single day.
Eventually dogs, people, and the ocean took the "ridgework" away.
Rose Hips
The house where we stayed was only a block away from the ocean and we had to walk through a grass-covered dune to get to the water. As I walked across the dune the first day, I spied the most amazing thing...gorgeous, giant rose hips! They looked like red octopi, kissed by the sun, dangling from the leaves of the rose bushes.
I had debated whether or not to bring my sketchbook. I often bring it on trips like this and it never leaves my suitcase. But the rose hips were so incredible, I dug it out.
I also had the best seat in the house on the upper balcony to paint. I could just see the ocean from where I sat, painting to my hearts content.
When I got home I added the type.
Barnacles
Another thing I found fascinating were the barnacles. I know they may not be everyone's cup of tea, but to this land-bound girl from Cincinnati, OH, they were like intricate, living art.
When you walk the beach you always have to find a landmark to help you know where to turn in to your street. We were lucky in that our street was marked by a string of about 20 rocks covered in barnacles. At low tide they were covered in children with buckets of water, scampering about searching for crabs.
Seaweed
The first day I walked there was a lot of seaweed on the beach. I know if you live near the beach, it is probably not that interesting to you. But I like to think that if I lived by the ocean, I would find the seaweed endlessly captivating. I absolutely love the chubby, yellow "claws" at the end of the branches. And the plump "berries" that help them float are equally beautiful. I was also amazed at how the clumps were often arranged perfectly as if someone had taken the time to lay them out before pressing them flat.
Here is my compilation sketch.
Wood
If we turned right (south) when we walked on the beach we eventually came to an inlet that was difficult to pass at high tide. Lining this inlet were large rocks that had pieces of wood that had gotten lodged there over time.
I don't know what species of tree made this wood, but the lines of the growth rings and the old worn knobs were fabulous! I could easily have spent a day clambering over these rocks looking for wood to photograph.
Wolfe's Neck Woods
One day my sister and I met a friend at Wolfe's Neck Woods. We had lunch sitting on a blanket overlooking the bay. Afterwards, my sister and I drove to the state park and walked down to the water. It was quintessential Maine. The large rocks here had such character. While there, a squall came through and we sat under a tree waiting for it to pass.
It was nice to sit on the rocks and absorb the beauty of this place with my sister. It is not often we get to spend the day together chit-chatting about the mysteries of this world.
Map
I wasn't sure I was going to do a blog post about this trip. But I got an email from an artist I follow named Jean Mackay. Jean is an incredible nature journal artist, and I have gotten her emails for many years. Last week, her email was about making maps of the places you visit. I knew it would be a fair amount of work, but I decided to try it.
I liked thinking about the mental map I had made in my head of the beach. I knew I would put in the rocks and lifeguard stand that marked where to turn in to our street (plus a few rose hips for good measure). Also, I knew the bounds would be the pier with the circus on the north side and the river inlet on the south side. I also wanted to include the highlight of my nephew winning a stuffed animal warthog at the arcade and the lobster roll we ate afterwards. And of course I had to add Odessa by the Sea. And I even added the dolphins we saw one day.
Once I finished the map I decided to make a video so I could zoom in and show the highlights. Turn your volume on! (Music by Quincy Maddison from Pixabay)
Family
Music gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind,
flight to the imagination, and life to everything.
―Plato
The last topic I want to write about from this trip was the family reunion itself. I only know my sister's husband's two sisters. But the reunion had about forty people, most of whom I hadn't met yet. I was struck by two things. First, I was deeply impressed by the musical talent of this family. I would not say I am that into listening to live music. But I was utterly blown away by it. The first night one person played the guitar and sang. It was so beautiful it gave me the chills. I was actually surprised at my reaction and was looking forward to the next night.
The following night, my nephew played with drums with the guitar singer. Again, I was utterly and absolutely blown away. I had a feeling I don't get very often. As I was sitting there I realized I was completely content. I was incredibly present and didn't want to be anywhere other than the place I was in that moment. It is so different from my normal state of always thinking about what is coming up and what I need to do to get to the next thing. If I had to describe the experience, I would say it was like being absolutely absorbed and in love with the present moment. As the week went on, more family members came out of the woodwork with their incredible voices, piano, and guitar playing. I was truly impressed and inspired.
"When we listen to music we are not listening to the past,
we are not listening to the future, we are listening to an expanded present."
―Alan Watts
The second thing I want to mention about this family is that the love was palpable. Often, there are family dynamics that are playing out when such a number of people gather together. There probably were this time too. But the thing I sensed the most was that all these people loved being in each other's company. I felt like a firefly buzzing around on the outskirts looking in upon a great bonfire. I was barely even able to get people's names straight by the time I left. But I loved observing small moments of interaction... the attention to detail in cooking, the time spent when older cousins played with the younger ones, the admiration in the eyes of the elders while listening to the next generation play music. I could go on and on. But I want to end by saying how lucky I was to have been included in this week by the sea. A big thank you to the Amarels for including this sun-kissed hanger-on in their celebration and so much gratitude for including me in your magic, music, food and love. Such a gift to spend time with you all.
"Hey babe, take a walk on the wild side. " —Lou Reed
I like to refer to the wisteria vine in my backyard as La Madre. In 2017 a gardener magically appeared and attempted to clear the wisteria from the back yard. (I say magically because he only stayed a couple weeks before he disappeared.) That was the year I made my first basket and I did a nice post about the whole process here. I remember feeling bad about cutting La Madre down, but I tried to honor her by making her into baskets. I suspected a little vine might still be lurking beyond the fence, but I had no idea that nine years later she would reappear holding an entire tree aloft.
In 2020 I had friends over to make a few baskets. I remember we easily found long strands of wisteria to work with toward the back fence. I must have been stressed by Covid in 2020 because I only did a post of my basket on Instagram (swipe to see everyone's baskets).
When a tree fell in our backyard this year, we got to see the immense strength, creative power, and resilience of the vine.
"It's said that the Wisteria Vine is a symbol of immortality... resilient enough to thrive for centuries even if left forgotten."
― Adalyn Grace
Vine Harvest
This whole project began because a large tree cracked in half right behind our fence. When I went to investigate the damage, I encountered hundreds of her slender, tangled arms holding the tree about eight feet off the ground. I needn't have worried about destroying her nine years ago. She is an unstoppable, creative force of nature. It's almost as though she thrived after getting a haircut.
"Wisteria is what happens when beauty refuses to be tamed." —AI
At first my nephew and I tried to cut some of the wisteria, but it was a little dicey as the tree was quite heavy and I worried about it falling on us. Eventually our neighbor Joe and his son came over with their chain saw, and we were able to untangle the tree and chop it up.
This week, I asked George to help me do a little more cleanup. The wisteria was still everywhere, but it was climbing up a hackberry tree and our baby goal was to at least cut it out of that one tree. Here is George with the loppers in our wild backyard.
"We sleep, but the loom of life never stops, and the pattern which was weaving when the sun went down is weaving when it comes up in the morning." — Henry Ward Beecher
Ring and Rim
Below you can see the first ring I made from the vines. I started working with this ring until I noticed something beautiful in the back corner of the yard. It appeared La Madre not only wanted to impress me with her feats of strength, but also wanted to collaborate.
The back corner is where La Madre was originally planted. In the dark shadows I could see the vine had twisted itself into gorgeous braids. It appeared she had gotten a head start on the weaving. The strands were woven into intricate patterns no basket-maker could have planned. I imagine her taking pity on me, laughing at my feeble over-under over-under designs, and offering me her help. So George cut a section out for me and I made a new ring. Below you can see the vine before I trimmed the leaves.
After I removed the leaves, I curved it back on itself to form a fairly wide ring for the rim of my basket.
"Beauty is what happens when wisteria refuses to be tamed."
(my twist on AI quote from above)
Adding Ribs
After making the rim, I started looking for thicker pieces of flexible vine for the ribs. Every piece of vine carries its own history. Some curved willingly. Others resisted.
I think I had nine ribs by the very end. You can see seven below. The rib beneath my thumb turned out to be the most troublesome one in the basket. It resisted from beginning to end. Looking back, I'm glad I kept it. Without that stubborn rib, the basket would have behaved better, but it would have had less character.
Weaving
The beginning is always the hardest part because the ribs still want to move around on you.
It is best to weave a strand on each side to secure the ribs. And then I added a strand right in the middle that helped secure the location of the ribs.
I probably should have cut the long ends of the ribs off sooner than I did. They get in the way of weaving. But I like to keep them until the ribs are nice and secure, just in case I need to adjust the shape by pushing them through a bit.
On a "regular" basket using store-bought reed, I probably wouldn't weave new strands in like I did in the middle as shown in the photo below. Sometimes it can lead you to have repeating over-over, instead of over-under. But on a natural basket like this, you start to learn that anything goes.
Also, some of the turns were too tight for my wisteria vine. This was especially true on my "difficult" rib. And when I would pull it tight, I would hear the snap of the vine breaking. In the beginning I cut it and re-wove the new piece next to it for a couple inches. But by the end, I just kept going. Often there were thin, flexible fibrous strands that made the tight turn, and that seemed to hold things in place. I felt like the vine was teaching me to let go and trust in the process.
Finished Basket
By the end, the basket was VERY strong and the weave was tight. It didn't matter that there were broken bits here and there. I just cut them off as close as I could and continued weaving.
Here you can see a top-down view. Eventually, the white of the cut ribs will fade and not be as obvious.
Also, the green wisteria will fade to brown as it dries.
A few things I haven't mentioned that are helpful if you are going to try this: 1) Use a screwdriver or awl to help separate the vines as things get tighter. 2) Cut the end of the vine to a point to help ease the entry into tight spots. 3) Keep pushing the weaving to either side and adding new vines for as long as you can possibly stand it....until it is VERY tight and you can no longer squeeze in any more vines. This may mean you have to turn back around before you reach the rim to fill the wide spaces that are looser on the bottom.
Up Close
As you know if you read this blog regularly, one of my favorite parts of this work is the photography, especially close-ups, at the end. Below are some of my favorites.
I love that you can see the natural braiding of the wisteria vine around the rim of the basket. Interestingly, my favorite part of the basket wasn't something I created. It was the section the wisteria had already woven for itself.
I thought about cutting this white nubbin off, but in the end I liked that it became a focal point for this side of the basket.
As you can see below, the weaving wasn't perfect, but it really didn't matter in the end.
I particularly liked the photo below. It shows just how rough the texture was and although it will fade, I love the green.
The photo below shows the messiest part of the weaving. But this is the quirky nature of natural basketmaking.
I super-loved the change in direction of the vines in the photo below. It was a contender for the lead title photo, but the background didn't offer as much contrast to the type.
Hanging Basket
Once I was finished weaving I tied three strings to the basket.
Below is a video that condenses two days of work into 90 seconds. Turn on your volume! (Music by Tunetank from Pixabay).
I ended up adding a hosta to the basket just for the photos.
After the photo session I had to take it out because, although a tree falling instigated this project, I made it for another reason altogether. I made it for my friend Tiffany's birthday. Tiffany used to live in Cincinnati, but moved to New Hampshire. So I didn't think the hosta would ship very well. If there was ever a person who would appreciate a creative gift a little on the wild side made by La Madre and me, it is Tiffany. If I had to describe Tiffany in one word, it would be "maker." She is currently working in glass and has been making tiny glass octopi and encasing them in a marble. They are fantastic!
Conclusion
As always, at the end of every project I like to look back and see what I learned. And for this project it is fairly obvious. This basket was good practice at helping a rule-following neat-freak loosen up a bit. Although I like to think I can embrace imperfection, if I am honest, I really don't like it. It took some restraint not to cut off the weird potato spud ending that poked out of the basket on one side. And not only did I not cut it off, but I actually came to appreciate it as the focal point on one side! To me this is a sign that maybe my perfectionist knot is loosening up a bit. I don't think anyone would describe my aesthetic as loosey-goosey, but I think it's safe to say this basket is on the wonky, wild side of things. As I wove this basket, La Madre was weaving me at the same time. As she put me through her turns, she was showing me how accepting things as they are is not some kind of punishment. But that the places that don't go according to plan can become the most interesting part of the whole kit and caboodle. Maybe beauty isn't found in trimming away every stray tendril. Maybe it lives in the wildness itself. After all, La Madre isn't the only one with a few unruly strands.
To weave everything together, in closing I would like to wish Tiffany a very HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! And encourage anyone reading this to get out there and do your creative thing! Channel your inner Madre and be a creative force in this world. Make your tiny glass octopi and your imperfect vine baskets...because if not you, then who?
“This is the crux of being a Creative Mother... It is about the act of living authentically whilst honoring your mother self and creative self. About saying yes to life, every part of your life, and finding how to weave them all together.”
