A New Year's Resolution and Shades of Winter

January 1st has come and gone, 2011 has begun. I don't like to make New Year's resolutions because they can be so disappointing if not kept. And, what if something more interesting presented itself? I approach starting a new basket the same way. Usually I have an idea before I start weaving, but I often modify it as I work. The shape may suggest a different pattern, or an unexpected color combination could set me off in a new direction, so I give myself permission to see where it will lead me. (My training was in ceramics, but I prefer the flexibility in weaving baskets.)

.

After a busy fall and all the comings and goings of the holidays, I'm looking forward to a quiet January. The soft shades in this Bridgewater, CT lake and the clear colors in Sarah's photo from Chicago make me want to weave. I want to design something so that I can play with these color combinations.

A few days ago I came across this birch tree. The bark's natural beauty and complexity exceeds human design. It made me think about working in textured papers and fabric, but it also made me feel humble about calling myself an artist. I want to go back and study it in different light and marvel at it's beauty. It's hard to explain, but framing these photos and then being able to appreciate all the layers and patterns in a two dimensional format is more exciting to me than going to most of the museums I've ever been to.

Contemplating the colors in the above seascapes touches me emotionally, and being able to appreciate the textures in this bark reminds me I am but a small part of something greater. As an artist and naturalist, I will try to share and preserve the beauty of what I see around me. This will be my New Year's resolution.

Color and Textures in Norway

I spent the first week of August week in the mountains southeast of Tronheim, Norway. Then we took the train to Oslo and later drove down the coast to the island.

Imagine this as the driveway leading up to your house - beautiful isn't it? This was what we saw as we approached the cabins. It's a 45 minute hike up the mountain from the logging road where we left the car. The group of buildings was built by my grandfather and another man 80 years ago. There was no electricity, or indoor plumbing. We cooked on an iron stove and used candles and kerosene lamps for light in the evenings. It was heaven.

The cabins were built on a small rise just above where the evergreens stopped growing and the birch trees took over. Blueberries, cloudberries, orchids, and ferns grew in profusion. The subtle colors and textures took my breath away.