Winter Art Exchange, Part One, Laura (and a poem)

watercolor by Laura Starrett

Winter can be dark in dreary in my part of the world, but January and February were brightened for me when Sharon, from The Flat Sound of Wooden Clogs  http://flatsoundof woodenclogs.blogspot.com/  invited several online friends to participate in a winter art exchange.  The rules were simple.  Everyone who wanted to participate would create a work of art in the medium of choice that was at least five by seven inches, and then mail it by the first day of spring to the other participants.  

Everyone admitted to being excited, but also a bit nervous about the project.  There's that quiet voice in the deepest darkest corner of the mind that says I am not worthy...  Of course that's rubbish. We all have followed each other online for ages.  We all admire each other's work, and look forward to having an original piece of art from a friend to hang on the wall.  What a joy to be able to be inspired by someone else's painting!

Laura from Laura's Watercolors  http://lauraswatercolors.blogspot.com/  was the first person to send me a painting.  Laura lives near water, loves it, and paints it beautifully.  The colors on the painting I received were more delicate than my scanner showed, warm orange boat hulls with rosy reflections and bluish shadows in the water.  It has the quality I like of being realistic, but also having abstract qualities.  The shapes and colors are beautiful and interesting.

I have mailed out three of the four paintings and collages, and writing this inspires me to get up and go work on preparing the fourth.  In the meantime, I haven't posted a poem for quite a while, so here's one inspired by Laura's watercolor. 

A Boat beneath a Sunny Sky

by Lewis Carroll

A BOAT beneath a sunny sky,

Lingering onward dreamily

In an evening of July --

Children three that nestle near,

Easger eye and willing ear,

Pleased a simple tale to hear --

Long has paled that sunny sky:

Echoes fade and memories die:

Autumn frosts have slain July.

Still she haunts me, phantomwise,

Alice moving under skies

Never seen by waking eyes.

Children yet, the tale to hear,

Eager eye and willing ear

Lovingly shall nestle near.

In a Wonderland they lie,

Dreaming as the days go by, 

Dreaming as the summers die:

Ever drifting down the stream --

Lingering in the golden gleam --

Life, what is it but a dream?