Challenges

A-Z Challenge (again): R (whoops & S)

I’m back again for another round of A-Z challenge but, wanting to add a personal challenge to the challenge, I am going to concentrate on signs this time – pretty signs, interesting signs, funny signs … whatever.

Visby, Gotland

Visby, Gotland

restaurant sign Stockholm

Stockholm

Warnemunde, Germany

Warnemunde, Germany

Now for S

wooden shoe Kinderdijk

Kinderdijk, Holland

sign narberth Wales

Narberth, Wales

Mevagissey street sign

Mevagissey, Cornwall

Standard
Visual Arts

New Pastel

It feels good to be back in the studio  …

Stage 1

Pastel art

Stage 1

Stage 2 … haven’t ruined it yet

pastel art

Stage 2

Stage 3 Done or close to it … gotta stop before I ruin it … though that bank of trees on the left is too uniform …
Had to change the structure of the painting – original layout wasn’t strong enough

pastel art

Final – or close to it

Standard
Challenges

A-Z Challenge (again): P (whoops & Q)

I’m back again for another round of A-Z challenge but, wanting to add a personal challenge to the challenge, I am going to concentrate on signs this time – pretty signs, interesting signs, funny signs … whatever.

sign at Solva woolen mill Wales

Solva Woolen Mill, Solva, Wales

sign in book store Hay on Wye Wales

Sign in antique book store, Hay-on-Wye, Wales

sign in Devon

Devon, England

Newspaper office in Stanley, Falkland Islands

Newspaper office in Stanley, Falkland Islands

Nyhavn, Copenhagen

Nyhavn, Copenhagen

Pwllgwaelod, Wales

Pwllgwaelod, Wales

Now for Q

08 Quai Hector Malo La Bouille nr Rouen pixlr hd

St. Malo, Brittany

DSCN5339 Martintown mill SL 8x6

Martintown Mill, Ontario

 

Standard
Write it Now

Mirror, Mirror

 

Ewin badgebook: 365 writing prompts:  July 5 Mirror Mirror

I stood with coffee in hand, and reached for a picture. I studied an image of myself.  A few wisps of dark hair were twisted into a curl at the top of my head, fat gathered like bracelets around my wrists, fat, sturdy legs and chubby cheeks.  I was sitting up unaided.

“I must have been about nine months …” I said to no one. “This was probably the first photo taken of me.”

I tried to relate this image to the person I see in the mirror now.

My thick, grey hair is cropped short in an effort to control the natural curl and tendency to frizz in humid weather.  My full eyebrows can be unruly as they also tend to curl, like my father’s.  Crow’s feet have been etched around my eyes, a permanent scowl line has settled between my eyebrows from squinting in the sun of many summers and at the print on the page that continues to get smaller and smaller.  The fold lines running from my nose to my mouth are testament to the general sag that is creeping to all parts of my body.   It is not the face in the black and white image I hold in my hand; neither is it the face I think I should be looking at, that of me as a thirty-something.  It was sometime around then that the speed of time and bad decisions fractured my life.   Where were all the in betweens?

Standard
Write it Now

Mrs. Peacock’s Doll

 

Ewin badgebook: 365 writing prompts:  June 20 – Moment of Kindness

Going on an outing with my grandmother, just the two of us, was unusual, which is perhaps why I remember it.

On this particular occasion we were on a mission of mercy, off to the home of a bedridden friend.  Granny led me by the hand as we approached the door.  I loved the feel of her.  Once lauded for her beauty, her skin was now soft with age and scented with a veil of lavender.  Her tiny mouth could lift into the sweetest smile and her long hair swept softly up resting lightly on the top of her head was her crowning glory.

“Why are we here?” I asked.

“My friend hasn’t been feeling well and I want to stop in and say hello.  I’d like you to just sit quietly while we have a short visit.”  She looked down at me with that sweet smile.  “Can you do that for me?”

‘What’s her name?”

“Mrs. Peacock.”

Mrs. Peacock.  Mrs. Peacock.   The sound of her name danced a jig in my head as my grandmother opened the door and we stepped into the room.  Granny dropped my hand and stepped closer to the bed in greeting.

“Say hello, Lynne.”

I looked up at my grandmother and back to Mrs. Peacock.  “Hello.”

The lady ensconced in the four-poster bed was surely very old.  A mere wisp of a woman, her tiny frame barely lifted the bed covers.  She gave me a weak smile. Her eyes managed to smile too.  Her face framed with neat curls of snow white hair was pleasant enough.  I judged she had more wrinkles than my grandmother and I wondered what was wrong with her, but was too timid to ask.  Granny leaned over to place a kiss on Mrs. Peacock’s cheek. Understanding I wouldn’t learn the answer to my unasked question, my attention waned and my gaze strayed about the room. Their conversation faded into the background, absorbed by the thick and patterned rug beneath my feet.  A single window let sunlight flicker across the walls of the well furnished room.  The night table by the bed held her essentials and high atop the polished highboy sat her few chosen photographs in pewter and silver frames.  Then my eyes slid to a stop at a shelf high on the wall.  There, beside the books, sat a doll.  And such a lovely doll.  Her porcelain-like features were painted delicately on the felt that was her skin.

“Look, Marion, she sees the doll.  Let her play with it while we visit.”

Granny’s hand reached up, lifted her from the shelf and placed her in my outstretched arms.  There was a tear in the felt where her straw stuffing poked through but I moved her arms and legs as I continued to be captivated by the little ruby lips and the bright blue eyes.   My fascination lasted throughout the visit but when Granny began to say her goodbye I reluctantly held the doll out for her to place back upon the shelf.

“No, Marion.  Let her keep it,” said Mrs. Peacock.  “I’d like her to have it.”  She would really give me this doll?  I drew the doll to my chest and cast a shy but wide-eyed glance in her direction and we exchanged a smile of understanding.

 

Standard
weekly photo challenge

Lost

As I took this photo of the interior of a shop, the child walked into the frame, appearing ghost-like in the developed image.  I have enhanced it slightly  and it strikes me as a good book  cover for a novel about anyone who is lost, either physically or figuratively.

DSCN3191 Katariini Kaik Tallinn SL 8X6 with titleBelow is the original image

DSCN3191 orig 8x6

The weekly photo challenge is: Cover Art

Standard
weekly photo challenge

Angel

“Monsters will always exist. There’s one inside each of us. But an angel lives there, too. There is no more important agenda than figuring out how to slay one and nurture the other.” – Jacqueline Novogratz

DSCN0725

 

This is the original photo, taken through the windshield while driving at night.

DSCN0725

This week’s photo challenge is: Refraction

Standard
Fine Art Photography, Verse, weekly photo challenge

Illusions I Recall

I looked upon the simple tree and there I saw the symbols that showed the way. I was rooted there in awe.
Yet the answers they held eluded me, its limbs so twisted and crossed. This time and place, it wasn’t mine.  I turned away; I’m lost.

digital art photo editing fantasy

The weekly photo challenge is: Dreamy

Standard