A few days ago, I noticed my lush and leafy philodendron was sprouting very unphilodendrony growth. I scratched my head. In bygone days, errant canary seed might have been napping here. But alas, we had to bid our melodious friend …
That brilliant orange hit me like a bolt from the blue. Installations often leave me cold, but I gladly embraced New York in February to experience this artwork. Not just once, either. Again and again. Different times of day. Different weathers. Nine separate visits during the sixteen-day exhibit.
Once you’re satisfied, you don’t even have to frame it. Your final coat of beeswax protects it essentially forever. Like a soul recognizing an insight.
SunsetGrasses, photo & all text © Irene O’Garden The sun is setting on the growing time of year and the time of inward turning arises. Yesterday John and I squeaked in the very last moments of winter preparation before today’s …
Long talks with family, friends and colleagues; many classes full of eager and rambunctious third-grade poets—my purse of words is all but spent this week, and I have scarce enough to caption shadows. And yet I have enough.
I often fiddle a bit with my photos—not much, but subtly increasing contrast or emphasizing a hue here or there to intensify what I perceive as their emotional impact. Not so with the photo above.
Among my sales that day, two, in particular, gave me pause. The first was a beaming woman, who bought a copy of “Maybe My Baby” to add to a large basket of books she carried.
It’s fitting to remember in a week of international climate discussions, this was a system that seemed unbreakable, untwistable, invincible.
Ever since I first learned to wash dishes and endure long car rides with siblings, I have dearly loved singing harmony. But I can’t join a conventional singing group. John and I travel so much that I would miss many rehearsals.
Flipping through notebook pages recently, I came across a little game I played with myself earlier this summer, and thought you might enjoy playing it as well
While all my posts won’t be about my recent wilderness trip, I do want to share the following.
Before we set off on our rafting trip, my brother Jim gave me my first fly fishing lesson–in a parking lot, so as to narrow my focus. A high point of the whole trip was the moment I physically understood …
I’m back from Montana, safe and sound, but sobered both by the grandeur and the risk of the wilderness.
At today’s end, I will have completed my calligraphic marathon. Sign painting yielded to lettering on muslin for our annual Poetry Trail. Visitors will arrive later to film a promo in my studio—more about this another time.
Join us on Facebook so you don’t miss a thing going on in Irene O’Garden’s world. And there’s always a lot going on!
Get info about new book releases, projects, upcoming events, and more delivered directly to you.
Copyright © 2023 Irene O’Garden | All rights reserved.
