time of yellow and gold

while this is not a strict rule, the leaves do somewhat turn color in waves: reds, yellows, oranges, russets. This of course, depends entirely, on the trees in your environment. where i live, in the twin cities, i have a lot of sumac, maples, oaks, elms, ashes, and birches. every year is unique. although patterns emerge.

collection of yellow autumn leaves

busy busy

i am not someone who prides myself on being busy. not at this age. at this age i pride myself on having enough control of my time and my calendar to not get overly busy without good reason. but right now, i have good reason. i am in the final edits of my book with my publisher. there is a lot of hurried back-and-forth as we push toward final production. so even thought today was a picture-perfect autumn day in minnesota, i did not get out for a walk. when that happens, i turn to my desktop debris. it never gets old. and it’s always pretty.

don’t remove the poetry

jumping the seasonal gun here with this image that is giving off winter vibes. it’s still very much autumn yet. don’t worry. but i have a commission to do some new images using pine cones and evergreens, so my studio (aka kitchen) floor is loaded with them. and this little trio caught my attention for its ability to evoke a whole season with just three tiny bits. it reminds me of one of my favorite quotes:

“Pare down to the essence, but don’t remove the poetry.”  ― Leonard Koren

evergreen tip, crabapples, and a pinecone

i need more passion

i couldn’t let such a magnificent subject go by without at least one more portrait.

passion flowers (Passiflora)

on gifting

As a child, I never felt fully understood. I was a tomboy in a household of girly-girls. My mom was homecoming queen. And my sister was captain of the cheerleading squad. I wanted to wear clothes that were comfortable and that I could play in. I wanted to build forts. Play sports. And don’t even think about giving me a doll for my birthday.  Nevertheless, they tried to dress me up, curl my hair, wear make-up, and I kept fighting. I wasn’t being rebellious. I just wasn’t that kid.

So when my friend Madeline gifted me her passion flower vine a few days ago, I finally felt seen. Here was a perfect gift for me. She was potting up her vines to bring indoors for the winter, and gifted me a mature vine with multiple buds just about to open.

On the Five Love Languages test, “gifts” are my lowest scoring love language. And I am not surprised. After a lifetime of receiving gifts for the girl I never was, I eventually lost my taste for them. Birthdays still make me anxious to this day. But it turns out, there are a few weirdos like me who know just what I want.

passion flower (Passiflora)