Beneath the surface

 

 

 

 

This summer's heat and smoke have put me behind schedule with an ever-expanding garden project that must be accomplished this season.  In early spring, I hadn't foreseen that some random sprouts from my cherished wild rose (Rosa nutkana) in the back yard represented a vast underground network of roots, radiating in all directions and invading my established plantings on that side of the yard.  The photo shows just one example of the root I've so far exposed from an 8" high shoot of greenery (one of about 20 poking up here and there!)

 

Last year at this time, I was working just as hard, digging up the extensive root system of Houttuynia – called here "the worst plant in the world."

 

 

Maybe this is part of my karma – and if so, I'll be grateful for the learning experience and also – let's face it – for the *fun* I always have, playing in the dirt.  Another accomplishment from about this time last year was creating a new rock garden from my neighbours' cast-off cement blocks.  That adventure and the first chapter of "The Secret Chamber" is told here.

 

The highlights:  I wrapped some oddments in and around a piece of white canvas and placed it in the hole of the cement block at the end of the rockery.  I covered this with another stone and left it there for the winter.

  

Well!  I should have had a video rolling when I unearthed the packet at Summer Solstice 2021 – it was a rotten, sodden mess that fell apart in my hands (no doubt thanks to all that spring rain I complained about).

 

I rinsed the shreds carefully and found them all less colourful than I'd hoped – just some black blobs and some rusty spots.  Does anything here suggest the Shroud of Turin?  Or prehistoric cave paintings?

 

I had fun playing with different compositional arrangements on both white and black backgrounds.  On the one hand, this might make a cool assignment for a junior high art class.  On the other……Rorschach test, anyone?

 

 

 

Finally, last week I decided to use the major pieces on the covers of my black sketchbook-in-waiting, which will be put into use when the current one is filled, probably some time next month.  Here's my preliminary layout:

 

I used wax paper under front and back covers to protect the fresh pages – having a little laugh about the source of this tip.  Early in the summer, I'd watched an on-line demo given by an Arkansas artist who creates marbled papers.  Her final project was gluing some of these to a journal notebook – and she asked the moderator, here in Vancouver at our renowned art supply store, "Oh, I should ask: Do you have wax paper like this in Canada?"  Moderator (surprised):  "Yes, we do."  Arkansas:  "Like -- in rolls?  That you can get at any grocery store?"  Moderator (soothingly): "We do, we do.  We certainly do."  (She didn't mention that usually we're asked about the dogsleds)

 

I glued the fabric using acrylic gesso and then decided to spatter some gold watercolour pigment for a bit of drama.

 

All that's needed now is for time to pass – until some day soon, the sketchbook's front cover will be opened….and eventually, something will evolve there, emerging from the Secret Chamber of fresh pages.

 

Fall 2020's bare rock garden evolved into this abundance, as of this morning.

 

And beneath the surface of that rampant volunteer squash vine, there's at least one acorn squash.  Maybe this is why I so enjoy Earth Art.