Looking is Loving
we interrupt this daily practice ...
Hello,
When I began my daily color practice on April 3, 2018, I had no intention of carrying on for more than 100 days. Can you imagine my surprise when years (!!!) later I still find myself tethered to making color studies and recording daily observations. Plants, shells, sticks, and other pieces of the natural world have taught me to see, which is to care, to look closely with great heart. Or, as Wendy MacNaughton wrote on Sunday:
There is a constancy and forgiveness to a daily practice — there’s always tomorrow. Just keep showing up, a body in motion stays in motion. I’ve always wondered what might interrupt these daily breadcrumbs, now I know. The motion of this gardener’s body has been restricted for some time now. I’m weary of it and vowed to address the issue in 2023. Later this month I’m having back surgery and that will be the break in the dailiness of my colors. I’m okay with that. When I can, I’ll be right back at my art desk, nose ridiculously close to a leaf or a shell or seedpod, mixing colors. A bit of housekeeping: the November newsletter will launch a week early on 11/25. Instead of shorting October, think of it as adding another week to the coming busy holiday season — you’re welcome! I’m so glad you’re here.
xo Lorene
Cultivating Color
My new post about dying silk with the fresh leaves of Japanese indigo is up with a tutorial on the Creativebug blog. If you’d like access to all Creativebug content — that’s thousands of classes — just click below to get 60 days free. That’s plenty of time to watch all 31 segments in my color study daily practice class.
As a CB instructor, I receive a small commission through my links with no additional cost to you — Thank you!
This week in color
October 11, 2023
Tending
Today, extraordinary human and environmental loss and devastation is laid bare, raw, and intense. British theologian and novelist, Charles Williams wrote of “substituted love”—the notion that through acts of love we can ease the anxiety and even physical pain of others, whether they are family and friends, or unknown strangers. We all have the capacity to hold a thought, a loved one, even our flawed world, up to the light to see how it shines. — from my book, Color In and Out of the Garden.
I wrote this several years ago but maybe you need to read it today—I know I do.
It’s too easy, even lazy to give into despair and it’s evil twin, violence. It’s only natural to feel helpless in the face of today’s world. It sounds so trite, so clumsy, but sometimes love is all I have to offer.
October 12, 2023
Again and again, and again, again.
A sweet lil double hydrangea pinched from the neighbor’s garden. We trade forages, she picks crabapples for Scarlet, her rescued pet squirrel.
Humans are lovably quirky. Precious, really.
October 13, 2023
You know it’s fall when…
I love it when people bring me “something” to paint because it tells me that they are looking and paying attention to the natural world. A few days ago my husband brought me these mushrooms that he’d picked in our front yard!
For obvious reasons, Google is reluctant to tell me what type of mushroom they are, but I can tell you they smelled delicious as I was painting them in my comically goofy nose-to-the-plant stance. More than eating, I’m interested if there might be a way to extract color from them.
October 14, 2023
An autumn harvest of a different sort. From purple-pink blooms in summer to inky black pods and pumpkin seeds in fall. Angel’s fishing wand (Dierama pulcherrimum). Here’s hoping the plant spreads around the front garden.
October 15, 2023
Drift. There’s a comfort to watching natural rhythms persist when everything is off kilter. Take care. Tender.
October 16, 2023
Wide skies and running fences.
As far as I’m concerned, the Yakima River Canyon is holy ground. Steep grassy hills furnish the velvet landscape, pilled with sagebrush and interrupted with basalt outcroppings, like tawny upholstery worn thin in places beneath a blue benediction of sky.
We always — always — stop and give thanks for health and healing.
October 17, 2023
Rabbitbrush is another native plant at home in the Yakima River Canyon.
As I was mixing my paints and the rain thundered on the skylight about my art desk, it occurred to me that these are the colors of my place at this time of the year: damp fog, ominous clouds and wet pavement, interrupted by brief sun breaks.
Thank you for reading a handmade garden, a weekly dose of natural color and observations in your inbox. To show my appreciation, I’m offering discounted subscriptions through the end of October.
In the Store
Everything’s in stock and ready to head your way for gifting or getting. In addition to calendars, postcards, and books (oh my!) browse select or custom prints and original paintings. Stock up for the coming busy season.
The Mushroom Colour Atlas website has an incredible array of the different pigments you can extract from various mushrooms as well as a small description of the process and details about how different mordants shift the colours for each mushroom! It is super cool! 🤩 There is also a book, I believe its called “The Rainbow Under Our Feet” that is the go-to for mycology folk interested in natural dyes. (I am currently on a mission to find Dyers Polypore in crown land to try the dye out! It makes a glorious green - ochre depending on the mordant. But I haven’t tried the process before!) I hope your back surgery goes well ❤️
I will be sending good thoughts your way in November as you take the steps you need toward a less-painful life.