Artist's Journal Workshop: Creating Your Life in Words and Pictures by Cathy Johnson Sat in front of a local church on a sunny Saturday, then picked some flowers to examine. I only had a pencil so I added the watercolor later. Armed with few supplies, I went to one of my favorite spots and doodled. Lines added in Photoshop before posting...timid me. Please note: I recommend this book for any artist at any stage...my reference to 12-13 year olds in this review, is remarked due to the value of journaling. It's actually a very sophisticated book on many levels. In a brief shuffle through the pages of Artist's Journal Workshop , I found myself conflicted. The book contains numerous examples of a style of art making that toggles between the hugely personal and a publishable 'look'. So, with that...the book set up on my shelf for nearly a year. Now, after an honest read, I still feel a bit conflicted...but in a way that offers some inspir...
Cool arrangement - I think there's a play going on here with blue eyes (Irises or Eye-rises) and Tulips (Two Lips - these are significantly red) or a contest between looking and speaking (or personal expression), which is resolved at the apex of the arrangement by one flower 'hugging' the other (red as feminine, blue as male). I actually looked up the plant meanings: Red Tulips means - Believe Me or is a Declaration of Love. Iris can mean your friendship means so much to me or hope - it also has various cultural meanings. An ancient belief is that the iris serves as a warning to be heeded, as it was named for the messenger of Olympus. It also conveys images of lost love and silent grief, for young girls were led into the afterlife by Iris. There's definitely a dark and brooding background against which love is taking place... (I think the last two meanings combined are in play here...)
ReplyDeleteMy personal response is that the Irises immediately remind me of the famous Van Gogh paintings. It also reminds me of one of my favourite poems by Ben Johnson (because of the eye/mouth thing and the flowers):
To Celia
Drink to me, only, with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine ;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I'll not look for wine.
The thirst that from the soul doth rise,
Doth ask a drink divine :
But might I of Jove's nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.
I sent thee, late, a rosy wreath,
Not so much honoring thee,
As giving it a hope, that there
It could not wither'd be.
But thou thereon didst only breathe,
And sent'st it back to me :
Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,
Not of itself, but thee.