Thursday, December 17, 2009

Fancy Pods

I've always loved milk weed pods. Used to be, way back when, my mom and I would go walking in the woods in the autumn, bring them home and spray paint them. Gold or silver. They were really pretty.

When picking them to spray paint and put in dried arrangements we would leave them on their stems.

I picked these while in WV this fall and brought them home with me. I wasn't sure at the time what I was going to do, but I knew that the longer I looked at them, the more sure I would be to "see" what they were meant to be.

A coat of white paint later....

Ideas began forming. They are a strong, yet delicate. I love the shape and texture. At times they remind me of paisley, other times wings.

Since I have lots of feathers and pearls, I decided that I would make them fancy.

A few rhinestones to dress up another one.

And because I had pink feathers and this pin waiting for something special....

The first batch of fancies have winged their way into hearts; one all the way to Belfast, Ireland.  Another to the big city of New York.  Country fancies are definitely traveling.

I've got several more that are still waiting for inspiration. If you've got any ideas I'm open to suggestion.

A Winter Heart

Winter is on my head, but eternal spring is in my heart. ~Victor Hugo

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Thou Art Blue

One particularly cold afternoon in late October, I was locked out of my mother's house. I actually had a key to the house, but she had left and slammed her storm door shut in a rush and it locked--itself, she says. Anyway, short of breaking the glass to open it I decided since I had the camera in the jeep to take off and do some picture taking.  We'd figure out how to get in the house later.

This house is blue. Yes it is! Now it is a worn, denimy blue. At one time the bright Caribbean blue was a neighborhood shocker. The house sits close to the mouth of Bufflick Road, beside a creek, across the road from a straight up and down hill.

It bustled with activity a few short years ago. Now it is empty and abandoned.

Can't you just see an old truck sitting on that hand built, rather rickety looking ramp?

And the handiness of the outhouse...

The barn is not an elaborate affair, but surely held all the equipment that its owner needed to store.

All the rusty implements left hanging on the side indicate that the elderly gentleman of the house probably met his demise first. Or so it seems to me.

Anything that was left of any value would have been picked off quite easily as the house sits right next to the road. This remaining pile of rust held great photographic value though!

It was extremely cold and damp there on the creek bank, but I am sure it was a great place to be in the summer when the water was running freely and the trees were providing shade and natural air conditioning.

I love old places like this. These people were never rich with monetary value, but their lives, hard work and morals gave them a wealth of character that we see little of today.

As I was racing the dusk of early evening I had to rush through the photos. There was an eerieness in the approaching darkness and the hush of the late autumn woods was very loud.

Across the road from the house and just on the bank above me, I saw this woody, winsome, post smile and knew that somewhere someone was glad I was documenting their little piece of heaven.

There was a pervading, foul odor of death hanging in the air around the lower end of the house. This smell had added to the feeling of unease around me. I jumped in the jeep and headed back the way I had come. Glancing to my right I saw what I had missed on the way in...and naturally I had to stop and get a shot of it.

Otherwise you would have never believed me!

Yeppers, this is what parts of West Virginia is about...shotguns and roadkill.  I didn't get close enough to find out what killed them, but really did wonder why someone had taken the time, and bother to drape them across the fence. I didn't want to hang around long enough to have someone drive by and wonder why I was wondering!!!

There are some real rednecks living up Bufflick...