Thursday, June 11, 2015

green land, pink sea




It was exactly a year ago that the phrase 
"green land, pink sea" occurred to me, 
as I observed the fat round peony buds.
(see the end of this post)



I obsessed on that vision for a while, painting it, writing a poem.
I moved on, but now I'm there again 
looking for meaning in a flower.



This year, I've been observing the peonies closely,
even reading a bit of an old botany text to try to understand.
Again I'm wondering what can I do with it?

Nothing is better than the thing itself.




22 comments:

  1. Hello Jennifer, I know what you mean, but I'd like to play devil's advocate for the imitation and the processed. For example, read woodgrain is beautiful, but fake graining done with paint also has its charms. Sometimes the painting or poem, in reproducing an original object, brings out aspects that allow us to examine it through a special lens, or add layers of symbolism and imagination.

    My vote is to enjoy both actual and interpreted works according to merit. I do have to admit that peony buds are the perfect example, natural yet also surreal, to open up this interesting debate.
    --Jim

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    1. Jim, I always think of Georgia O'Keeffe, when asked why she painted flowers so large said (paraphrase) "because I want people to really see them; I want to make the busy New York people stop and see them." For me, one of the purposes of art is to see things, perhaps in a new way, which you express so beautifully. I second your vote!

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  2. "Nothing is better than the thing itself."

    part of me says yes yes!
    the artist in me says, interpretation is it's own beauty.

    beautiful thought to make us ponder.

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    1. Oh yes, I agree with you about interpretation. We creative ones can't be stopped. :-)

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  3. Is the last photo of your garden or the Brooklyn Botanical? It's beautiful, who's ever it is. My peonies , two long rows planted by the man who homesteaded, are over. I'll post the photos I took. I did invite a lot of people up this year to take away bouquets and buckets full. Took a bucket full to my hairdresser.

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    1. Hi Karen, It's my garden. I hope you will post pictures of your peonies next year. They sounds amazing, and I love the image of people taking bouquets and buckets!

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    2. Karen,
      I wish I were your neighbor. How kind and generous of you -- buckets and bouquets of peonies, what a lovely image!

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  4. Lovely post. I guess the "thing itself" invites interpretation and then it becomes the "thing itself" in someone else's vision. You know what I mean, as in "beauty is in the eye" etc. I adore ladybugs!

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    1. Hi Amelia, I do know what you mean. Aren't ladybugs the best!

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  5. Good discussion and points raised, Jennifer.
    I'll have to vote for both, especially when the things themselves become, with your inspiration and talent, such wonderful, mysterious paintings. I love toying with the word "unfurling" as it relates to the peonies opening.
    Diane in rain-soaked
    Denver

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    1. I suppose art is also a way of keeping something alive.

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    2. Alive and also, some times, eternal.
      Diane

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  6. Gorgeous photos, and your header is lovely! :)

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  7. A lovely photo of your garden! Your peonies look beautiful!

    Madelief x

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  8. You waited so long and here they are in all their glory.

    I love the ephemeral.

    When I think of my professions, cooking and now flowers, it's in front of you, it's the thing itself and then it's gone.

    Not unlike a peony, or delicious bite or a big laugh, or a perfect sentence.

    There are many things.

    xo J



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    1. You SO need to write a book, Mizz Jane. That line which starts " not unlike a peony..." Is flawless. It could not be better written, or the thought captured.
      Hugs and Health,
      Diane
      In hot 'n sunny Denver

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    2. Oops Jane I accidentally put my reply as a new comment. See below.

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  9. That's an interesting way of looking at things. Makes me think of the "California weather is awesome, but you don't have the seasons" argument. I suppose out intense feelings for the seasons are because of the nature of change. Which is not the same as ephemeral. Winter lasts longer than a rose or the creation of a meal. Just talking to myself here. :-)

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