How's this for an overabundance of minutiae – and wackiness! The owner must be one of that tribe (favourites of mine), the Creative Packrats. And it seems "Minutiae" is having a moment as in this current exhibit at the Alberta Craft Gallery. In any case, this fit nicely with my plans for a short series with that title – to help the minutes pass quickly before I can set off for this year's Summer Camp.
Time does fly and since my first post in this series, lots of small impressions have come my way. Remember the eclipse? No, I didn't catch even a glimpse, thinking it would be impossible to see above Vancouver's city lights. But a neighbour showed me a green blur on her phone, a photo she'd caught from her north window, just down the block. She didn't want me to feel left out (not that I did) so she organized an after-dark walk around the neighbourhood on the second evening.
Under escort – her husband with a flashlight, taking his job very seriously – we walked to the higher end of the nearby schoolyard park, where I often stand to enjoy a good view of the mountains on clear days. No sign of the eclipse – in fact, darker than dark in the northerly direction. But it was all very magical – walking through the dark silent streets.
Next day, I did a quick stint in the studio to produce "Nocturne – To No Avail" (Minutiae series, 2024).
Despite this year's rain and chill, May rolled out the gifts that I watch for every year. First, there's my favourite Tulip Tree, shown in a shy bud on the tree two blocks away and then in a vase on my back porch.
Two blocks in a different direction is a Japanese maple tree with THE most intense red "keys".
And then, another intriguing gift of a tree – the Hop-Hornbeam. I'd known hop vines for decades and was astonished at my first sight of similar flowers on a tree. Now it's another springtime favourite of mine, with a few flower heads collected for a brief indoor display.
Well, how to seize the minutiae of three big trees? I started with some possible close-ups of flower and seeds.
Somehow, as I kept trying to simplify, I was reminded of an eccentric early 20th-century artist who is having her moment, too. Double-checking after my sketching session, I at least learned to spell her name -- Hilma af Klint. A photo of her works on exhibit confirms my recent theory that it's all about size. (Yes, I'm joking)
And here's my version of "Gifts from Trees" (Minutiae series, 2024).
This is far from what it might have been – despite the fact that the current genie in my studio is Gino Severini, discovered via the Commedia series. I'll let him chime in – and then sign off with a tip of his bowler hat. (Does he look "corrugated"? That happens with cardboard….)
"Philosophers and aestheticians may offer elegant and profound definitions of art and beauty, but for the painter they are all summed up in the phrase: To create a harmony."
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