Phoenixville Community COVID-19 Creativity Project

The Storm That Surrounds Us (June 2020, acrylic on canvas)

Pickering Creek – Charlestown (2020, acrylic on canvas)

Untitled

Obama Pop Art

Hope

Big Head, Tiny Hands

Lena’s Fall inspired Apple Cobbler:

Ingredients:

3 eggs

2 cups of yogurt

2 cups of whole wheat unbleached flower

1 cup of brown organic sugar

1/2 teaspoon of baking soda

3-5 tart or sweet and sour apples

Strawberries fresh or frozen( can br substituted with preserve)

Mango, fresh, cut in chunks or frozen.

Mix eggs with a bit of salt using high speed blender, add sugar.

Add baking soda to the yogurt and let it rise for 15-20 minutes

Add yogurt to eggs continue mixing on a slow speed, gradually introduce flower.

Pre-heat oven to 380 degree F.

Poor batter into baking dish, I use QVC dish with glass bottom and rubber sides.

Bake foe 45 minutes at 380F.

Enjoy with ice cream or confectionery sugar

You can replace apples with pears or rhubarb.

Russian version:

Осень в горах Вирджинии.

Чудесный художник тут потрудился.
Листья что золото нарисовал.
Осень, живая картина струится,
Каждое деревце – красок пожар.

Мне не хватает сегодня дыхания.
Все замерло в упоение сладостном.
Как я хочу повторить на бумаге
Эту картину осеннего праздника.

Так и качу я дорогой извилистой,
Радости красок ловлю в объектив.
Как же словами мне выразить истину
Ту что художник вложил в свою кисть.

Эту палитру запомню надолго;
Воздух прозрачный и облака.
На горизонте мир совершенства,
Бог нам сегодня нарисовал.

…………

English Version:

Fall in the Mountains of West Virginia.

Some amazing artist has worked here.
The leaves are painted pure gold.
Fall is like a streaming live image;
Each tree is a fire of colors.

I am breathless for a moment.
Everything is frozen in a sweet ecstasy.
In my imagination, I am painting
A canvas of autumn celebration.

I am driving on a winding road.
My camera catches a joy of colours.
Let me translate into words
A true image from the artist’s brush.

I will remember this palette,
This clear air and clouds.
On the horizon, a World of Perfection,
God has painted for us today.

Thomas, West Virginia
16 October 2020.

I visited Green Hills Preserve on 29 July with my daughter and 30 July with my wife. Both days we saw hummingbird moths, something I didn’t know existed until recently. I took several  photos of them. This photo (as you can guess, it has been cropped from the original) was one of the more unique views of this interesting insect.

Cure

Lesson

TrumpCoronaVirus

Border Collie (July 2020)

Phoenix (July 7, 2020)

Sunflowers (July 12, 2020)

Twilight (July 31, 2020)

DETAINED BY SOLITUDE (thoughts on quarantine)

I retired some years ago from the work a day world.  My husband has more recently done so. We hoped for time to do our creative season – my writing and theater, his visual artwork.  We lived modestly at the edge of a national park.  We traveled once or twice a year, lunched and dinnered with friends, and went to selective concerts or plays.  Rarely did we answer the phone.  Even more rarely did we talk of joining clubs and organizations.  To some people we might have seemed halfway to quarantine.   Time was draining away now.  We were officially “elderly.”  The coronavirus reminded us of our mortality.  We wanted solitude, not solitary.

In the medieval world epidemics and pandemics must have been more frightening.  There was no easy way to know what was going on beyond your immediate life.  In this pandemic we could be both well-versed and well-informed.  When it struck our state, our county, our township we did not have to take it personally. Is the virus punishing us?  Are we confined to solitary or endowed with a time of solitude in which to reflect?

Although I love my home and my husband, I see the pitfalls of having no safety valves when tensions are ready to blow. I see the longing to travel without getting into a car or train or airplane. I see what the Buddhist called Impermanence.   I see the possibility of death without warning.  This is what real solitude offers me.  Doesn’t matter if I want it.  I am pinned in place by the invisible hand of a virus that did not exist in my vocabulary six months ago.  I cannot move away.  I am detained by solitude.

The Tunnel

Speed of Light

Social Distancing

Comic

Persian Rug

Sunflower

Taking a Picture

Tie Dye 1

Beautiful Star

Completed Jigsaw Puzzles

Apollo Theatre

Bird Harbor 2

Dogs and Cats

Paris Scene

Street of Memories