Determination

The lady bug was such fun to watch! She just slowly kept going and going, and while it looked as if she were merely marching along the stems, I know she was eating that nasty nemesis of gardeners everywhere... aphids.

If you look carefully you can see them in this picture, sucking the life out of my plants. But thank goodness we have the determined ladybugs to feast on them and keep them from robbing us too badly.

My grandma, who must surely have been one of the most patient people God ever made, cheerfully answered my questions. I remember being fascinated with ladybugs and asking her (probably a hundred times if the family fables are true) "how does she get her spots and what do they mean?" and "how come she flies with those silky black wings instead of her pretty one?" and so on. Probably ad nauseum.

I remember chanting together, my voice high and piping, hers wavery and dear, the old rhyme...

Lady bug, lady bug, fly away home!
Your house is on fire, your children are burning!

Funny how the sight of that lone determined ladybug brought back so many happy memories of my sweet grandma and the unflinching quality of perseverance they shared.

Looking up

Life's been rather full of challenges lately and my bright outlook on life has been a matter of determination at times.

Today out on my walk I spied this pot of nasturtiums, sitting on a post bold as a stop sign. I took it as an opportunity to remember that at times it's wise to pause a moment, count my blessings and simply look up and find the rainbow in the middle of my storm. Maybe there are clear skies ahead.

So that's my thought for today. Look up! There's a bright spot of hope if one will just trust and keep looking for it. Even, and maybe especially, when disappointment and challenge make me want to do otherwise.

Fresh paint

Hurrah for fresh paint! The kitchen is finally finished, the last drop of paint dried. And when Russell applied the last brush stroke in the kitchen, he didn't stop there, but went on to paint the bathroom as well.

I celebrated with new glassware for the kitchen and today I'm planning for some lovely plain white IKEA plates and a bath rug.

There's just nothing like fresh paint to give you a lift!

An ecstasy of blue

I almost killed my hydrangeas pruning them this year.

Not on purpose, you understand, it's just that I must have been a bit overzealous or something.

Last spring when the skies were a gorgeous shade of cerulean I took a break to walk around the garden admiring the leaves and blossoms. Imagine my dismay when I noticed the hydrangeas looking decidedly barren of the usual verdant glossy leaves.

"Shoot, this time I've gone too far."

" Who are you talking to?" Russell wants to know.

A few months ago I'd butchered the bushes with the pruning shears, now here I was talking to myself out loud.

"I wrecked the hydrangeas," I tell him.

"Oh, Sharyn, they'll grow back," he says. "You worry too much."

He knows me rather well. They have grown back and I do worry too much.

The days have flown past, with me running along like a video on fast-forward.

Here we are at the height of summer and yesterday when doing the botanical ramble again, I had to admit he's right. Just look at those blossoms.

I stood there for about ten minutes admiring the blue that dips to a pale cream. My neighbor must have wondered why I was standing in the front yard grinning as if I'd just won the lottery and snapping way more photos than necessary.

But how could I not?

Truly we are surrounded by miracles.

Gently curving lines

Do you prefer straight lines or those that bend?

When I uploaded some photos I'd snapped of the stray pea plants along the river I fell in love with those images immediately.

What is it I find so pleasing about these flowers? I wondered. Then it occurred to me... It's the gentle bend in the lines. There's hardly a straight line in view. Even the stems have a slight curve I find enormously appealing.

Straight lines seem so harsh, by their very nature firm and unwilling to... well, to bend!

Whether it's people whose minds are rigid and inflexible or images whose stiffness is unrelenting, I find myself repelled by them.


How much nicer the soft sway in lines like those I found in the wild peas by the river. They pleased my eyes as I jogged by, inviting me to stop for a sniff, admire the shades of purple blending into violet, and snap a photo I would find compelling.

Today I'll remind myself to keep both eyes and mind wide open to the curls and curves, the gentle bends and bobs of the world around me. I love the way nature is almost never completely straight.

Natural colors

"How on earth am I ever going to choose?" I muttered, hunched over the PMS swatchbook, trying hard to whittle down my color selections to a mere three greens and two reds, picking out the shades for the next holiday giftware selections. And never mind choosing just a few cream-and-beiges, three browns and the perfect gray.

If you're an artist, you know the agony. If you're not, don't pass judgement on me... you can't imagine how hard it is to limit one's color choices.

"Keep your palette limited," echoed Anne's voice in my head, as I remembered her advising her watercolor students one day when I'd tagged along to a class at Daniel Smith. "Too many colors muddy your painting and confuse the eye."

I know she's right, but with so many beautiful shades in the rainbow picking out colors can be harder than going to the pound, where all those big brown, liquid eyes silently beg, "Choose me! Choose me! I'm a good one!"

So out to the garden I wandered, swatchbook in hand, eyeing the amazing bounty of blooms and berries until I found the perfect holiday palette. Currants dangling from frail stems, bobbing gently in the breeze, the quintessential holiday colors right in the middle of summer's glory.

With just a flick of the swatches my choices were made and I ran indoors to enter them on the computer. Whew! Next year when that holiday gift collection is sitting on the shelf and someone asks me the perennial question, "Where do you get all your ideas?" I think I can be pardoned for a giggle.

"You just never know!" I'll laugh.

Raspberry Weather

It's July, and in the Northwest we're enjoying a lovely spate of what I call Raspberry Weather.

Deliciously warm at last, and the garden smells faintly of roses and raspberries drenched in the sun.

My husband and I wander out to the raspberry patch in the morning to graze for breakfast.

This has been The Year of the Diet for me, as I've had to be terribly careful of every calorie thanks to the need for a drug that causes weight gain, something I'm determined to avoid at all costs.

But thank goodness for the delightful juicy berries that decorate the bright green leaves with fuchsia! They taste as divine as they look. One can gorge on these delectable jewels without ever a thought about violating the Thousand Calorie Rule. I stuff myself with luxury, grin and laugh. And eat another one. Or two. Or three.

Hurrah for July and Raspberry Weather! If there's anything nicer, I don't know what it could be.

Poppies

"What inspires you?" she asked the question everyone wants to know. "Where on earth do you get your ideas?"

I laugh like always. The problem isn't finding an idea but finding time to work on them all. The ideas pop up faster than the weeds in my garden and trust me, that's fast.

My daily exercise walks have been my best inspiration lately. I usually tuck a bit of paper and a pencil in my pocket alongside the digital camera which is my almost-constant companion on these forays. Today I thought I'd share with you the inspiration and a peek at the results.

The poppies thrive at the corner of the garden maintained by an elderly couple alongside the river. Their garden is a tiny one with just enough room for a cherry tree and these poppies and bachelor buttons beneath it. A postage stamp size plot on the other side of the grass near the kitchen door holds a few chives, a parsley plant and a lush basil plant. A small flag snaps neatly in the breeze and a pair of white metal chairs wait nearby on the porch. On occasion when I pass, we chat a bit and I admire their blooms while they pat my beagle on the head and share the weather report or news of their grandchildren. Ours is a neighborly country town and we still enjoy the simple pleasures of a summer afternoon.

Yesterday I snapped a handful of photos, sketched a wee bit, and rushed home for my scissors. Snip, snip, snip! And the poppies bloom from paper...

Roadside inspiration

Between the bees humming in patches of wild blackberry and the perfume of an abandoned heirloom rose climbing over a tumbled-down fence, I had a great deal of difficulty making my daily run yesterday.

It's not that the running was tough, but the distractions were impossible. How can anyone run past glories like this? Especially with a camera in one's hand.

"It's just to gather reference material," I tell myself. But I'm lying.

The truth is I snap gazillions of photos because I can't bear to forget the fleeting beauties that overflow every common roadside. Whether you're in the heart of Manhattan or the woods of Minnesota, miracles abound. And I don't want to forget a single one.

Real life is the best fairy tale

Did you notice I've been incommunicado? I've been off having delicious adventures! But now I'm home and can share all the juicy details.

Delta whisked me to Kansas City, where I felt like Dorothy, having been dropped into a land of make believe. First a limo (yes, a real limo!) gave me a lift to Hallmark. My new friend Wendy gave me a tour of that wonderful company, and I do believe I could disappear into the library there and live forever happy. I secretly had my fingers crossed the whole time, making fervent wishes to work with them more and more, they are so kind and imaginative. Hurrah for Hallmark!

Just when the fun at Hallmark came to an end, I began a most amazing four day treat. Who knew meetings could be so memorable! I'm almost speechless, and those who know me best understand I am NEVER speechless. Demdaco is the most amazing company I've ever had the privilege of working with.

Every moment was more wondrous than the one before... it was almost like summer camp for a group of dedicated artists, and we enjoyed a color trend seminar with a charming colorist who just retired from Benjamin Moore, private tour of the new Nelson Atkins Art Museum, gallery tours, dinners galore, and (oh my goodness, I practically swooned!) plenty of time to look over the new products we designed.

I can't say much or it will give away the Christmas surprise, but it's just my style, pure & simple. If you like my art, you'll enjoy the garlands & stockings, tree toppers and kitchen ware.

I'm trying to avoid rambling on and gushing, but it's almost impossible today. The photo shows me with Kallie, a very dear new friend who proved an invaluable resource along with her boss, Linda, as we have worked on the holiday collection. Kallie is as beautiful as she is smart.

After Kansas City, I winged my way to the Big Apple for meetings, and while my feet may have touched down at home again, my heart has not. I am back in my own dear studio again but my heart is still soaring after so much inspiration and kindness.

Once again I have tested and proven my motto: Real life is the best fairy tale!

Finding an island of calm

Life has been so wild lately! The studio is a chaos of tumbled bits of paper, scribbled notes, mock-ups in various stages, scraps of sketches tacked up on the wall and even contracts littered with sticky note reminders...

A huge overload of work is a true blessing and my heart is more thankful than words can say. But still... at 3am laying awake making mental lists or an hour before an unfinished deadline one can get a nasty knot in the stomach.

I'm learning how important it is to find an island of calm, to keep spiritually alive & well, to hold fast to priorities. You see, I have this goal of becoming a wise person in the truest sense of the word.

So I am holding fast to that island of calm as the days rush past and the life becomes a delicate balancing act. It's a quality of peace I hope shows up in my work.

Delectable color palettes from my garden

It was my last week teaching art to the elementary students at my local school district and I'd invited the children to ask any questions they had.

"Um, I'd like to know... I mean I've always wondered..."

A blush bloomed on Emily's face. The eleven year old coltish beauty was at that awkward not-quite-a-child, not-yet-a-grownup stage.

"What I'm really asking is how do you choose your colors?"

Have you, like Emily, wondered the same thing? Have you struggled choosing a color palette, or wondered where artists get theirs?

I can't vouch for anyone but myself, but for me the best inspirations come from the garden just beyond the studio windows.

There the blueberries ripen gently, suggesting I try shades of indigo and sap green. Columbine and foxglove, sweet peas and basil. Leggy tomatoes, rosy berries and brilliant poppies. It's an endless rainbow of colors so gorgeous it could only have been planned by God himself. Even the weeds are inspiration.

Today I wandered, camera in hand, as I so often do, snapping photos to supply me with enough ideas to last a very long time. But greedy me, I'll be out with the sketchbook or camera, feeding my eyes and my imagination again tomorrow.

The garden beckons me every day, rain or shine, and especially now when it's at its best. Hurrah for a garden full of luscious color palettes and rich with ideas!