Tag Archives: flower

Because It Rained.

A year in review.

Gardenia Blossom details with a dew drop.

Everything that stood between us

Turned into a Pearl.

Gardenia Young Bud geometry.
Geometrical Gardenia Blossom in rain.

The plant wasn’t doing too well the previous few years. It was down to only one flower in 2020. Gardenia. The tree my height managed to produce one perfect blossom that year.

A year before that, May 2019, I suddenly noticed the power meter looking rather different. Turned out, the power company, TEPCO of Fukushima Plant fame, walked into and across the property I live on, all the way to the other side of the gate and replaced the meter to its ‘smart’ equivalent without ever telling anyone about it. That was in May 2017. No notice, before nor after the switch. The Gardenia plant, situated right next to it, had no choice but to be in the way of, according to TEPCO, “low grade” therefore ”safe” radio transmission every 30 minutes throughout the day since, for two full years until in May ’19 I brought them back in to have them remove the radio part to un-smart the meter.

Every time I thought of that one 2020 blossom, my heart sunk deeper than the bed of Mariana trench. The plant was already under LED street light, which I voted against on basis that, if our phones have “night shift” mode turned on at 10pm default why plants do not deserve the same consideration. My such solitary quest only resulted in forced nightly LED blue beam with a “nut” diagnose on my name assigned by some self-appointed psychiatrists, which I somehow felt deserving of it.

How much beating a plant can take before it loses its chi to bloom but one single belle?
Although there is no way for me to be certain what the causes of its unthriving were, the timeline of the events I felt was rather peculiar and I discovered, there is a special kind of heartache associated with a situation as this one, the ache I didn’t know how to soothe.

Someone else had an idea however.

One day in mid June, 2021, I noticed a bud on a branch of my dear Gardenia. Cream, sculpted, ready to flower. Looked closely I found plenty more green buds on standby, 30 plus then I lost count, full of chi, full of Life.

How overjoyed I was revealed to me how badly I felt for a whole year. About the kind of environmental hazard we had become steamrollering the ones that cannot relocate nor object. The ones that create the oxygen we breathe.

The plant flourished exuberantly this summer. Perfect flowers unfolded one by one like the world’s most elegant fireworks. It was the best year of blossoming since I’ve known the plant, the most abundant, fragrant, spirited.
As if untouched, dear Gardenia sprung back and quietly asserted its Resilience. The tree my height produced easily 100+ flowers this year, their organically interactive, scented like a dream, stirring, sincere perfection sang its song throughout the flowering season and I was there, a teary audience, taking every bit in with all my senses.

Two Gardenia Blossoms in rain.
Dried Gardenia Blossom details.

Quote in decorative letters is from my 2014 poem “Spring Song”.
The photos of the plant, I named her Bella Resiliente, do not do justice to the Aliveness the Bella radiated during this year’s flowering season. She was “lit up” with Life.

Unscientific claim? Perhaps. As little as I know tho, what science can cover is only a small portion of the Whole.

A few “scientific” articles I checked for this post suggested plants are more than alright with LED.
This uneducated nobody thinks the claim is of a narrow scope.
Force tweak one part and something else gets off balanced, may not be right away, may not be what you’re looking at, but the Whole is bigger, more intricate, than us mortals could comprehend.
Lighting up the streets (and the sea, as large fishing boats sailing out at night geared up with those that I had mistaken them more than once for apocalypse) with tons of beaming blue lights we humans are recommended not to gaze at before bedtime, is akin to robbing the natural environment of the night, and the ways to sense the shifting cycle of the moon.
I don’t think we have the right, or the enough wisdom, to do so.

Re. the claim that possibly, smart meters affecting plants are easy to find online. Example search words: Wireless Smart Meter Kills Plant.

My wish for the coming years is that somehow, someway, we bring our “heart” back to our operation here on Earth, for that is the portal to Creative Flow that leads us to the Wisdom of the Whole, and the Never Ceasing Resiliency we can draw the true strength from.
Until then I will not lose hope, that, like the poppies in California desert after rain, we will find a way to Super Bloom into our fullest potential, both collectively, and individually.

Edits:
February 02, 2022 – simplified to “apocalypse”.
January 01, 2022 – added “the poppies” – hard to gauge how much to say.

Gardenia Blossom Detail.
Bella Resiliente

Stir.

“Do you notice how people hurt each other nowadays?”

abstract artwork with a lily and a shell.

how
the river knows

It was meant for me.

A lily bouquet with a tea cup and tanned toes.
A lily bouquet in an artist studio.
Close view of a spider lily petal on a sea shell.
Abstract line drawing of a spider lily petal.

Monkey wrenches flying across a rocky slope substitute made of stained concrete while all I’m saying is:

let’s get out of the zoo.

A wild spider lily blossom lit by sunset.
Spider lily blossoms, tanned toes and a sea shell.

“Who say everything’s been said.”

Text at the top in “”:
Ray Bradbury “Fahrenheit 451”
Haiku in decorative italic:
Series “messing with other people’s poems”. Deconstructed this time, Nick Drake “River Man”.
Text at the bottom in “”:
Nick Drake “Things behind the sun”

Drawing / painting are by me, the cup, the spoon, the rug, hat, vase and the gadget are store-bought, all the magnificent rest (including my toes) by The Ultimate Artist.
Yes my toes are magnificent, so are yours. Own it.
The second from top photo taken with a vintage iPhone 3GS, no edits.
The rest of the pictures are minimally edited to match the look of the above-mentioned.

The artwork in photos are all part of a two-piece series called “Spider Lily Red – Flare” I have been working on since autumn of 2012.
Took time to develop the style, as I aimed at doing something I haven’t seen anyone do before, that is authentically my own. 9 years on I no longer know what I am doing, I hear that is actually a very good sign that you/r art is getting somewhere.

References:
Making of the series in one post: “Process is the destination” (2019)
The whole process for “Spider Lily Red” since 2012 in descending order.
Spider Lily Red – Flare 1, completed 2017, with “artist statement”.

Last Edited:
October 03, 2021 – corrected minor grammatical errors.

Subtle. Sincere.

Magnolia Blossom, detail.
Abstract line drawing of a lily petal.

deceit
disguise
concealed tales
many sordid years

fly
far from your talons
this day
time to return

Abstract line drawing of a lily petal.
Magnolia Blossoms in full bloom.

The season of scented blossoms begins with Ume (Japanese Apricot) in late January.
Demure, delicate, their fragrance so faint, their buds mature during the coldest time of the year, petals push open against late winter chill.
Soft yet Strong, they flower to signal the end of the Winter, and quietly retreat as Spring triumphs and flourishes in magnificent varieties of shapes and shades.

Photos from top:
– Magnolia Kobus, close view. March 18, 2021, at 15:24.
– In praise of my favorite blossoms and the World they reside in – Spider Lily Red-Flare 2, acid dye on silk, as of May 11, 2021, 15:56. (Flare 1 is completed.)
– Same as above, at 15:55. In painting process since May 05, 2019, gradually coming together.
– Magnolia Blossoms in real nice morning light, full bloom. March 27, 2021, at 4:26.

Text in the middle:
Messing with other people’s poems again – Portishead “Cowboys”, deconstructed / restructured.

Last Edited: May 13, 2021.


Close up of fish scales and a tail.

Age of Authenticity.

On the day of winter solstice 2020 I heard, Planets Jupiter and Saturn go near-overlap onjunct at 0 degree in astrological sign of Aquarius.
Some say it’s the official start of the Aquarian Age, in it each of us gets to live our authentic, unique Individuality.

Close up of a dried spider lily blossom.

Owning one’s Light may feel harder than to do so with Shadow. ( I struggle with it. ) However, to be able to allow Authentic in others, one must attain the both to a degree ( a living human probably ain’t equipped to fully grasp one or both, let alone stay grasped – and that’s alright ). And without such “allowing” becoming our main vibe perhaps, the idea of truly harmonious Human Collective will remain an elusive pie in the sky.

Jupiter-Saturn conjunct this close last occurred in year 1623 according to mainstream source.
You, on the other hand, happen only once in the history of the Universe. Fact.

Photos: Perfect is the Divine Design – fish scales / a tail and a dried Spider Lily blossom.
Fully functional, uniquely interactive, beautifully designed and irrefutably free.
Kinda like us humans.

Fact.

True North


Red Spider Lily blossoms, sea shells and paint brushes.
Art studio with a spider lily bouquet.

I was a child

of the sounding sea

love, that was stronger by far

in a kingdom by the sea

wind, blew out of the night
envying of the angels
never dissever my soul from
a love that was more than love

the moon beams, the stars rise
all the night-tide, the sounding sea –
bringing me dreams
of love, that was stronger than they.

Red spider lilies in a ray of light.

Pictures: Red spider lilies – how my muse looked this autumn. “We returned to vivify you.”
Work in progress: “Spider Lily Red – Flare 2”. Referential links to: Flare 1, Making of the Flare 1 in one post, and all the posts documenting the process since 2012.
Text: Poe “Annabel Lee” deconstructed/restructured.

Beauty will save the world.

This is a sequel to a post “Creative Process, May 2019”.

Pictures (counted from top):
The Beauties of the world – Spider Lily Petals, my muse (1,5,7), and a Spiral Shell (3).
Artwork named “Spider Lily Red – Flare 2”, part, process, acid dye on silk (2,4,6). (Flare 1 is done.)
Background / layered chicken scratches are a journal entry glued on a cardboard, done about 20yrs ago during my lengthy, and severe I might add, creative block. Thought “Garbage!!” but I kept it for there may be a practical use for the cardboard, not the things on it.

Close up of a spider lily petal.
Abstract drawing of a spider lily petal.
Close up of a spiral shell.
Abstract drawing of a spider lily petal.
Close up of a spider lily petal.
Abstract drawing of a spider lily petal.
Close up of a spider lily petal.