Dinnertime on the Homestead

Dinnertime, 2019, Archival Digital Print

The flock is molting now so added protein is important. Yesterday it was warm scrambled eggs with herbs, salmon, and 8-grain wheat toast. They gathered together in the communal meal, making soft happy sounds.

Nicky, the feral cat I’m hoping to tame, got eggs too. They are so plentiful now and such a perfect protein that the hens actually give back more than they get consume.

I repeat myself, but the pleasure of  being part of the land in the way living here has given me is so pleasurable.  I am grateful.

 

The air has changed

Adolescent Turkeys, 2019, Archival Digital Print

The first whiff of Autumn came last week. Now in spite of the high temperatures and the violent thunderstorms and drenching rains on many nights, the summer’s end nudges at us.  Another sign is the young Turkeys who long ago fledged and are now long-necked and adolescent.  The flock is big.  Here are a few stragglers.  Their sibs already crossed the road and were safely hidden in the grasses.  These two had attitude and risked the on coming car.

 

Debate Night I

Morning Magic, 2019, Archival Digital Print

What a strange experience to watch the Democratic Debates tonight and the flashy production of the set, more Jeopardy or a World Wide Wrestling match than the serious process of a debate for the highest office in our democracy.  We have become so accustomed to visual overload that few may have noticed.  It’s all part of our pinball-light-up-and-win world.

Here, though, I can bring a slow eye to what I see.  This photo, another fortuitous find, was shot in the hours of early light.

 

 

 

A Good Week

Abundance, June, 2019, Archival Digital Print

Zac, Zip, Jerry, and Ruthie enjoy a pan of water, bathing and drinking. There is lavish green everywhere, all shades and variants from pale yellowish to deep blue.  June is the best month.  Everything on the homestead feels harmonious and lavish, generous and abundant.

I marvel at my good fortune to have found my magical spot.  Earlier in the week I picked up a tiny fawn who was lying out under a tree alone.  I put her back down aware that her mother would soon return for her and that I was violating Nature’s plan.  But the experience was memorable and a gift to me.  I took care of four motherless Robin hatchlings and they grew and fledged earlier in the week so all in all, it was a week of gifts and pleasures.

My linocut Nancy portfolio is completed as well.  It was a year of work, hundreds of hours.  Ten prints which I may extend to twelve these interest me so much.  Then to edition them.

 

 

Photography’s Grand Place

Bridge in the Mist, 2019, Archival Digital Print

The magic and miracle of photography, the camera, the eye into reality, never fails to intrigue me. It introduces all the questions about reality, position, place, and the documentation of time that Painting can only hint at.

As I frequently address, all photographs by their nature are in our history, situated absolutely in the past. Photography automatically arouses nostalgia that painting cannot do without seeming maudlin, cloying or merely illustrative.  The photograph holds this unique place as no other art form can.  I wonder why this feature is so rarely addressed.

 

The Eternal Reliability of the Turning

TockTock Free Ranging in the Plant Shed, 2018, Archival Digital Print

There is reassurance in the turning of the wheel and in spite of the things that seem disruptive, each settles in and is absorbed as life continues, the sun rises and travels through the sky and sets in the west only to rise again into our eternity. Maybe not all of eternity but certainly in ours, the life of a mite relative to all time.

My new boy TickTock escaped his crate when I brought him home from a Connecticut farm and is free-ranging in the plant shed.  My confidence in being able to catch any living bird has been challenged by this fast and beautiful boy.  I keep telling him about the six hens who await his morning song and beautiful feathers but TickTock wants none of it.  He’d rather perch and poop on my washing machine.

 

The Artist’s Pleasure

Sunday Morning Convocation, 2018, Archival Digital Print

Photography as a valid member of the Fine Arts has always been problematic. What is there is there which means that the nuance and encapsulated time compression of Painting doesn’t hold the energy of a masterpiece or if it does, not in the same way. Photography is nonetheless a thrilling medium capable of both the outlandish and the sublime. The recent visit to my yard by a Bear set off ideas and potential events.  I was trying to get the feel of a Bruegel.

 

An Unexpected Visitor

 

Feeder, Lawn, Bear, 2018, Archival Digital Print

This huge fellow visited my front lawn on Tuesday morning around nine. He was only interested in bird seed and decimated the feeders. I was sitting on the back porch steps when he arrived in his black-hole black, a darkness I have never seen on an animal before and his huge brown snout. What good luck to see him so close!  After thirty minutes of looking around he wandered away.