the dark side of the melon
i see dry creek beds and ancient watercourses and perhaps signs of intergalactic life as the sun sets over the surface of this melonscape. beneath the lunar crust, there is a fire-orange interior, full of juicy flesh, and vitamin a.
i try so hard to make still blog conform to minnesota seasonality. but minnesota spring always comes later than spring in the rest of the country. and by this time of year, i’m already a little sheepish about more brown twigs when others are posting crocuses. that’s true in a normal winter. and this year it’s worse than usual because it’s april 7 and there are a couple of feet of snow still on the ground with several inches more to come tomorrow, and i just couldn’t do any more brown twigs and so you get a hothouse arrangement of greenery and color and fluff. i feel like a vegan who walked past the butcher counter earlier this afternoon and couldn’t stand it any longer and who has just sopped up the last bloody drippings of a rare hanger steak with a slice of buttered white bread.
today i had a two hour phone consultation with an art coach…her name is pennylane shen, and you can find her here. my expectations were awfully low. unless you are teaching me zone defense, or a pick and roll, or how to shave 1/10 of a second off my time in the 100, i don’t really want to call you “coach.” i have done pretty well as my own cheerleader, strategic planner, and tactical advisor. i didn’t think i needed a coach to tell me a lot of stuff i probably already knew. well, friends, i couldn’t have been more wrong. after two hours i hung up the phone inspired, awed, instructed, and thankful to have been in the company of a crystal clear thinker, who could articulate her ideas in a way that was both honest and inspiring. i am off to plan an artist website, an annual print sample of still blog images, and maybe a book. oh, and probably my next session with “coach.”
the annoying bliss of pink carnation polka dots
i can’t tell what these carnations are trying to say. there’s something insistent about them. they are really really happy, and they sort of want me to know about it. they may want me to know about it more than i actually want to know about it. they may want me to know about it in a way that, innocent and well meaning though it may be, is also just a little bit annoying. they are sort of the jehovah’s witnesses of pink carnation wallpaper. like, i accept that you have found all the answers and are very content about your life choices, but they are probably not my life choices, and really i can’t stand here at the door and listen to you right now. i have to get dinner on the table.
dammit, minnesota winter. you win. you and your fluffy snow. you are very beautiful. there. are you happy now? you look great on hay colored seed heads. no. more than that. you look fabulous. ok? is that what you needed to hear? can we spend a little time apart now?
tall grass seed head with april snow