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November 19, 2015 In appreciation, art, creativity, fine art, history, inspiration, painting, peace By Patricia Saxton

Art and Tragedy: 11 Art Works from 9/11

Recent global events have been a harsh reminder of the savagery that exists in our world and how that brutality can, and does, infiltrate our daily lives. It is far-reaching and unfathomable; its senseless wreaking of horror and devastation is wearisome.

Our hearts ache, we mourn deeply. We are sickened. And yet, we have no choice but to carry on with our lives – life, by nature, urges life – and for us mere mortals, our battle cry might even be to “carry on”, to refuse to live in a state of fear. But we really don’t stop grieving for today’s, yesterday’s, or any tomorrow’s that may carry this awful weight of sorrow, anger and frustration.

And we don’t forget. It’s like a hard line drawn in time: Before and After. Here at home, every time an act of terror succeeds in killing, events from 9/11 come roaring back into our minds, like an unwanted but necessarily indelible imprint.

As such, I’m also reminded how the artists of our time process these events – and I’m particularly reminded of the 9/11 ten-year-anniversay retrospective exhibit I was honored to share with some remarkable artists on September 11, 2011; each artist contributing their awareness of the time as well as contributing to a broader, long-term healing.

Some of the art lifts us, inspires us. Some carries deep symbolism. Some fearlessly ensures we don’t forget. Some recounts and catalogues. Some of the artists are quite well-known, some are not. All are gifted statements and expressions from the heart.

A friend recently suggested I post some of that art again. I can’t say exactly why, but it seemed a good idea. I chose 11 pieces, simply because the number feels right, to honor the artists, and in some way the victims, and all who care to make a difference in this world of ours. (For all artists’ works from the 9/11 retrospective and full descriptions, you can view the online catalogue, here,).

And I say yet another prayer. That good wins. That love wins.

richard

joel

carole

duda

jose1

patricia

ultra

milton

nemat

yoko

jose2

February 20, 2015 In appreciation, art, color, craftsmanship, creativity, design, drawing, fine art, illustration, inspiration, painting, skill By Patricia Saxton

Twelve Months of Flowers

If only it were true. Unless you count holly berries, there’s really not much in the way of floral color during northeastern winter months.

But “Twelve Months of Flowers” can be had via art prints, from the series published in 1730 by renowned British horticulturist and author Robert Furber. Mr. Furber’s name is the one most highly attributed to these exquisite prints, and while I’m grateful that he provided the insight, substantial research and knowledge (and, no doubt, the funds) to produce the collection, I’m mostly interested in the artistry.

Two of these prints hung in our dining room during my growing-up years – one May, one November, the months of my parent’s birthdays. Much admired, they gave a rich, subtle elegance to a modest space (and now that I think of it, may have influenced my own interest in drawing things botanical) ~ but in all those years, strangely, I don’t remember talking about the artist. So I went looking.

I discovered that the meticulously hand-colored engravings were created by English engraver Henry Fletcher, based on the paintings of Flemish-born artist Pieter Casteels, and that Twelve Months of Flowers was originally produced as a gardening guide in catalogue format and sold by subscription. (They also produced an equally stunning second series, Twelve Months of Fruits.) The images were aimed at wealthy landowners interested in growing plants for beauty more than functionality.

Each work is a glorious detail of plants in seasonal bloom, with each plant numbered, and, at the time, a list of the corresponding names. More than 400 plant species were featured. This was no small project. Huge talent. Enormous dedication to both botany and craft.

And so, a few centuries later, I thank them the three of them: Furber, Fletcher and Casteels ~ for their luscious collaboration of study, talent and skill. They are so beautiful, I would even venture to call them a labor of love. But that’s what art is.

February 13, 2015 In art, creativity, fine art, inspiration, life and the universe, poetry, words and language, writing By Patricia Saxton

Some Love & Literary Candy

Two Tulips / © Patricia Saxton

Ah, Cupid, Roman God of Love ~ fickle, passionate, whose darting arrows don’t always hit the target ~ every year on February 14th we celebrate you nonetheless. And we celebrate love: the language of poets, songs of the heart, threads that bind us throughout time, the essence of life itself.

While I can count a few especially thoughtful, and even romantic, Valentine’s Day experiences, yea, well, those went all wrong in the end (beware the man who writes you poetry, a friend once told me…), so instead I turn to the unscathed memories of shared Valentines from grammar school, or the hand-made kindergarten cards we gave to our parents, with big red construction paper hearts and white lace around the edges, filled with unabashed adoration. And those we give our own children, marked with a thousand x’s and o’s.

And yet, despite what might seem a dose of romantic cynicism, I am a true believer. In love. Love is everything. Every task we do, everyone word we utter, every hand we shake, is made better if there’s love in it. Love is the root. Love is the cause. Love is the purpose. Love is all.

So I welcome any reason to honor love. Let sweethearts swoon. Let the day be thick with roses and chocolates for all who’ve ever felt the exultation ~ or the sting ~ from Cupids’ arrows, all who’ve felt their heart swell, their color blush, their energy soar and their selfishness cease.

And with or without a “Valentine”, fill your hearts with love. Love for self, love for others, love for your pets, for your garden, for your books, for your bicycle, for your favorite chair. Even for the guy trying to make a left turn on a busy street. Raise up the heart quotient all around, and feel the peace that settles in when tension is replaced by unbridled love.

Celebrate love. Read some poetic literary candy. Smell a rose. Give someone a cupcake. Smile because love still exists in this mad world.

♥

Love is Not All (Sonnet XXX), Edna St. Vincent Millay

Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink
Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;
Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink
And rise and sink and rise and sink again;
Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,
Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;
Yet many a man is making friends with death
Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
It well may be that in a difficult hour,
Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,
Or nagged by want past resolution’s power,
I might be driven to sell your love for peace,
Or trade the memory of this night for food.
It well may be. I do not think I would.

18th Sonnet, William Shakespeare

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm’d;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43), Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

Love’s Philosophy, Percy Bysshe Shelley

The fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean;
The winds of heaven mix forever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In another’s being mingle–
Why not I with thine?

See, the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister flower could be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea;–
What are all these kissings worth,
If thou kiss not me?

January 28, 2015 In appreciation, art, black and white, craftsmanship, design, fine art, illustration, inspiration, photography, presentation, skill By Patricia Saxton

In Praise of Black and White: Part V

Almost like clockwork, every January I’m reminded of my love for black and white. Maybe it’s the monotones of winter. Maybe it’s the bright white snow against a black sky. Maybe it’s because each year a new Ansel Adams calendar hangs on my studio door.

Whatever it may be, I’ve long been drawn to the beauty of black & white art, going back to the first time I picked up that favorite tool of mine (the #2 pencil) and sensed that magic was held within its lead.

From pencil or pen to the magnificent drama of a fine black & white photograph, I’m captivated by the power and emotional breadth that can be achieved without a spot of color. No distractions. Just character and grace, depth and strength and guts and mood. And like a good story, well done black & white allows your mind to add its own color by filling in what’s left unsaid.

Enjoy!

Jornal da Fotografia

Clare Colins

Michael Rajkovic

Jenő Dulovits, 1935

Gorazd Kranjc

from UltraLinx

Yves Schüpbach

Jeff M for Short / Lifecreations

Patrick Hübschmann

Batman and Robin

by the-definition.deviantart.com

found on The Happy Mango @ pinterest

Nelson Rietzke

source unknown

Joko on 500px

source unknown

source unknown

Andre Kohn

Patricia Saxton

Stéphane Berla

Patricia Saxton / Book of Dragons

source unknown – possibly claudihexlein?

Modwedding

Portrait and wedding photographer East Yorkshire

Ally Byrom

Vishuddha

Michel Rajkovic

source unknown

Please note, I’ve tried to find image sources for all of these images, and sometimes failed. I would love to give proper credit where due, so if you know the original source of any of these labeled “source unknown”, please let me know!

December 24, 2014 In art, creativity, design, fine art, illustration, imagination, inspiration, life and the universe, peace, philosophy By Patricia Saxton

Week 17 : 52 Weeks of Peace / "Peace on Earth"

During this season of hustling and bustling, of bright red bows and snowmen, when angels sing and church bells ring and children listen for reindeer on the roof, I also like to remember what it’s fundamentally about – which, to me, is love, and joy, and peace. And when you find a moment to be still (in my experience, the magic usually takes hold sometime in the evening of December 24), you may actually feel what this holiday yearns for, sings to and praises … Peace on earth; good will towards men.

And wouldn’t it be wonderful if peace could stretch itself across the land beneath our stormy, hopeful skies… and for all of us to feel that peace, in heart and mind and deed. Wouldn’t it be lovely.

November 26, 2014 In appreciation, art, fine art, life and the universe, poetry By Patricia Saxton

Grateful

saxton_gratitude1

They say the only two things you can count on in life are death and taxes. And I suppose there’s some truth to that. But there are other things; things that cost nothing, take nothing, and give much; things deserving of steady gratitude. They’re simple, and yet somehow grand in how they make life more bearable; they make life sweeter. Here are some of those things for me:

The sunrise
that never fails,
And evening skies
with orange trails,
Moss beneath a tree, and
Cathedrals made of leaves.

Children laughing,
Lovers dancing,
Birds announcing dawn.

Poetry and paint,
Seasons and songs, and
Boundless African skies.

Breezes made of lilac,
And honeysuckle,
And great rolling seas,
And angels’ whispers,
And dragons’ wings
That flap against the clouds.

Kind familiar friends,
And hands that hold,
Bodies that heal,
Minds that imagine,
Spirits that soar,
And the grace
Of hearts that love.

– P.Saxton

“I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought;
and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.” ~ G.K. Chesterton

October 7, 2014 In appreciation, art, color, creativity, drawing, fine art, illustration, inspiration, painting, photography, work and play By Patricia Saxton

Fun With Apples

Fruits may very well be one of the most universally painted subjects. Fruits, flowers, landscapes, portraits – all very classic. But fruits in particular, ah … they’re full of delicious secrets, hidden like magic beneath their splendid curves, their dappled, imperfect skins protecting succulent juices dripping with nutrients, new life at their very core. They are marvels. God’s candy. Delivered fresh every season. And to the artist’s eye, something entirely pleasing, century after century.

For me, it’s always been pears and apples. Grapes are nice. Peaches, too. But apples and pears are my favorites. So I delighted in some apple-picking last weekend, and pulling out my handy-dandy iPhone for some on-the-spot shots. And since I’m now an expert, I share with you how to have fun with apples:

First, you go to the farm and walk to the apple orchards. You see your favorite variety (SunCrisps), and just because it’s a beautiful day, stop and take a few pictures. Then you start picking.

Next you take a selfie with your daughter (< insert your own favorite person) (well, she takes the selfie); pick a few more apples, put ’em in the basket, take ’em home.

Then you notice the afternoon sun streaming in lovely ribbons through the kitchen window, grab your camera and shoot a few more shots of your freshly picked produce. Added bonus: you get to eat your prize. All in all, a pretty sweet way to spend an October day. Costs little, inspires much.

But it didn’t end there, because I thought I’d share some apple art into the mix here too. for a real apple fest. Enjoy! : )

April 25, 2014 In appreciation, art, color, communication, creativity, design, drawing, fine art, illustration, imagination, inspiration, life and the universe, philosophy, skill, words and language, work and play By Patricia Saxton

A Plethora of P’s / #70: Pen (and Ink)

proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.

“The pen is mightier than the sword.”

I’ve always liked this quote. It assumes the great power of words, language and intention, which are just a few of my favorite things, along with pens themselves, of course.

[Side note: I’d always assumed this was a line from Shakespeare. Sounds like it ought to be, right? But I was wrong. This is what learned: This line was quoted in 1839 from a play written by Britain’s Edward Bulwer-Lytton, both an Author and Politician of his day. No one remembers the play (Richelieu: or, the Conspiracy) but we’ve all heard the line. Apparently he’s also famous for the opening “It was a dark and stormy night”. I just love learning new things. 🙂 ]

In any event – back to P for pen. This is actually a guest P, created by a friend of mine and presented as a surprise, which truly delighted me. She’d taken a Zendangle course, and this was something she produced. Isn’t it great?! I adore it.

It’s also great because pens have always been an important positive in my own world. I am, in fact, most comfortable with a pen in hand ~ I just think better with a pen in hand. I’m also able to doodle if things are dull on the other side of the table or the other end of the phone, or in meetings, or just as an unconscious release of nervous energy. They’re great for making lists, and of course, for jotting down flashes of brilliance (that may or may not be brilliant on second look). My thoughts flow most easily when writing. As if the connection between mind and hand takes just enough longer than the one from mind to mouth, allowing for a richer expression, rather than a quick one.

Pens and I go way back. As a child I was always drawing and writing. My mother, a poet, was always writing. My parents had fallen in love through letter-writing. Pens were the natural order of things.

Then as my drawing skills developed, I got more and more courageous and soon stepped out of my comfort zone with pencils (which can be erased) to pen and ink (which cannot be erased). This is when I learned, sometimes the hard way, that mistakes a.) happen and b.) are not always remedied, but c.) can sometimes be made into something better. A life lesson from an unlikely source, but a good one I’ve carried with me.

So I, yes, am grateful for pens. And I do believe they are mighty. <3

Here are a few pen and inks from my archives.

(see our ongoing Plethora of P’s here)

April 13, 2014 In appreciation, art, creativity, fine art, imagination, inspiration, life and the universe, work and play By Patricia Saxton

Searching for Buffalo

“Searching for Buffalo” / oil on canvas / Patricia Saxton

Several years ago I’d lost my way, so I ran away from one life, back to myself. Ten days turned into three weeks; three weeks turned into six months. It was probably the best gift I’d ever given myself ~ in essence, permission to do what I love; permission to follow my spirit.

It was a time before I became a mother, before I owned a home, before all the responsibility that comes with those kinds of major territories. I had my business, which I packed up (files, computers, printers) and took with me, along with my two cats, a heart that was tangled up in a very wrong place, and a strong desire to feel good, to spread my wings, to reach higher. It was the right time.

After my initial excitement, I will tell you this: panic set in. Friends had helped me drive across the country to the most magical part of the southwest, where I’d rented an incredible home owned by two artists situated on the edge of a national forest, and after I got settled in, and they left, there I was ~ face to face with nothing but myself, my dreams and the sound of coyote calls in the night. I was there to do something I’d often imagined ~ doing what I loved in a beautiful setting, unhampered by schedules, with no distractions, no blockades, no big worries, and with sudden, deep dread, I thought, “What if I fail?” “What if all this creative passion I’ve felt inside is just a cosmic lark? What if I freeze up, if inspiration doesn’t actually flow? What if I’m just kidding myself?” And the answer was, “Well, you’re about to find out.”

So I went to work doing what I set out to do. Following my instincts. Moving as the spirit moved. Every day I hiked, I swam, I painted, wrote and played the piano. I was a river overflowing. I could hardly keep up with all that ran through my veins, onto the canvas, the paper, the keys.

I made friends who introduced me to healing practices beyond measure, other friends who showed me the back roads. I became intimately engaged with the soft, red, craggy earth and rocks that loomed high above and all around. I ran with the open sky, I searched for buffalo, and I discovered a warrior inside.

There has never been any turning back from this experience. Bumps in the road, absolutely. Hard times, sure. All the stuff of life. But I can go back to this place in my mind at will. I can feel the warm rock beneath my back, the big sky above. I can recall the warrior. I can pull up the magic. And most importantly of all, I can know what’s possible if we give it permission.

November 30, 2013 In appreciation, art, fine art, illustration, inspiration, painting, poetry By Patricia Saxton

Day is Done

The Day is Done
BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.

I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o’er me
That my soul cannot resist:

A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.

Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,
And banish the thoughts of day.

Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time.

For, like strains of martial music,
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life’s endless toil and endeavor;
And to-night I long for rest.

Read from some humbler poet,
Whose songs gushed from his heart,
As showers from the clouds of summer,
Or tears from the eyelids start;

Who, through long days of labor,
And nights devoid of ease,
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies.

Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.

Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.

And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.

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