Sort of a hodge-podge of things as usual my friends.......
Found the above pic last night - It's by Artist Nora Sturges who took on illustrating a book called 'Invisible Cities' by Italo Calivino; premise being a fictional account of a 'Marco Polo-ish' character who travels the world to all these fantastical cities, towns etc. Apparently the places are described in a very dream-like fashion so Nora's illustrating was actually difficult in the way of having to envision the places from very loosely described sentences.
Well I like what went on.
Brings to mind a few things:
I need to read that book.
I don't know 'bout you, but when I read, my mind is creating what I think of as a film of the story...I can get completely immersed in a book like this. Hours will speed by while I'm in my "Avatar" world.
Also, what I really like about this particular painting is it rekindled a memory of when I lived in a Tree house.
Yes sirree...way back in the time machine, Mr. Wizard.
In 1971, I was just out of school and right into the 'hippy' life style and went up to a little town called Wells, right on the outskirts of Barkerville, B.C. It's now become a thriving Arts community with a world class art event 'Artswells' every summer. However at that time, it was pretty darn small and there was only a gravel road into it from the main highway. And then it got 'invaded' by a group of kids 18 to 22 who were all into Peace, Love and generally just goofing about. The core group of us, around 15 I think, lived in a converted barn. We had the downstairs that had the kitchen and lots of overstuffed reject furniture lined up by the wood stove in the big open space that constituted the living room. Upstairs (well, actually a ladder you climbed) was the loft where we all bedded down in our sleeping bags..yep, all together. And above that, was the 'tower'- a magical sort of 'gazebo' perched on the roof with 360* of windows and padded bench all 'round. Ah, many great times up there. I learned to make bread in that wood kitchen stove (the first loaf could have been used as a missile) and developed my lifetime dislike for brown rice as we ate so much of it. Because it was cheap.
Oh and how to chop wood and trim wicks for kerosene lanterns and make moccasins....
Anyway, the fact that all these young bodies were all together all the day made for some frayed nerves - never mind the sex thing - after a bit. So my boyfriend and I decided we were going to get our own place and because he was just as creative as I was, we hit upon the idea of building a tree house. What a fantastic domicile it was. We found a great stand of trees and built, all from scrounged materials may I add, a 3 room tree house. It was so wonderful that it soon became the place to hang -thereby effectively cancelling out the 'own space' concept. If I recall, Stewart and I let everyone party in it while we escaped to the barn for some one-on-one time, so to speak.
Good good times. I remember this all fondly, although there were some bad moments too. But mostly it was a kind of holiday camp for young folk who mainly got along and had a lot of fun together.
For one glorious summer.
When Fall came, most everyone left to go on to University or Art School or whatever life was leading them to. I stayed that winter - me and 3 guys...that was great. It was just like being with my brothers, all very platonic. (Remove the mind from where it wants to go) I experienced my first BIG SNOW that year.....memories of jumping off the roof into snow drifts it was so deep. And that ethereal silence that comes when snow falls, with the haunting crunk crunk of a raven in the distance - it will never leave me.
Then one day near the start towards Spring in walked the man who would become the father of my sons....but that's another tale.
ps...I still have my old leather-patch-on-the-bum jeans from then....39 years later....eep!