orange roses, pink seas

Through the week I've watch the orange roses (here) go from debutantes 

to roses of a certain age.

 The color gradations knock me out.

These abstract closeups help me see them in a new way.

For me, that's what art does.

Yesterday, I finished a quasi-impressionistic painting of roses 

and painted this

and these.

It's been a hot weird week and it felt so good to break into something new.

I have a green land, pink seas series in mind

inspired by the peony bud in this post.

Peonies, they took over our lives for a while, didn't they?

curious jen

 Orange roses.

It started at Two Old Tarts last weekend.

Orange roses among cakes and pies and tarts.

Instead of eating my dinner I kept taking pictures.

So when I saw a bunch of orange roses for sale…

Enough for two vases. So I'd never be too far away from them.

Why? What is it about that color? And me and flowers?

 And why are cats endlessly amusing?

It rained all day and they hung out on their ironing board perch

while I primed the walls in the upstairs hall.

For five years there have been six large paint swatches 

in blues and greens on those walls.

And this picture.

Now it's a nice fresh primer white and I just might keep it white.

A big step for me. (Understand, my dining room is pink.)

Eventually Aji roused herself to investigate

the roses in my bedroom.

And I'm thinking it might be time to paint a mural.

Something with a cat or two. 

And orange roses.

flowers in the house

I got a bundle of beauty from Bow Street Flowers last week. 

First I put them all in a blue vase.

Each flower is intriguing. No wonder I get obsessed with them.

I took a few and played around with various vases.

 And with paintings. 

This black and white one by my son Matt seemed like a good backdrop for flowers.

The orange vase and blowzy peony didn't work with this group

so it went on the dining room table where it is holding its own nicely.

The pink roses add warmth but aren't distracting.

The rounded old fashioned flowers and curvy vases work nicely with the sharp modern painting.

Also that cool sculptural branch!

I love this Persian vase, though I'm not sure about its colors and design here.

The trailing vine takes my breath away.

After all those cool black and whites it's nice to get back to some hot pinks.
There are flowers everywhere I look these days.
I think June is my favorite month.

Visit Small But Charming for more glimpses of flowers in the house.

pinecones and sweet peas

Winter, Andes New York

Last night a raccoon joined the rabbits at the flower pot--it's a peaceable kingdom around here. Despite the fact that a pinecone was the symbol on business cards, etc. for Country Weekend the store (and is now a convenient avatar) I didn't realize that they are a regular source of food for birds and squirrels until I read Bernd Heinrich's Winter World.

"...while spruce cones stay long on the trees, the seeds fall out of them as the cones dry and the bracts curl out." He describes chickadees hopping about fresh snow eating spruce seeds, nuthatches picking them out of the cones on the trees, and squirrel chewed cones under the trees. He does this in great detail, counting how many seeds per cone (80) and when and how a squirrel decides to attack or discard one. (Far too long for a blog post, it involves how full of seeds a cone must be to make prying apart the bracts worthwhile.) He then investigates the seeds of balsam firs. I do love a passionate naturalist.

Winter, Naples Florida

A year ago, I was in Florida. Now I'm in snow-covered Massachusetts, but yesterday it was 40 degrees, almost balmy--I drove with the window open. The little girls who live across the street are riding their scooters in the driveway. With the time change this weekend we get an extra hour of light, and that will make all the difference.

If you are more interested in fashion than pinecones you will enjoy this short Bill Cunningham video where he describes a trend of dusky pastels in winter wear--he calls them sweet pea colors. More about Bill Cunningham here.

Enjoy your weekend!

Jen

windows, Barrio Viejo

The Barrio Viejo (old neighborhood) in Tucson is filled with charming adobe houses painted the colors of Easter eggs and Jordan almonds. Tucson is only an hour's drive from Mexico, and that influence is everywhere--food, architecture, music, art, clothes... I was in heaven with a taqueria on every corner. People were very friendly too. I took a lot more pictures of the houses, and will post them another time.

I can't decide if I want a lime green house with pink trim, or a pink house with lime green trim. And a yellow door. (And if the house is pink, what shade?)

See a great slideshow of colorful towns here.

yellow flowers

Forget red. Let's talk about yellow. Yellow flowers. These beauties from Bow Street Flowers are making me crazy (in a good way). Yellow flowers have been my new love this summer. (And don't they look nice with the pink flowers?)

Roses, ranunculus, dahlias that look like honeycombs, dahlias that look like a lions mane, mimosas that smell like Provence.  Where are the words to express how happy they make me?

It is barely autumn, but I am already dreading the shorter days, early darkness. I am a night owl, and must work on keeping farmer's hours, especially now that I am painting and need all the light I can get.

However a touch of crispness in the air, bins filled with apples, and the leaves turning from green to rust, burgundy, orange, and yellow signal my favorite season, autumn. (Although in April my favorite season might be spring.)

I'm taking my flowers to the country.
Enjoy your weekend!

Jen

country red, seaside red

Red is low on my list of favorite colors. I have no red clothes. The only red in my Massachusetts house is an enamel table that used to be my kitchen table, and now serves as a desk/place to stack books. I'm partial to blues and greens. Touches of pink and orange. White and brown. Not red.

But as soon as we started planning the country kitchen, I had to have red cabinets. I thought it was a desire to pay homage to the many barns in the area. But I think it's more than that.

Our country house is deep in a hollow, surrounded by trees, water, slate--cool things.

 Winters are long and cold.

Red cabinets, like red flannel shirts, warms things up. So maybe it's all about context.

I don't think of red as being a seaside color, but this tomato red house in Provincetown is charming.

As is this painting by Provincetown artist Chet Jones (you're seeing a postcard here on the aforementioned red enamel table).

I love the red in the above three pictures, all taken in Provincetown.

So maybe I do like red.

Is there a color you think you don't like but secretly or subliminally you do?

be cool

 red and green, hot and cool

Brimfield

paint rag

shade

painting

sons

 I've added ice cream to the stay cool repertoire: 

Orange Italian ice (bonus points: it last a long time)

Lemon ice cream (bonus points: local creamery and vitamin c)

Vanilla ice cream with peanut butter mixed in (bonus points: calcium and protein)

All those bonus points negate calories and sugar, right? 

I mean they're practically healthy.

Also, a big bowl of fruit salad every day:
watermelon, peaches, raspberries, strawberries, blueberries.

Hope you find ways to stay cool this weekend.

Jen

true love?

Today I went to Brimfield (largest outdoor antique show in New England--thousands of dealers and yes my feet hurt, as does my head). I'll share more next week, but for now I want to know:

Are these the coolest things ever? 

Cabinets from a sandpaper factory. With soapstone tops.

Original paint and hardware. 

Wouldn't they be great kitchen cabinets in a cottage or farmhouse?

They were pulled right out of the factory. There's still stuff in the drawers.

You could put them back to back to form an island.

Those colors.

I'm so in love.

Or is it just infatuation---a summer fling?