Budding ideas.

I wish it would stop snowing. I wish the overcast grey would give us a hint of blue, a ray of sunshine but it is mud season, and we are lucky that we are getting snow dustings versus the big whammy that can happen here during the longer, colder months. At least we are on the up side of all of this and, not to be too delighted, it is light until almost eight p.m. So some progress is being made. And, did I mention, the snowdrops are up (not open) but up. They take their cues from a more subtle source than I do.

Day Lily Wreath, Q. Cassetti, 2014, Trumansburg, NY, Adobe Illustrator CC

Day Lily Wreath, Q. Cassetti, 2014, Trumansburg, NY, Adobe Illustrator CC

We are rolling into the weekend. Rob has a "State of the Village" meeting tomorrow and then we have to go off to Albany for a conference. I am dragging prints and cards for their auction (requested by MANY) as well as my digital office as I plan on working on a publication I have due, along with my adorable new wine label.

Hill House, Helensburgh, near Glasgow, 1902-3 Charles Renne Mackintosh

Hill House, Helensburgh, near Glasgow, 1902-3
Charles Renne Mackintosh

My illustrator crashed so I lost a few hours of messing with roses..but easily replicated as the messing is the time. Now that I have it between the ears, I should be able to move it forward into reality more quickly. I am looking at William Morris, Charles Rene Mackintosh, Poirot, and others insofar as gorgeous graphic roses. Of course there are chintz roses, and muddy wallpaper roses...but styling in the Art Nouveau/ Deco is sublime. Did I mention Koloman Moser from the Vienna Sucessionists? Hubbard's roses from the Roycrofters? II  like how roses are snuck into anything that is floral... Tutor roses, love. Roses in the background of the Unicorn Tapestries. Love again. Poor Virgin Mary and her lilies and roses. Everything's coming up roses. Ring around the Rosy. Briar Rose. Sharp thorns, sweet scent--the polarity of experiences. Swimming in roses, in symbolism, in the icon, in the pure wild ones, and the hybridized cone we Americans think of as roses.

Cover of Successionist journal, Ver Sacrum, 1899, Koloman Moser (1868-1918)

Cover of Successionist journal, Ver Sacrum, 1899, Koloman Moser (1868-1918)

No roses yet to share....I have copped a few from some vector jobs I have done...but they are not lush enough. I am too parsimonious in style. Blowsy and lovely. Its days like this that make me want to be John Singer Sargent.

I have been asked to illustrate a calendar inspired by the writings of the writer Rumi (12 c.). I do not know the work (so I need to get on it)--but its pretty mystical, magical, spiritual stuff...which scares me senseless--which means I need to do it. Lets see what happens. 12 images by October. I can do that. No rush jobs...and frankly might kick me out of my malaise that I am in. Illustration Malaise...because it is Farmageddon here with labels and graphics for every producer in this hemisphere...from cider label programs (3) to meat programs, to others... and I am struggling to keep it all coming to their satisfaction. Jeez.

Gotta go. Printing on the fussy printer to commence (or my dropping it out of the second story window). It better pick wisely....or else (you know what's coming!)

Later.