WILD BLACKBERRIES

Blackberries ripening in the sun is one of my favorite scents of summer.  When DH and I were newly married and with a brand new baby, we lived in Tacoma, Washington.  There wild blackberries flourished to epidemic proportions in every untended open space.  And since the only income we had was U.S. government soldier pay; free fruit, even if it grew on wicked brambles, was welcome.  Just a few steps from our apartment near Fort Lewis were all the blackberries I could stand to pick.  The fresh ones went on cereal and ice cream and then there was homemade blackberry pie—wow!

Most of my paintings are inspired by vacations or pleasant memories.  So when I came across photos I took of blackberry bushes in the lush green forests of northern Washington I decided to use them as a subject of a painting.

I worked out a composition sketch and transferred it to heavy watercolor paper.  I masked out the berries and then washed the whole area with shades of green.

Then I began to add layers of darker greens and browns to bring out the details of the thick undergrowth.

After bringing the moss, branches and leaves into focus I removed the masking from the berries and went to work on them.

The final painting size 11x14 inches

It’s always fun to see how complementary colors such as red and green seem to pop when placed next to each other and how analogous colors such as blue and green are harmonious and soothing.

 

I only wish there were a way to add the smell of ripeness and the sounds of humming bees and bird song.

You can find this and many more of my watercolors for sale on my Etsy site.

And now a poem by one who shares my appreciation of ----

Wild Blackberries

Ripening delicacies…

with a spectrum that varies 

in a thorn laden thicket

of luscious wild blackberries

Growing among tall 

free growing weeds 

strewn with the remains 

of rain soaked rotting trees

The splendid seedy delectables

are gathered with a restrained squeeze

cautious not to inflict trauma...

placed into a cupped palm with ease

Playful patches of sunlight

filter through swaying shade

dancing… sporadically, intensifying

then tending to dim and fade

Focusing on a twined

vine… suddenly becoming aware 

of aliveness… exhibiting an

intent-fully territorial stare 

With a backward step 

it has become quite clear

Now is time to conclude 

berry picking and get out of here

7/1/2010 

Theresa Ann Moore

SURPRISE!!!

Spring is always full of surprises, especially if one has a short memory.

I remember planting some extra tulip bulbs in this empty spot.

I just don’t remember what color or what kind.   

In a few weeks—Surprise!

I know these green things popping out of the ground will blossom into lilies of the valley, 

but every year there are more and more—Surprise!

I can’t even begin to remember all my computer passwords so I write them on a card and hide it in my purse.  While looking for the card,

I found a fifty I hid just in case I needed it on a trip I took months ago.  

SURPRISE!

Some things I remember.  This year I remembered to plant tomatoes before April so I won’t have to buy them from the nursery.  I also remember how tiny tomato plants become huge and can overtake the garden and your life if you let them.  So I’ll thin them down to ten plants in a week or so.

I remembered to plant my lobelia –

--and my pansies and cucumbers,

 but I forgot how big they’ll get before it’s warm enough to put them in the garden so the whole kitchen will probably be filled with pots of dirt and plants in the very near future.

Being forgetful has its drawbacks, but I usually remember to carry my cell phone with me now.  So if I remember to write myself notes and lists and put them on my phone memo they go with me better than all those little yellow sticky notes.

A lot of other things I wonder about can be searched out in an instant.

The other stuff, like the plots of favorite books and movies—

--and where I hid my Easter Eggs--

--makes living every day a SURPRISE! 

FINALLY GOING PORTABLE

Seven short years ago my Dear Hubby gave me a brand new Dell Computer for Christmas.  DUDE!

It was a superb gift, a useful tool and a wonderful time waster.  Still, computer years are shorter than dog years.  Since 2007 I’ve upgraded from a brick mobile phone to a smart phone with screen which often makes me really feel not smart. 

So when Big Bad Dell started going all blue screen and then fading to black and telling  me to F-Key Off, I finally gave up and brought home Snazzy Sam.

I do a lot of photo editing and sometimes work in Adobe Illustrator which calls for tight click-and-drag functions so I decided against a tablet and got a laptop with a keyboard.

I like how techies give their computer parts video game names—like— a Terabyte of Ram.

What I visualize.

--and a Laser Mouse.

What I visualize.

My Adobe Creative Suite software is supposed to be the same stuff they used to make the movie, Avitar.  I use it to whiten teeth, remove wrinkles and add silly quotes to photos I find on the web. 

My new laptop could probably design the next space station or hack into a Swiss Bank, but I’ll just write blogs, check out Facebook and laugh at people caught on video doing incredibly dorky things.

It may take me seven more years to adjust to this flat keyboard and the mouse pad, although Sam also has a touch screen so I can poke it and prod it around when I can’t figure out why the mouse is weirding out (I was holding it backwards).

I’m also adjusting to a computer smaller than a Samsonite suitcase which isn’t tied to a wall with more wires than a Christmas tree.

It’s strange how we casually accept the magic and wonders of technology and, before we even learn how to use it properly, we’re complaining about how it isn’t as fast or as clever as we think it should be.

Louis C.K. on Youtube--Everything Is Amazing and Nobody's Happy