Sunday, July 31, 2022

Slipping through the cracks -- upwards!


 

 



When we first came to Vancouver, I was enchanted to see ornamental bamboo growing here and there in people's gardens.  I couldn't wait till we had a garden of our own with a stand of bamboo.  Luckily before that happened, I shared my enthusiasm with co-workers who unanimously said, "No! No!  Don't do it!!"  In turn, they shared their experiences with this rampant invasive, and I chose not to plant but to admire from afar.

 

Then we came to The Yellow House – ten years ago now– and found that the previous owners had installed bamboo in two 5-foot planter boxes on the laneway.  Oh, well – this had its benefits…….until last summer, when it was clear the bamboo roots were bursting out of the boxes and slithering under the fence.   A daunting task confronts me now as I realized in May when I took this photo of bamboo incursions along the back fence.

 



I set August 1st as the date I'd begin to work on the grand extraction.  Coincidentally as I contemplated my work plan– and these things happen –  I came across a note from my 2016 drawing course at Emily Carr My inspiring teacher Frances gave us a quote from the 19th century Japanese artist Hokusai – he of "The Great Wave" fame – as follows: 

"To draw bamboo, become bamboo."

I sat on the low stone wall and contemplated how I might take inspiration from this.

 



My first thoughts were of my own drawing tools made of bamboo – brushes and a bamboo pen.  To see how classical Japanese artists might use these, click here.

 



Lost in thought – and bamboo leaves -- I then remembered a recent on-line session I'd seen of a marvellous young Japanese artist, Aoi Yamaguchi  Intensively trained in the various schools of classical Japanese calligraphy, which she ardently loves and teaches, she's also gone outside the lines in her own performance art.  Click here to see her in action. 

 

Isn't she adorable?!  And as unlikely a pair as she and I would make, I decided it was time to unleash my Inner Aoi.  First, I made my own "bamboo brush" of a non-traditional kind:-- the brush itself is composed of bamboo leaves and the handle is made of taped bamboo stalks.  It was tricky to get a good photo so I took it out of the garden to my front porch.

 



This shot against my front gate shows its length -- about five feet.

 



I thought I had a very long wide roll of paper, but the best I could manage was only 24 x 30".   I set up my paper and black paint one delightful cool morning about 7:30 am. 

 



Alas, there's no video to show – but my experience working in the morning air, sweeping and pressing the brush on the absorbent paper, is sure to be one of my unforgettable moments of Summer 2022.  Here's my stopping point, and oh, how I wished for another five or six feet of paper to splash on!

 



This is the orientation I prefer, as pinned temporarily against the back gate.

 



I don't think my personal Summer Games will be as much fun as pick-up sticks but we'll see -- starting August 1st.  (Yikes! that's tomorrow as I write).

 



 

Friday, July 15, 2022

It seemed like it would never come!


 

 

 

YES!  Summer has arrived at last.  After the coldest, wettest March-April-May-June, no one in Vancouver is allowed to complain about heat or overgrown jungles – least of all this writer, who has been a bit of a Weather Whiner for most of 2022.

 

Filled with the excitement of summer ventures and pleasurable garden work, my daily art has moved into Summer Camp mode.  I'm doing preparatory work for a couple projects I have up my sleeves, and meanwhile I'm keeping my hand in with some quick studies – aiming again for one-hour max.

 

The theme?  Trails and treks of bygone days.  Like these:

 


 


And these:

 


 

 

And finally, for this batch:

 



Is this putting you to sleep?  Me, too.  But think of all that creative dream time!