If you love these colors, or don’t time to read this right now, pin this graphic so you can easily find it again later!
If you have been following me for a while, you have probably noticed that I am often inspired by nature. This spring has been no different! Seeing the earth come back to life after the late winter has been particularly inspiring this year. Since the snow has melted, I have been dying up a storm. I would like to take you on a journey to meet these new colors and their inspirations.
Together, we walk quietly along the path, listening to the forest. Twigs snap beneath our feet. Branches showing new leaves, just barely unfurling, rustle in the wind. And birds sing above our heads. The path is a dark brown, like it had rained the night before, which help the new sprouting plants stand out vibrantly. These little organisms have rested all winter and are fighting their way up to the sun, growing and changing rapidly every single day. Eventually, we come to a little clearing with two Adirondack chairs, both with a cold glass of iced tea waiting for our arrival.
Sitting back in the chairs, we kick off our shoes and enjoy the feeling of a large patch of soft clover beneath our feet. As we sip our iced tea, I ask you to notice every green thing you can see. After all, the first lesson of being an artist is learning how to see. The most obvious thing was the green clover at our feet. Then, the trees were just starting to grow leaves. Have you ever really looked at them closely? Notice the vibrant color of the leaves, how are they unfurling? How do they grow along the branches? You are amazed to notice that none of the leaves are actually a solid color, but rather a tonal green. Your gaze shifts to the ground, and suddenly, you don’t just see a forest floor covered in leaves anymore. But instead, it jumps to life. There is a rainbow of green before you; how have you never noticed all the shades of green before? Sipping your tea, you notice the different colors and shapes of all the sprouts. There is a little moss over there, some lichen up high in the trees. That rock is covered in something greenish.
Once we have drank our tea, it is time to continue on. We carry our shoes in order to cross the small creek just up the path. As we approach, we pass massive, blue hydrangea bushes that give off a sweet smell. What would this smell like if you were to draw it as a line? Art is just interpreting the world around you, and that means a lot more than just the visual experience we associate with art. How can we take other sensory experiences and turn them into something visual? That is the question, isn’t it? We take a moment to feel the texture of the flowers: soft, yet could take a beating from wind or rain. As we think about how to create something so delicate, yet hearty, the touch of cold water on our feet is shocking.
Looking down, the water is totally clear, and we can see every rock on the bottom. Black and blue stones gleam from the bottom of the stream, round on our feet. Once we are across, we dry our feet and put our shoes back on. While we sit in the dirt, you take notice of all that is around you. Most striking are the brilliant yellow daffodils on both sides of the path. This sure sign of springtime is a happy little reminder of how beautiful it is outside, despite your cold toes. As you were about to stand up, you notice a flying bee that lands on one of the many yellow flowers. Watching it crawl into the front of the flower, you have a moment of deep appreciation for how intricate and beautiful nature is. Once the bee exits the flower, you stand and we continue on our journey.
After walking for awhile longer, we approach a garden gate. Huge peony blossoms surround the entrance, and it is clear that there are many more inside. I tell you that we have almost arrived, but that we should take a few minutes and enjoy the garden first. Wind chimes tinkle on the perfumed air as we take in the plant beauty. A small knife rests on a small work table, and we use it to cut some of the peony blossoms. It only takes a few minutes to cut enough blossoms for a large bouquet, which we carry with us through the garden. Butterflies dance between the blossoms, and you notice a bee house, where many pollinators are coming and going. It is clear that this is a healthy, thriving garden.
As we get closer to the house, you notice a row of orange tulips planted along the path leading up to the house. These happy little bebes are proudly upright and in full bloom on this lovely spring day. We consider cutting some for a vase, just like the peonies. Ultimately, we decide to leave them for another day. As we draw closer and closer to the house, we can hear laughter coming through the window. These gleeful sounds remind us of our purpose, and we continue on our journey.
Two massive wisteria trees stand on both sides of the door and form together to create an arch. It really is an impressive display of purple flowers cascading down. Butterflies pause on some of the blooms. Bees are buzzing all around us, and you can hear a hummingbird getting a drink nearby. This arch feels as though it just grew out of the ground like in a fairy tale; the whole garden feels like a magical place. And at any moment, we will be eaten by a witch, but nothing like that happens. Instead, we walk right into the house and greet all the smiling faces.
Eight women lounged on the couches, with project bags covering every surface. Skeins of yarn were on the table. A couple swifts were already set up, and a vat of iced tea rested on the counter next to mimosa makings. We quickly took the last two available seats in the living room and busted out our WIPs. And just like that, the knitting weekend began.
These colors are available now in my shop! I am so pleased to finally be sharing them with the world. Please pin the graphic below if you like this guided meditation style of introduction post and then I will make more of them.