May we find aid and a speedy solution to this desperate situation.
The forces of evil invaded the lives of hundreds of thousands of East European and Russian citizens on Thursday, robbing them of their peace, security, and normal lives. My heart genuinely goes out to all those people affected by this unprovoked and barbaric action on Ukraine: not only the direct victims of the assault, but also to the people of Russia who do not want this war and do not condone these actions.
May we find aid and a speedy solution to this desperate situation. Three delightfully creepy photos of roots in jars - my avocado pits of course, but these photos remind me of a really creepy museum my art school friends and I used to visit in the later half of the 70s to make drawings of weird curiosities in jars lined up in vitrines. I think of it often, but I'm not sure which museum it was; I remember it being quite close to the art school in Lauriston Place. There were some fairly gruesome things there, which seemed to glow with an unearthly light in the dim halls. I recently tried to discover more about the museum, and I think it may have been the Surgeons' Hall in Nicholson Square - although nowadays it looks so big and bright and posh I can't imagine a bunch of scruffy art students being let in to sketch the exhibits! I have been planning to make some work based on the beautiful ice patterns which formed on our garden table back in early December, but I've been finding it difficult to find a way of approaching it. The photos I took at the time were too mystifying and I couldn't make out what was going on, so I took the decision to begin with tracing a photo I took that morning on my iPad to get to the bottom of it - an unusual decision for me.
On Tuesday morning we took a wintry walk and saw unearthly sunlight which flowed through the beloved bandstand in the park. (I missed the chance to get a pic of Monday's spectacular sunrise, it was over by the time I found my phone).
On Friday morning's walk B noticed sweepingly gestural ice calligraphy amongst dead leaves. On Thursday I cut open a cabbage which revealed universal secrets of spiralling stars; it had a curious relationship with a curly seas pattern I have been playing about with recently. Meanwhile, my avocado pits have been over-wintering in a nice spot by a window in a sheltered area of the house. They started growing new leaves in January which are picking up speed now. They have marvellous roots swirling about their jars, and I suppose it's about time to consider potting them and cutting back the leaves to encourage stronger roots, but I haven't the heart to interfere - they are so fascinating right now. I am just happy they have survived the worst of the freezing dark days of winter. Now it's the weekend already, and I am cat-sitting Minnie. I thought she would freak out and stalk off in her haughty manner when I pointed my phone at her to capture her portrait, but in fact she was a total diva and I got some lovely shots - green eyes and pink nose in a fluffy face, and don't you just love her black chin under those white cheeks? On a work note, I have plans. I am collecting ideas and setting things in motion which I am excited about, so there will be news on that front soon. We have the most beautiful big snowdrops in our garden. I think my mother may have planted them years ago, or perhaps they just sprang up wild and multiplied; the woodlands in the area are full of them, too, so it's a possibility. However, we are blessed with them and they are much admired by our neighbours.
This week saw Candlemas on Wednesday. I always pick a few snowdrops from the garden to bring inside for Candlemas, they are such a joyful celebration of the spring to come it is a real blessing to have them around. I always feel a bit guilty about picking them, but there are plenty more outside and when the snow and ice comes they get spoiled. Our house is quite cold, so they keep well for a long time in water. It's never until they are arranged in a small vase that the inner beauty of their centres can be seen properly; their heads are bowed so modestly, it's even hard to get a photo of them indoors - here they are on the windowsill, still looking very shy. |
Welcome to my work journal - a weekly update on drawings, work in progress, doodles and day-dreaming.
I changed the website address a few months ago, so some older links on previous posts are broken. If you click one of those and it takes you to a strange page, simply replace the .co.uk after the heatherelizawalker. with weebly.com and it will work again. <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
As well as the work you see here, I illustrate under the name of Binky McKee (my mother's maiden name was McKee, Binky was every single one of my great grandmother's many cats!)
If you would like to visit my Binky website, please click the picture above. <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Dissolving PeopleA symbol on the footpath outside a local primary school gradually disappearing as the image breaks up and wears away until eventually it is obliterated by leaves and barely discernible. Photographed at intervals of several months between February 2021 and November 2022, oldest at the top.
(My shoes look so new in the first pic, and note the transition to new phone in the last photo). <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
All
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
April 2024
(Sorry the archives don't nest!)
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
A 2013 work book, still very much in use Please note all images on this website are ©Heather Eliza Walker 2013 - 2020, and may not be used or reproduced without prior consent. |