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Self Portraits
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an infrequent repository of mostly new stuff
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T finished up 38 pieces of art for a show that opens Friday. We delivered everything on Sunday. It’s a really great body of work that’s been underway for most of the past six months. She was quite the dynamo in a fit of creative fervor.
I’ll post more updates here of the opening and the final gallery space over the coming weeks.
Here’s a blog post she just published of some background. Since the onset of COVID, when we had a lot of time and nowhere to go, she cut nearly 10,000 circles of paper. By hand. Some of those are now included in four pieces in the show.
We had a nice trip over the mountain to Staunton, one of our favorite nearby towns. And a very nice gallery space, too. They’ve posted info about the show here, featuring some of T’s work in the poster:
direct YouTube link: https://youtu.be/VJ306yMVaLs
A nice reprieve from the middle of winter. This is 20+ minutes of sites and sounds from the salt marshes of Mathews County, Virginia. A week on a remote barrier island in the Chesapeake Bay. Over the holidays I had time to go back and review it.
We spent a lot of time kayaking through the shallow winding creeks, often just drifting with the current.
It’s long, so give yourself some time, and good audio – much of this is just the natural sounds of birds and beaches.
The odd noises starting at 12:00 are Clapper Rails. They’re really shy, I’ve never seen one up close, but one stepped out of the grass for a closeup, not realizing we were standing above it on the dock.
Birds seen and/or heard in the video:
At night, there were Great Horned Owls, in the mornings Loons.
The past two nights have been clear for watching the Geminids meteor shower. Last night was great, with lots of bright ones coming in rapid succession. The kind that make you catch your breath.
Tonight was far less dramatic, but also less frigid, so I took a chair and sat out in the back field until my feet got numb. All the best ones seemed to fall outside the camera frame, opposite where I had it pointed. No matter, I was there for the show. But did get one nice shot when distant car lights swept the tree line, with one faint star trail just visible.
One should need fewer reasons to sit quietly in the dark, gazing up into the night sky.
The outboard on the skiff died, the one that ferries us over. Her father, the waterman, boat builder, sawmiller, got it running again.
“Go on over,” he said around a cigarette, “if you get stuck I’ll come get ya. “
She took our old friends across the marsh. I followed behind, paddling against the breeze that rattled through the sawgrass
A few weeks ago I posted photos from this little trip. I woke up before sunrise and couldn’t go back to sleep, so went for a paddle on Totier Creek.
There was steam rising off the water as the sun came up, a little chilly, but I had the whole place to myself. Just a glorious fall day. Leaves in peak color, glassy calm water, birds singing. So worth it.
Back up the creek I came across some Wood Ducks. They’re shy birds, and this was the first time I’ve seen one up close in the wild here. Even got a little video to prove it.
I could use a lot more of this, please.
The moon was full and bright last night. From the porch I could see it clearly through the trees for the first time since last Spring.
In the morning the maples had dropped all their leaves, now piled around their ankles like crimson silk slips or night gowns, bare arms outstretched to the sky.
I’m sure the moon had something to do with it.
Yesterday and today were in the 80s, and the wind blew all day. By afternoon the color was gone, dry leaves swirling across the lawn into eddies on porches and shrubs.
Tomorrow it will get down into the low 20s, first hard freeze of the season. One last hurrah before winter.