Winter Garden
Hello once again. November is here and a chill is in the air. As I look out my condensation-streaked window, I gaze on a new vista. Gone are the alstomerias, the berries and the crocosmias. The temperature has dropped and winter is knocking at my door. For an artist one might think that this means that the senses become dulled and inspiration to create art lessens. This is not the case, however. Below I will share with you some of the visual treats that can be found indoors that spur me on to create.
Now is the perfect time for looking at the textures that surround me in my home. For instance, this fabric by Ralph Lauren always lifts my spirits with its warm fall tones.
The rich wood tones of an armoire and the artistry of this carving always inspire me with awe and spur me on to create.
Look at the beauty here in this cross stitch of long ago. It makes me imagine the worn hands that spent hours bent over an embroidery frame working this delicate pattern.
“Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home.”
With Thanksgiving behind us, we suddenly are being thrust into winter at full tilt. I'm not convinced yet that my spirit is ready for full-blown winter. This reminds me of some of the lyrics of one of my favorite songs on an album of French music that I enjoy. The song is entitled "Jardin d'Hiver," or Winter Garden. It's by Keren Ann, who nostalgically sings: "I would like some green sun, some lace and teapots, some photos of the seaside in my winter garden. I would like some light like in New England. I want to change the atmosphere in my winter garden." These are my sentiments as I gaze out my window onto my own winter garden.
One of the things I miss most in my garden, as well as in my home, is my geraniums. Normally my garden is awash with red geraniums. They really thrive here in this coastal weather. I was amazed when I first moved here and discovered that to propagate the geraniums all that was required was to cut a portion of the stock, place it in the soft dark soil, water and, in no time at all, a new geranium plant was created. That's all wonderful in the spring, but for now my geranium plants are missing the delightful flowers that so frequently flourish in front of cafes and in gardens and on the window sills of homes, bringing their unique brand of cheer throughout the world.
Here is an example of my geranium patch in my garden, but for now one would almost think it was a nasturtium patch. For the careful observer, though, you can make out the signature geranium leaves and stocks.
My normally vibrant pot of geraniums is naked of its bright red flowers.
This is all leading you to understand why I've decided to share this particular painting with you this month. I love this painting and cherish it because to me the red geraniums always lift my soul and transport me back to the windows of France. This particular painting encourages the viewer to peek past the weathered wood of yesterday, behind the peeling paint of the window frame, to open the rusty hinges and gaze past the window curtains into the warmth of a hearth, family and home.
So I give you the joy of this painting in hopes that with the hustle and bustle of the season, you will find the time to settle down to a cup of hot tea with honey and lemon and share with a beloved friend the joys and trials of life as you bask in the warmth of a fireside.
