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Posts from the ‘photography’ Category

Rock Art on the Rio Grande

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After finishing up Social Security disability exams for the day, there was enough sunlight left in a beautiful day made for outdoors to go back to Seminole Canyon for another visit.

The rock art here is 4000 years old and has weathered in past years due to the building of the Amistad Reservoir.

Pictographs or rock art are always fascinating–what were they depicting? are these stories or documents of hunting trips or every day life? Who painted them? Some of them are painted very high up on the rock face–did they use ropes to dangle down to paint?

I spent some time working on a few photos with photoshop to see if I could enhance some of them to bring out more detail. I took quite a few–so it is a project for a rainy day this summer.

However, the photos of the day are here: https://sylviaweirphotos.smugmug.com/Texas/Seminole-Canyon-and-surrounds-2017/

Scissors

Sylvia Weir Scissors

This week’s assignment was Scissors—a natural sequence to rock paper scissors. I thought about getting out all of my scissors and putting them in a pile–or perhaps taking a photo of a pair and then doing something weird with them in Photoshop–twist them or make them odd colors or in watercolor. Instead I opted for a closeup of my pinking shears–a birthday present from my parents when I was 17. So they are quite old–and I’ve used them a lot—back in the days when nearly all fabric was cotton and my dresses and blouses and pants were all cotton. Although I became quite adept at flat-fell seams and mock flat fell seams, these shears made my fashion wardrobe a much easier process.

Now they reside in a hand-made scissors sheath in a drawer next to the other scissors and rotary cutters.

Paper

This week’s assignment is Paper—right after Rock–maybe Scissors is next but I will find out tomorrow morning.

I toyed with several ideas–a tree (raw paper), the newspaper as Dora brings it in each morning, the paperwhite Narcissus that is blooming in my back yard or the box of paper reams near my desk, or my thesis, or… But then there were the two boxes that came filled with beekeeping supplies to get ready for the coming year.

A bit of adjusting of lighting in Photoshop–thanks to the Pixeladies Photoshop I class I have conquered some basics in layers.

And then there is that gorgeous live oak tree just down the street from me.

Sylvia Weir Paper

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A day in the garage

f1155779-mDown the street a few blocks over is a garage. Not just any garage for parking cars or lawnmowers and bicycles or Christmas lights but a garage set up to work on CARS or MOTORCYCLES. Built to specifications as outlined in our historic district.

One lovely sunny morning in recent months we spent an hour or so there, my husband consulting and investigating various aspects of the project on hand–while I took photos of things that intrigued me. Mechanical parts, bits and pieces, work processes and their detritus—and a bit of whimsy.

Here they all are: https://sylviaweirphotos.smugmug.com/Family/A-day-in-the-garage/

 

A minor Fall

Two weeks ago the photo assignment was to use the lyrics of Hallelujah written by Leonard Cohen as inspiration. Although the song is not new I had heard it about three months ago and was intrigued to read the full lyrics.

So—-what to do with this song that describes human foibles and frailties and a desperate search for God and meaning and hope?

I could not think of a single image that would convey that idea–it needed to be Music (already done by Cohen) or a dance (Martha Graham could do it or perhaps Patrick Swayze–but those options are not realistic). So then what about being quite concrete about it?

I found a plastic knight in the toybox in the closet. I positioned him in front of a Mexican flower pot having reportedly fallen over a sea shell. His foolish grin, his outstretched arms perhaps purvey the absurdity of man’s search for meaning when it is already within.SylviaWeir%20Halleluja%20A%20minor%20Fall-M.jpgsylviaweirHalleluja a minor fall

Rocks

Last week our assigned topic was ‘rock’. As there aren’t a lot of native rocks here on the upper coast of Texas, I tried to think of some other images I could use.

Rocking chair

Diamonds

Rock solid (musculature–how to find a model???)

St. Peter

Rock store

Rock N Roll

Rock Bottom

so a lot of ideas—but I ended up taking a photo of the rocks from my garden pond that are neatly lined up in the driveway awaiting replacement of the pond liner–maybe this week.

SylviaWeirRock

Contemplation

Sylvia Weir Contemplation

I spend a lot of time driving.

It is a time of contemplation for me–a landscape that looks barren but is filled with life–birds-bugs-beasties including those legless creatures. While many would think this is boring and would need entertainment I am content in my thoughts.

This photo was taken somewhere north of Hondo Texas.

Moving but getting Nowhere

Sylvia Weir Motion

Last week’s photo assignment was ‘motion’.

My father had a stationary bicycle–Wisconsin winters are not particulary conducive to outdoor activities when you have heart problems–he used this bike for his daily exercise. This came home with me after he died and lives in the doorway between the sun room and living room in Texas–where summer temperatures make indoor cycling appealing.

I set my Canon up on the piano bench, figured out how to set the auto timer–focused it on the pedal part of the bicycle, pushed the button, hopped on the bicycle and started pedaling like mad. I moved the position of the camera several times to eliminate a rather busy background.

My other options included a windmill fan and water flowing from the pipe of the windmill but I liked this combination of colors.

Holus Bolusing on Bolivar

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Holus Bolus celebrates ten years together—-we first met at Los Fuentes restaurant in LaGrange Texas after a fiber filled weeked at the Creativity Center–the dream of Karey Bresenham. Seated at the end of a very long table we began chatting and Sherry read the fiber book I had made for her about her mother’s pretty yellow dress. One thing led to another and we began round robin fiber books–and then we decided to meet more often than just at Quilt Festival and so the adventures began. In May we will go on a quilting cruise.

We have seen each other through health issues, hurricanes, and hilarity bonding together with Cissy’s deviled eggs, Suzanne’s gourmet meals, Jeanelle’s creative use of group projects, Sherry’s patient teaching, and my penchant for solitude. We have shopped at Goodwill for blonde wigs and sparkly jackets, the Treasure House for just looking for funky stuff, and have traveled to Camp Allen, Tomball’s Cabin Too, and Stonewall where I assigned myself the task of filling the hummingbird feeders—they were hungry little critters!

Sometimes we get together as five, and sometimes as three or four or even two–but it is always a joyful thing.

This past week I joined Cissy, Sherry and Jeanelle at the beach cabin (now there is an oxymoron for you–it was anything but a cabin) of her daughter for a day on the beach. We took handwork projects–I worked on my stitch every day silk sampler and finished up all the precut hexies I had. Cissy made two wonderful salads and then it was time for the beach and the sunset.

I took a lot of photos but chose just a few to represent our time. We toasted to friendship and the wonderful world with blueberry champagne.

If everyone had a group of friends like this—and spent their time so wonderfully–what a wonderful world this would be.

As usual more photos are here on smugmug: https://sylviaweirphotos.smugmug.com/organize/QuiltGroups/Bolivar-2017-at-Ocean-Blu

A blossom amidst gray skies

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our weather in this part of Texas can only be described as dreadfully dreary. Gray skies, misty rain, and sometimes deluges with yards like soaked sponges. Tonight it will be cold so in come the orchids, the poinsettias, the Christmas Cactus, the Night blooming Cereus, the prayer plant. The pineapple is covered with a plastic pot and the tiny mums are covered with a plastic bag. The grass is brownish in most spots and the peach tree and the fig have dropped their leaves. The ferns are curled up brown feathers and it is just dismal.

But then as I drive away to a morning appointment I spy this.

A gardenia blossom.

It smells wonderful and reminds me of the large bush growing outside our covered porch in Augusta Georgia. The fragrance would waft it’s way through the house and we contemplated naming a daughter Jasmine after this sweet smelling flower.

Alas, no daughters–I had to wait for the daughter-in-laws but they are just as sweet as those pure white flowers.