Eye of the beholder

I was in the country because I got the call: The mountain laurels are blooming! So hie ho, it’s off to upstate New York we go.  To walk in the woods. To see the mountain laurels.

You know how inspiring nature is, right? Well, when nature is in bloom, it’s pretty inspiring.

Some of those mountain laurels are pink! A delicate, etiolated pink — so very, very inspiring.

We stayed in my uncle’s Summer cabin. No, this isn’t his. This is the one down the unpaved road from his. Destruction can be awfully inspiring.  Behold, I am the destroyer of worlds! I think Batman said that.

Some day this baby will be cruising down the Thruway at 80 mph. Some day. Soooooome daaaaaay.  Entropy: always inspiring. Often creepy, too.

That’s the sun setting over the Catskills. Sun sets….sigh. They get a big “I”. For inspiration, you know?

And then we got to watch a thunderstorm that was raging 20 miles away. Yeah, yeah, that was pretty inspiring, all that electricity and earthly disequilibrium and all.

And then I saw this paper plate. And WOW! It totally inspired me! I saw this paper plate and right away I wanted to do something with it, use it to spice up my illustrations, manipulate its composition in a way that would translate to something that I can draw whole in the center with iterations of its component elements around the edge (like here, where all the color is).

I  haven’t figured out what it is, yet, that I want to “paper plate” like this, but I can’t wait! I also can’t wait to watch Part Two of The Housewives of New York Reunion. I just have to see somebody straighten Kelly out.

(And speaking of Those Whose Fake Lives Are Far More Fabulous Than Our Real Ones, I have kicked my Grey’s Anatomy addiction. But I have to know: does Izzy die? And was Denny there to guide her into the light?)

Ha sanybody else had an unusual source of inspiration lately? I mean, besides all those amazing ideas you get from the sugar rush after eating a bunch of raw brownie batter.

5 comments to Eye of the beholder

  • Deborah

    Daylilies inspire me. I have over 120 varieties in my backyard, something new blooming every day now. I realized that they function like paint chips, exciting me by both their colors AND their names. The favorite name of this year’s acquisitions: Painter Poet. Reminds me of a certain painter writer (or is it writer painter?) whose blog I read for inspiration.

  • Sandy

    No Izzy does not die – that much I know, but I stopped watching a year ago – I agree Nature blows my mind with beauty – especially the ever changing sky! And I LOVE Mt Laurel, it is the state flower here in CT FYI (Important trivia you know)

  • Jacquelyn

    later morning greetings from the Great Pacific Northwest rain forest. Awoke to a morning of fog more like San Francisco altho I am on an island far far north. I am inspired by weather and the changes……….the current pattern has brought us voluminous peonies, buttercrunch lettuces the size of volleyballs. Lush lush lush weeds. A minus tide in a few minutes…off to find seaglass

  • Janet

    Izzy didn’t die, so Denny didn’t have to lead her through heaven’s door. Sadly, though, George got hit by a bus right after he joined the army and permanently left the earth (and the series). Having recovered from cancer, Izzy left Karev, who started sleeping with Baby Grey after she broke up with Sloan, who has eyes for some new lady doctor who’d served in Iraq with Yang’s doctor boyfriend who suffers from PTSD. Torres and Arizona were happily living together until Torres decided she wanted to have a baby, but Arizona didn’t so they broke up until a distraught man whose wife died because McDreamy couldn’t/wouldn’t save her came and started shooting up the hospital, scaring the bejesus out everybody including Torres and Arizona who naturally kissed and made up. And good ol’ level-headed Miranda is now sleeping with a cute anesthesiologist. I figure I just saved you about 15 hours of viewing time and at least a million commercials.

  • G2

    MFK Fisher always inspires me. Here’s what she writes about her first meal in France (a meal of crusty bread, salad of just-picked tiny lettuces, Petits Suisses cheese, apples, red wine, and strong bitter coffee):

    “I picked up a last delicious crust-crumb from the table, smiled dazedly at my love, peered incredulously at a great cathedral on the horizon, and recognized myself as a new-born sentient human being, ready at last to live.”

    Bravo to that!

    Source: MFK Fisher Among the Pots and Pans by Joan Reardon

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