45 posts categorized "Color"

Amidst the blues

Bvm_blues Mary in blue, amidst the blues, watches over; she emerged in all her glory from Paulo's cardboard box of treasures / New Jersey / Jan. 2010

“I am a wistful troubadour
Beneath high heaven's wall,
Watching for my Lady
Till from her casement tall,
Like a shaft of sunlight,
She lets her fair glance fall.”

~ an excerpt from Festival by Sr. Mary Philip, C.S.C.


Wrought in the stitches

Glorycloakknitting My “glory cloak” in-progress; regular increases and decreases form the triangulating pattern / New Jersey / Jan. 2010

“There are many ancient stories of knitting, and there are even some that tell of knitting as a magic charm — spells that can be wrought in the stitches of sweaters, blankets, and socks for purposes known only to the knitter.” 

~ Stephanie Pearl-McPhee in At Knit's End


I simply leave this mark of blue

Mychristmassweater

What a delight to knit with a yarn that changes colors and forms a kind of rhythm as you knit — I disregarded the pattern and kept knitting until I ran out of yarn to form a big collar; and what fun to finish a sweater in time to wear it for Christmas Eve / New Jersey / Dec. 2009

“Assuming I am a pleasant companion
with rhythm and a voice
and I depart

my hands having been
placed upon your
walls,
my fingerprints
upon your glass.

I simply leave this mark of blue

blue print.”

~ Blue Print by New Jersey poet Yictove (former host of the New York City Knitting Factory Series; his given name was Eugene Melvin Turk; his adopted name "Yictove" means "He will write")

Dear Readers: I hope I have been a pleasant companion this past year as I struggle to find my rhythm and voice. Thank you for stopping to place your hands and eyes upon my wall. With love and wishes for delightful new rhythms in the new year, Jelisava


Still life

FabricandglueStill life in mid-morning sun (flower pot soaked in glue and fabric scraps) / New Jersey / Dec. 2009

“Life batters and shapes us in all sorts of ways before it's done, but those original selves which we were born with and which I believe we continue in some measure to be, no matter what, are selves which still echo with the holiness of their origin. I believe that what Genesis suggests is that this original self, with the print of God's thumb still upon it, is the most essential part of who we are and is buried deep in all of us as a source of wisdom and strength and healing which we can draw upon or, with our terrible freedom, not draw upon as we choose. I think that among other things all real art comes from that deepest self — painting, writing, music, dance, all of it that in some way nourishes the spirit and enriches the understanding. I think that our truest prayers that can rise out of the lives of unbelievers as well as believers whether they recognize prayers or not. And I think that from there also come our best dreams and our times of gladdest playing and taking it easy and all those moments when we find ourselves being better or stronger or braver or wiser than we are.”

~ Frederick Buechner (and thanks to Mitza for giving me this bit of wisdom to read)


Ungraspable and sewing

Threadcount Sewing keeps hands and mind busy; keeps things at bay; colorful threads soothe and delight / New Jersey / Dec. 2009

“... Ungraspable and sewing
she listens to the wind passing by
fatigued on account of the birds.”

~ an excerpt from The Time of Birds by Colombian poet Luz Mary Giraldo


Their rhythm is always the same

Praisetoseeds
Delightfully colorful seeds in my November garden; I think the secret to a content life is to always be germinating new ideas and thoughts and projects and talents and interests / New Jersey / Nov. 2009

“I sing praise to seeds, their rhythm is always the same,
they open and close and jealously transmit their secret.”

(from Lesser Psalm by Edvard Kocbek; full text of the poem after the jump)

. . . and I sing praise to the rambunctious rhythm of the family: Turkey Stomp

Continue reading "Their rhythm is always the same" »


Fortified with ribbons

Ribbons_archstreet

Wrap me in ribbons / Philadelphia, PA / Nov. 2009

How wonderful to walk down a busy city street on a gray day and find the “Ribbon Vault on Arch Street” by the artist and sculptor Robert Chambers (see another of Chambers' ribbon creations here). An entire storefront, filled with ribbon spools hung on the walls, with the ribbon spilling and coiling down and out into the display windows. Repeating a theme is such a powerful statement. One uncoiled ribbon looks like something left behind by mistake. A bulging window of ribbons of various colors and widths is a celebration. Chambers says: “My work very often references a sense of experimental playfulness” and “I find myself constantly toying with visual connections between science and art, forcing them into a realm of senselessness and chaos.” I wish I had a vault of ribbons.


Macabre

Webbedscarf

The colorful scarf I've been working on; piecing together a collection of woven fabrics / New Jersey / Oct. 2009

The spiders have been busy in my house. I keep coming across tiny cobwebs, spun like the finest of silk in odd places, usually only when the light happens to hit them right. A cobweb is really a masterpiece of design and weaving — a network of fine threads spun by a spider. I think of some of the beautiful fabrics that I have been working with — all designed then woven, too. At this time of year some people decorate their houses with fake cobwebs. It occurs to me that perhaps my delicate, woven cobwebs are not a sign of insufficient housekeeping, but rather they are “seasonal decoration” not to mention works of art and design. I resolve to leave them undisturbed. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.


The heat braced without burning

Octobersun

The angle of the fine October sun makes colors glow and warms the face; so different from the burning sun of July and August / Beach Haven, NJ / October 2009

“... and the sun was back on its throne like an absolute monarch ... The heat braced without burning, the light domineered but let colors live; from the soil cautiously sprouted clover and mint, and on faces appeared diffident hopes.”

~ describing October 1860; from The Leopard by Giuseppe di Lampedusa


Layer the spices until the pot is full

Crabs_closeup

The Family Recipe Book's Famous Steamed Crabs / Maryland / August 2009

Is there anything better on a hot August afternoon than a bushel of spicy steamed crabs?

What gives the shells their bright red/orange color?
Blue crabs have pigments, including Alpha-crustacyanin and Astaxanthin, in their shells. The pigments interact to form a blue-green color. When cooked, the Alpha-crustacyanin breaks down, leaving only the Astaxanthin, which gives the shells their "hot" color. (Blue Crab FAQs)