Sweet and delicate, Poppy,
I can’t find the words to tell you what you already know.
© 2016, Theresa Mae Funk. All rights reserved.
Sweet and delicate, Poppy,
I can’t find the words to tell you what you already know.
© 2016, Theresa Mae Funk. All rights reserved.
While you were away, I went hiking in the Sierra Nevada’s and filled my lungs full of pure and fine air . I let my feet fall wherever my intuition led me, and took great care to tread lightly on the ancient sacred trails.
© 2016, Theresa Mae Funk. All rights reserved.
Britt Salvesen, co-curator of a retrospective that opened recently at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art and the J. Paul Getty Museum, noted that Mapplethorpe liked to play with the idea of flower eroticism and its association with lushness and vitality and its association with the transience of life.
I’m not sure that Robert Mapplethorpe gave as much in-depth thought to the images he created as Britt asserts. By selling the public images of flowers, Robert Mapplethorpe gave people images that they could hang on walls without being, or feeling, uptight.
I take photos of flowers that grow in my yard and garden for the simple pleasure of knowing that in sharing the image, a greater joy will be unleashed in each individual that views it. And I’d like to think that Robert approves of my mission: I want my art to be a joy that heals.
© 2016 Theresa Mae Funk, all rights reserved.
While you were away, I traveled to Atlanta, Athens, Appling, and then home again by plane.
I snapped a passing shot of A mural in Athens, Georgia for you, and call it Untitled, painted by an artist un-named. A bride and groom were married later the same day.
Tall pines and the lush greenery of the landscape was my daily meditation on humidity.
I read pages from Basquiat’s Unknown Notebooks at the High Museum of Art in my own Neoexpressionist style, then hatch-marked my heart to Vik Muniz’s sleeve.
© 2016. Theresa Mae Funk, all rights reserved.
“You can never ignore a cactus in bloom.” ~ Albert Einstein
Albert was right. I noticed the ceroid cactus blooms this morning while collecting my rain soaked watercolor paper from the garden. The passing shot taken with my mobile device is no Frans Lanting, but the result of the spontaneous act is, I think, worthy of a post.
© 2016, Theresa Mae Funk. All rights reserved.
Our work constructing and filling the ten foot by 4 foot wooden garden bed for our front yard is complete, and the carrot, beet, and lettuce seeds I planted have begun pushing up the dirt. You can see the raised bed just beyond the tips of assorted roses and lavender that grace the landscape of our home.
A pink Tea Rose bush is blooming in the back yard,
and our home is filled with the aroma of fresh cut flowers every day.
© 2016, Theresa Mae Funk. All rights reserved.
© 2016, Theresa Mae Funk. All rights reserved.
The tulips are too excitable, it is winter here.
(Excerpt from the poem Tulips by Sylvia Plath )
This rain drenched tulip winters in the garden’s row of spinach and chard.
© 2016, Theresa Mae Funk. All rights reserved.
The astronomical winter in North America ends on March 19th, but I’m already feeling poppy-cocked to see California’s state flower adorn our green spaces in spring.
© 2016, Theresa Mae Funk. All rights reserved.