passionate poet

I made this shadow box because I revere the poems of Gerald Manley Hopkins. Faith and doubt in God is what he's known for, but I've always seen almost a holy reverence for nature in his words. When you read him, you can almost hear him breathing in the room, winded from one of his lengthy trapses in the wood. This stanza is from 'Insvernaid' written about 1880.

What would the world be, once bereft of wildness and wet?
Let them be left, oh let them be left,
Wildness and wet;
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.

This outdoor loving woman is standing on a rock while the river rushes by her. A speckled trout has jumped into her arms. Birds fly overhead and water rats hold everything aloft.

Gerald, who suffered from depression, but fought it bravely died of typhoid fever in 1875. His last words "I am happy, so happy."

Cranberry Sauce

I think there should be three kinds of cranberry sauce at the Thanksgiving table. Plain,which is clear and tart, then the whole cranberry style,which looks like a dish full of jewels, and finally ground cranberries and oranges. If I were to make a list of what I'm grateful for at Thanksgiving, it might begin with husband, friends and family, our dogs and Joe the Cat, but it wouldn't be complete until it included cranberries. Hope you have a loving, happy Thanksgiving.xx Julie

Song Thrush nest

The shearwater lays her egg in a bare hole dug in the peat; The kingfisher gradually ammases fish bones for a bed for a tiny fist sized cave in a riverbank; the song thrush builds its nest in a thick hedge or ivy growing against a wall, and it's as tightly woven as a teacup. My bird books list song thrush along with the wood thrush. One book even shows its song in musical notes! The eggs are beach rocks I've collected from Otter Cove. Bird eggs are full of promise, like Robert Louis Stevenson says
Younger than we are
Oh children and frailer;
Soon in blue air
They'll be singer and sailor.

Winged Suitor

A hermit thrush peers in my bedroom window each morning, as soon as I wake up, then he dashes up and down on the tree branch, batting his wings. I've painted his portrait on the scalloped soap dish, and there's a few other bird pieces in honor of birds in general. Did you know when you find a feather on the ground that you've received a letter from a bird?

needle and thread

Blue day cuff .

The blue button below was grandmas. Every time I look at it I remember how her closet smelled. Cedar, lavender and tussy powder.
When we unpacked our things in this house, I realized the moving gods took my sewing basket, threads and even a silver thimble that fit my finger as snugly as my wedding ring. It's taken awhile, but I've amassed almost everything I need to make myself a few new pieces of clothing. I've ordered Irish Linen for a blouse, and made buttons too. I started with a cuff . See? Flying things appliqued in blues of Liberty of London, and old American cottons. The blouse will be all linen with a few bits of blue too. The other cuff, in reds, shows one of my new poem buttons. I was going for a piece of paper from an old letter kind of look.

The old buttons are mostly from Bonnie's, at Birds of a Feather, here in Cambria. I visited her yesterday, and not only found these wonderful buttons, but a new basket for my embroidery thread, needles and pins. I'm still looking for the thimble!

Staffordshire Rules

Does Anyone else out there tingle when they see Staffordshire pottery? I especially like the 1790-1820 period when they started to make pieces that reflected current events, and customs. These pieces are a part of what I'm working on for an upcoming Rabbits in Love grouping. Not exactly like the eighteenth century, but in the spirit of that tradition.

About Flowers

Mid-August and I might as well admit it, my garden is a dud. Its a forest of green: Rosemary, leggy lavender, mile high juniper and fir, and geraniums which have been denuded of thier bloom by the herds of deer that chew their way through the neighborhood every night.

So I long for blooms, especially when my friend from Mass., Liz, (Hi, Liz) sent me photos of her vibrant flowers, including heavenly blue morning glories slithering up and over a birdhouse.

All this leads me to painting flowers in the all over pattern , then when I open my kiln its sort of like a little greenhouse...........