green orchard

10

Everything you can imagine is real…

I was going through my paintings tag and these have to be my top ten favourite paintings I have painted so far in no particular order. A few of them I did last year, some a few months ago.

I hope to do more over the summer if I can, maybe do a Maggie one. I think that one may be next on my list.

Go Forth & Set The World On Fire

October & everything comes alive. My blood ferments with the dust of a thousand roses; flows like a newborn river.

Everyone always remarks on eye color. Hair. The softness of a smile. But for me, it begins with a wrist. A porcelain wrist in a gray room barely larger than a broom closet. Bayesian probability on a whiteboard.

Slowly, it comes to be about the other things too. Hair. The softness of a smile. The sound of a full laugh. The cuff of a sleeve. A black coat and a khaki one, movies and songs. Books I read on my own, books I’m required to read. Walking to the subway, dark chocolate & dinners.

May & the rain has brought flowers. My blood ribbons through the canyons, scaling the sour red walls of my heart.

Everyone always remarks on what is learned. But the most important things are not taught.

I bid goodbye. Scotland is calling, and she must go, and I must let her. And maybe somewhere from a castle, she’ll look across the high seas, and wonder where divine providence will lead next, what new presents will bring.

September & I, just another foolish girl,
freshly wine stained at twenty one,
will be in New York City for one last year
without her.

I will always tell them that the Empire State gave me the brightest sunrise of my life. They will look through my journals, my scrapbooks, my photos, and ask me about the memories. I will tell them about the hope & the fear, the ugly & the beautiful. And I will tell them, of course, that I once knew an angel who went by a name that meant ‘Beloved.’

I will tell them there was a wretched time before the gates opened. Before I treaded the golden green orchard of my mind; before I plucked the fruits of the examined life. A time before I deliberated over the free & the determined, the ideal & the real.

I will tell them of the faith instilled by the Angel of the Beloved, and they will try to understand, but they will never quite decipher the grand inferno forever flowering within me.

But know this: it is her spirit alone that drives the flames; & in the tradition of the saints, I know no other way than to go forth and set the world on fire.

Anne’s House of Dreams. L M. Montgomery. New York: Frederick A. Stokes, 1917. First Stokes edition. Original dust jacket. Dust jacket art, cover paste-on, and frontis illustrated by M. L. Kirk.

The book begins with Anne and Gilbert’s wedding, which takes place in the Green Gables orchard. After the wedding, they move to their first home together, which Anne calls their “house of dreams.”

Words. Was it their colours? He allowed them to glow and fade, hue after hue: sunrise gold, the russet and green of apple orchards, azure of waves, the grey-fringed fleece of clouds. No, it was not their colours: it was the poise and balance of the period itself. Did he then love the rhythmic rise and fall of words better than their associations of legend and colour? Or was it that, being as weak of sight as he was shy of mind, he drew less pleasure from the reflection of the glowing sensible world through the prism of a language many-coloured and richly storied than from the contemplation of an inner world of individual emotions mirrored perfectly in a lucid supple periodic prose?
—  A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, James Joyce
4

“LLO Logo Design”

This logo design is something that I’ve been working on off and on for the past few weeks. A small-town, traditional business, LLO is an apple orchard offering seasonal services and in need of a permanent logo that can be applied across multiple platforms and promotional materials.

I wanted to keep this design simple and steer the color scheme away from the traditional red and green orchard combination (too Christmas-y), aiming instead for something more modern and versatile, keeping in mind the product (apples, primarily), the company name, and the company values (small-town traditional, modern, but not too edgy). What do you think?

“The phrase and the day and the scene harmonized in a chord. Words. Was it their colours? He allowed them to glow and fade, hue after hue: sunrise gold, the russet and green of apple orchards, azure of waves, the greyfringed fleece of clouds. No it was not their colours: it was the poise and balance of the period itself. Did he then love the rhythmic rise and fall of words better than their associations of legend and colour? Or was it that, being as weak of sight as he was shy of mind, he drew less pleasure from the reflection of the glowing sensible world through the prism of a language manycoloured and richly storied than from the contemplation of an inner world of individual emotions mirrored perfectly in a lucid supple periodic prose?”

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

Happy Bloomsday!