Eternal Memory...

St. Nicholas Memorial Chapel built in 1906 over the graves of Father Igumen Nicholai, Makari Ivanov and a monk whose name is not recorded. I painted this structure when I was very young and now have the opportunity to paint it again. Most of the homes where I spent early childhood were destroyed in the earthquake or burned. This humbly elegant building remains ever constant.

Kindness starts...

“Nut Orchid”

As a small child, one of my clearest memories is the smell of the geranium plant mother kept on the windowsill. The pungent odor and bright coral color in the solstice of Alaska winter was fascinating to me when everything outside was a notan wash of  snowbound grays. Mother’s house plants were precious to her, yet she often plucked a leaf from one of her African violets, tenderly wrapped the raw stem with damp paper and passed the gift into the outstretched hand of many newly arrived cheechako. The grateful beneficiary was equally careful of the fragile gift, tucking it under her coat before stepping out into the weather. Until recently, I didn’t understand the significance of shared starts in a time before the invasion of chain garden centers.

How the idea of caring for a living thing often gives us the spark to keep going when we’re frozen to the emotional bones.

How even the smallest spark of color can uplift a wintered over heart and inspire creativity.

How flowers help us remember a kindness.

The way our brains work, we feel physiologically the same as if the gesture is bestowed again in the present moment.

Mike gave me a couple of corms and said the plant was a “nut orchid.”  A bit spindly at first, it took off and provides a largesse of blooms every spring. When the “orchid” blooms, I remember how Mike and his wife took my kids clam digging and how he mentored them to clean the catch and wouldn’t let them quit until the job was finished for all of us.  I’m reminded of the blood red poppies lining his driveway and how he often dropped in unannounced to see how we were doing.  I see in each floret his face and feel again his concern when he traveled many hours to be present when we buried a son.

I’ve only begun to learn the power of sharing starts.

Crown Imperial Fritillaria, Fritillaria Imperialis.

 

 

This one may require additional resuscitation.

However, for now calling it good. Feel sort of like God on the seventh day… in need of a rest. Yellow is notoriously difficult to handle without creating mud. I set the exercise to try for blue shadows and sure enough tipped toward grays. Fell back to the warmer colors for reflection and shading.

If anyone knows the name of this flower will you please be kind enough to enlighten me? Took the photograph on Vancouver Island and folks this far south don’t seem to recognize her.

2012, Pastel, 36 x 24. When we know the name of the flower, the painting will claim a title.

1 July 2012 - Thank you, Cheri Lovre and Gretchen Carnaby, for sharing the name of the flower with me. I appreciate your kindness.