How Does Your Garden Grow?
I am not a gardener in any sense of the word. When my husband comes back from being out of town, he doesn't bother to ask if I've watered the plants - he just grabs the water bucket and does it - first thing. I forget we have plants, although I like them.
I am not a gardener in any sense of the word. When my husband comes back from being out of town, he doesn't bother to ask if I've watered the plants - he just grabs the water bucket and does it - first thing. I forget we have plants, although I like them.
So why, you ask, do I have a photograph of begonias on this post? First off, I'm thinking about creating a series of begonia images to transfer onto silk for scarves and custom fabrics. Second, I love begonias - I LOVE them. I cannot go past a begonia plant without sinking into a warm pool of 6th grade memories. Yeah, 6th grade.
Our family had just moved from England to Bad Kreuznach, Germany - undoubtedly one of the smaller military bases in Europe. I was in a new school with American kids (in England I had attended an all girls British public school), I was a crossing guard (power!), and I was a Girl Scout!
In Germany, we didn't sell Girl Scout cookies; we sold Girl Scout calendars - I know what you're thinking, but each month was a picture of a happy Scout doing happy Scout things - this was the 60s afterall. The other thing we did was earn merit badges. I was a badge hog; if there was a badge, I wanted it for my sash. And wouldn't you know? There was a merit badge for gardening.
Living in military housing doesn't give you much of a chance to garden. Our intrepid Scout leader decided we should help beautify the elementary school I attended. And by beautify, she meant, repotting 6,000 begonia plants into big round clay planters. Yes, you heard me, 6,000. And for some reason it was fun!
Was it the comraderie? Probably that was some of it. Was it the promise of the merit badge reward? Surely. But I think it was probably the first time I'd gotten my hands onto a live plant. Not only were they brilliant in color, but at the end of the weekend, I got to step back and see . . . a sea of begonias, that I had helped create.
I went back to that small town last fall; the military base has been closed for years, and many of the buildings have either been left to decay or have been retrofitted. My elementary school is now a place where special needs kids go to learn. As you see from the photo below, there aren't any begonias left - not even much grass. But that doesn't erase from my sense memory the experience. And if you look closely, you'll see begonias around my neck.
War & Nature: Bataan Shadows
At Mile 15 in last year's Bataan Memorial Death March, you came to walk beside me. I could see faint images of you on either side of me. The only sound, however, was that of my feet on the dusty rocky trail at White Sands Missile Range.
At Mile 15 in last year's Bataan Memorial Death March, you came to walk beside me. I could see faint images of you on either side of me. The only sound, however, was that of my feet on the dusty rocky trail at White Sands Missile Range.
You only stayed a moment, but after you left, the bending bowing cactus and pinon accompanied me. They lined the road much as the Filipino women and children must have done over 70 years ago - trying to provide food and water.
I wanted pictures of you to take as a blessed remembrance, but (ironically) for me, had no camera.
This year, once again, as the soldiers left me, you appeared and I was able to capture your presence. Thank you for being there.
This scarf is a limited edition of 15. This is the original image; the actual silk piece may vary in color due to fabric and dyes. Please see this and other scarves at my Shop.
Memorial: Water Vine
This is the first in a series of stories about my silk scarves and fabric pieces. Each piece does have a story and by sharing them here, I hope that you'll be able to pass along the tale as you wear the scarf.
This is the first in a series of stories about my silk scarves and fabric pieces. Each piece does have a story and by sharing them here, I hope that you'll be able to pass along the tale as you wear the scarf.
Memorial: Water Vine is a collaged image printed in black and white on silk chiffon. The scarf itself is 14 x 72 inches. This piece came together on a rainy November day as I attended a Veteran's memorial service at Chicago's river front Vietnam Veteran's Memorial. The memorial is formal, yet the fountains of water that spring from the front of wall of names speaks to a freedom that these men and women fought for. The vines in the photograph represent the jungle through which both sides had to fight. For those of you who don't know, my father was KIA in Vietnam in 1967; this event and the area feature prominently in my art and writing.
This scarf is a limited edition of 15. Presented are the original image and the ensuing scarf. To purchase this scarf or see others, please go to my shop
