Everglades, ever glorious

Everglades = swamp = glorious

We drove through the Everglades Monday, from Miami to Cape Coral on I-75.
Shortly after I took the photo above, the grass turned to cypress swamp, tall trees with trunks that get plump where they meet the earth. Cypress are coniferous, but they are denuded in winter. I drew them as we passed through.

Flower Series 6: Success??

Bright flowers
12" x 12"
acrylic

I planned a series of quilts inspired by flowers, mandalas and the Brazilian artist Beatriz Milhazes. Months later I have a stack of acrylic paintings. One is a mandala, all have flowers, and  I see Milhazes in their layers and colors. My niece Gretchen got me started painting a pineapple for her. Since then I've painted on cotton, drew with stitch, and collaged with fabric and paint. But there is no series as planned.

Instead, I'm on a discovery trail and loving it. 

1. For inspiration, give me flowers -- they are more than mere petals and stems!
2. And give me paint to mess with. Yesterday I read about an artist who paints with his fingers, wearing plastic gloves. I'm more of a natural mess; I love my fingers all gooey with colors. (Paintbrushes also have a place. ) For me, precision is in the feel of the finished piece, not perfection according to plan. I must discover a way to make messy quilts, with undefined edges 
3. For now  I'll skip "meaningful" (or political) work. The world is such a tumble, but direct defiance is not my best response. (Embracing causes has not worked for me,  in either religion or journalism. Or art.)
4. I'm going to continue painting and sewing and looking and loving. Flowers and paint are not the end. They are leading me somewhere.

Eyes wide open: Panacea & Phipps Park

If it looks like a beginner drew these, that's right. These are "assignments" from the great Susan Shie drawing class I took online last month. I'm going to keep on drawing! It suits my voyeuristic inclinations. 

Panacea, FL, is an unincorporated community that shows a rather tacky public face and keeps its sudden beauty quiet. Down a sandy road, past untended yards and simple houses needing paint, you can drive straight into a heavenly bay. Hoist a sail upon your car and you will soon be in the Gulf of Mexico.

 The story is that a Yankee bought some land here after the Civil War and named it Panacea, trading on the supposed healing powers of nearby springs. The name stuck, although they say a few old-timers refuse to use it, even today. 

Now some people want to make Panacea an incorporated city. But that is far from a sure thing. Florida House Bill 593 would allow the residents to vote on whether to be incorporated or not. The bill unanimously passed one House subcommittee in March, but it has two more committees to go. There are those who say it wouldn't be right, because some landowners live elsewhere, so they can't vote here. Others say the residents should control their destiny--especially their miles of coastline. 

 Panacea's population is about 800. The signs that are going up on lawns and in stores around town say: "Yes. Panacea Incorporation. Opportunity. Self-government. No New Regulations/Taxes" and also a great big NO sign over the words "Panacea Incorporation."

Zing! and I like to run in Phipps Park. We take the same trail every time, yet it's always new. We had not seen a butterfly all winter. This is the first of the season. Sometimes we go the whole way without seeing another dog or human. This day this man didn't see us. He was lost in a book. 

Working small with watercolor

Leslie gave a great mini-workshop on watercolor last month, and she got me thinking ... There's something, well, watery, about the paint that I don't like ...  but ...  maybe I just don't understand how to use it. But I can splash around, and that's what I did last week. I used metallic paint and Setacolor pabeo gold glitter finish, which turned some into 4" x 6" Christmas cards. Fun.