art D-I-Why Not flora gardening homestead wild inklings

Fresh Asparagus

Asparagus with a side of asparagus.

Wild ink painting of asparagus, now 5 or 6 years old. Made with wild grape, dandelion, buckthorn, horsetail, acorn, sumac, and a bit of help from avocado pits.

Painting posed in front of the forest of baby asparagus that’s currently under lights in my studio. These asparagus babies are growing from seeds I collected from our micro-patch last year, hopefully headed to start a much larger patch elsewhere.

From time to time these wild ink paintings do get sold or gifted, but I’m always nervous to do so. Not because I can’t let them go, I love to create things and have others enjoy them. But because some of the wild inks change so much over time. (You can see how different this painting looked like several years ago — here) Fortunately there are many kindred spirits out there who not only accept the paintings will change, but find joy in that they do.

Nothing gold can stay, but who knows what new beauty might arrive next.

Have/make a great day folks!


art flora

Watercolour Woodland W..ephemerals

I couldn’t decide which spring ephemeral to paint yesterday, so I painted them all. This quote has been rattling around my brain lately, and inspired me to just dive in and play:

“Use what talents you possess; the woods would be very quiet if only those birds sing there that sang best.” ~Henry Van Dyke

It’s an embarrassment of riches in the forest right now. The sweet spot where everything overlaps. The bloodroots are just beginning to drop their petals and reveal their seed pods, the trout lily are still blooming in force, there are still tiny spring beauties to be spotted, and the white trilliums are popping open all over, while the mayapples explode up from the ground

I snuck a couple of science-y easter eggs into this painting. Like a tiny nod to — and buckle up for a five dollar word — myrmecochory: seed dispersal by ants. A process that’s very helpful to the spread of trilliums and other ephemerals. And the different shades of trout lily anthers, from bright yellow to brick red. A variation which, last time I checked, we still don’t know the anther to.

…Yes I do make that joke every time.
Exploring watercolours thanks to our dear friend Robertson, whose paints I am using. Rob was a soulmate and one of my all-time favourite humans who died of lymphoma at Thanksgiving, so many decades too soon. Love you Rob. Thank you for all your brilliant colours.