We are blessed to be here. It’s a misty morning on Beaver Island, but a perfect way to say, farewell to June.
The month of June comes to and end soon. I hope we soaked up everything possible in the time we are given to enjoy Spring, which is not very long. Carefully studying and gazing at all the greenery in my garden from the hosta and fragrant lavender to the tiny lily of the valley—I ask myself, why is the June birthstone a pearl or an alexandrite? Instead, what about a peridot, as in the perfect shade of spring green, like chlorophyll in photosynthesis. Actually my friends, there are eight types of June birthstones depending on which part of the world you live in. Alexandrite, with its lovely shifts in color, from blue-green to pink-purple, has reined supreme in the U.S. since 1912. In 1952 the white pearl was added, in part due to the rarity of alexandrite.
Do you know the difference between an imitation pearl and a fake one? Real natural pearls are cold to the touch. Also, it is hard to match perfectly round ones on a single strand, and they are pricey. Fake pearls are made of glass or plastic which are called “faux” or “costume”.
More about birthstones, pearls and jewelry making in posts to come soon.
Thanks for stopping by,
June, 2015 I captured nature.
I once read, to claim “Nature” as your source for inspiration as a n artist is cliché. Many of us are drawn to nature, and especially the outdoors in summertime. I love June. I believe, the artistic expression through nature is a gift. Cliché is defined in the contemporary art world by an artist and digital media communications professional, Christopher Healey, who has extensive experience with online development, marketing and public relations. Here is a link to his post. “A glib list of the top 10 clichés in Contemporary Art right now.”
I Painted Today. Pink Petals. This is it. I know it’s a photo, but it moves me like a beautiful painting. This rose is my June Rose. It comes from a very thorny stem with only two flowers. The lonely Rose, I’ll never forget you, even as you fade. Thorny stem, I’ll wait to see your next move, next season or next year. Maybe I’ll find a better spot for you to grow.
I remember my first painting classes. When I was around 15 years old, I was invited to attend a ceramic class with my Step Mom to see if I liked it. This was a vessel she painted. Yes, I was feeling so happy to see it again sitting on the breakfast table last weekend, when we went up north to help my parents launch their boat for the season ahead. So, I couldn’t resist, I had to frame up my shot to capture the pitcher on the table, and the glow in the room. After all these years, she still has the woodland design pitcher with the yellow and brown mushrooms that she so skillfully painted. Hopefully some great memories of those classes we have yet to share. The peanut butter Cheerios tasted better than usual that morning! Thanks, Mom.