hanging by a thread

there are times in life when things have been difficult for a while, and you suspect that they are about to turn around for the better, and then they not only don’t turn around for the better, they accelerate in the wrong direction. our recent mid-March snowfall that added another 4 or 5 inches to the almost 60 inches that have already fallen was one of those moments. we are all hanging by a thread around here.

dried paperwhite narcissus stem

peacefully curled

i immediately associated this arrangement with peacefulness and a sort of lovingly motherly embrace. the more i looked at it the more i realized i could equally have seen it as something tentacled or snakelike or writhing, and i am trying to understand whether there is something about the energy of the curves of these leaves that is intrinsically peaceful, or whether i am bringing something to the image from my own personal associations. sometimes an image is a kind of telepathy, where you intuit what i’m trying to say without my having to say it, and we meet in the space of the image together. but sometimes an image is something i make that you interpret in your own entirely different way.

dried and curled wild iris leaves in winter

seedpods!

the other day, my daughter texted me a photo of some gumnuts she had come across on her college campus with the caption “seeeeeeedpodsssssssss!” the expression is now a family joke. once, while sightseeing in southern france, i eyed some lunaria seedpods hanging over a stone wall on the other side of small but busy street. i shrieked at the sight of the beautiful seeds, and involuntarily squealed “seedpods!” at top volume, before absentmindedly stepping out into traffic to collect my pot of gold. “seedpods!” is now  vernacular shortcut for “you’re weird mom, but we love you!”. and like all good jokes, there is a seed of truth in it. pun intended.

seedpod collection gathered on travels over seven years

a reluctant letting go

my daughter is making her plans to study abroad in paris next quarter. she is sending emails in french to paris design firms trying to get internships, while picking out the specific fabric bag that will hold her macbook both stylishly and practically on the streets. i am simultaneously advising her, and learning to let her go.

copy. flip. repeat.

wondering how manipulated an image can be and still be a STILL blog image. i think this one still qualifies, although i did play with it fairly extensively. i like how it almost seems to move, like a kaleidoscope, if you stare at it long enough. maybe this is what happens during a very long winter, when you’ve been staring at dried grasses for too long, and you have just barely begun to lose your mind…

winter weed stems