old man's beard
As with Ochna serrulata, this is another sneaky "floral but not floral" tribute.
These are technically the fruits of the shrub, Old man's beard, or Clematis vitalba. But, they grow out of the inflorescence and sepals of the plant to create infructescence.
And they caught the light so beautifully when I photographed them in Chichester last September, so I'm including them in my series.
crown imperial
full of goodness
The inscription on the headstone of this grave reads Eenvoudig en oprecht vol goedheid was uw leven, uw edel hart heeft ons zoveel gegeven.
According to Google Translate, it means Your life was simple and sincere, full of goodness, your noble heart has given us so much.
The other photograph I took of this grave showed the other two items holding more cobweb hens and chicks - or sempervivum - and the inscription, but it wasn't sharp and worthy of sharing. However, I decided to take the title for this image from the inscription.
I took this after the rain in the churchyard of the Church of Our Lady of the Assumption in Wulveringem.
The church is opposite Kasteel Beauvoorde. We visited the castle (it was the reason we were in the town), but I've yet to edit most of the photos from there. Another task on my to-do list...
artichoke
Once again, I'm reminded of why I love photography.
I love to eat artichoke, but it never occurred to me that's what I had photographed in a garden on Mersea Island until I popped the photo into a plant-identifying app.
It also never occurred to me that the artichoke is a flower. I knew we eat the "hearts". I didn't realise that they bloom and become inedible if left to their own devices.
When I saw them, these flowers reminded me of protea and some brassica species, which I love. I photographed them because they were eye-catching despite not recognising them.
Because I have such a massive backlog of photos to edit, sometimes it takes me years to learn from the photographs I've taken. But that doesn't make the learning any less enjoyable.
ochna serrulata
Technically, these are the fruitlets and sepals of the Ochna serrulata, not the flower, but sepals are part of the flowers, so I'mma let this one pass through because they're damned purty.
Taken during a photo walk around Redland Bay in Queensland back in 2009.
They're designated as an invasive species in Australia despite their attractive appearance.
hedge bindweed
wisteria sinensis
beach aster
birrna
Banksia integrifolia or coastal banksia.
common sowthistle
I photographed this "weed" in my backyard in Brunswick East the day I got my (then) brand new Nikon D50.
It's a perfect example of how all plants can be weeds if in the "wrong" location. The common sowthistle is deemed an invasive weed in Australia and other countries.
But one of its common names is sowthistle because of its "attractiveness to pigs, and the similarity of the leaf to younger thistle plants". It's also commonly referred to as hare's colwort because of its "purported beneficial effects on hares and rabbits".
Native Americans, Chinese and Māori people are believed to have used (and perhaps still do) the leaves as part of their diet and/or herbal remedies.
Whatever your thoughts on these plants, they made a good study for me to try out my new camera back in 2005.
For whatever reason, I didn't edit these at the time, but I enjoy the buds at various stages of blooming and the greens in these images.
And maybe there's a message here about how each of us can have value in particular environments but be unwelcome pests in others.
hollyhocks
From Wikipedia: During the Victorian era, the hollyhock symbolised both ambition and fecundity in the language of flowers.
pink petunias
From Wikipedia: The Maya and Inca believed that the scent of petunias had the power to ward off underworld monsters and spirits. Their flower-buds were bunched together for magical drinks. According to New Age folklore, Petunias will only thrive where there is "positive energy" and will not grow in places where there is "negativity".
When given as a gift, Petunias have (in the language of flowers) two mutually exclusive meanings, symbolising on the one hand being comfortable with someone, and on the other anger and resentment.
A somewhat clichéd image, the interpretation of petunias in the language of flowers feels appropriate right now.
It's a tribute to how comfortable I felt with my friend Anthony at all times. And the anger and resentment I feel in waves (mingled with melancholy and intense, overwhelming sadness) for the fact that his life was cut short.
And so many of the comments and posts I've seen about him since he passed highlight his gentle nature, positivity and enthusiasm.
a bed of roses
respect your elders
untitled #26
So, I've known this was coming since December last year, but it took longer than expected.
Subsequently, it's landed at arguably the worst possible moment for me: my flatmate has given notice tonight that he's moving out at the end of next month.
078 sunflower
Day seventy-eight of The 100 Day Project for 2021.
A quick sketch today.
I planted six Pacino Gold sunflower seeds in pots and placed them in the front room on 9 April. By 15 April - only 6 days later - they were appearing above the soil. Even though the packet states they'll appear 14-21 days later.
I hope they'll have multiple heads this year, and last year's sad single flower situation (albeit quite pretty) will be resolved by them growing up in full sun half the day in the front room.
Last year I started them off in my bedroom, which gets the much softer morning sun (and is also diffused somewhat by my blinds being shut a few hours after sunrise!)
They're looking good, with most having a second set of leaves growing only three days later.
068 crocus
Day sixty-eight of The 100 Day Project for 2021.
Yesterday, in the final quarter-hour of the day, I snuck in a more simplified sketch of an illustration I'd saved as a potential element of a collage for last year's project.
I'm still undecided on whether it's easier to draw from someone else's illustration than to draw from my own photographs.
This year, after all the work we did in the front garden last summer (not at all coincidentally), just after a snowfall, we had our first orange snow crocus bloom. It was the first time I'd seen one in the almost five years I've lived here.
It was lovely, but it did fade very quickly. I captured an, unfortunately, out of focus photo of it one afternoon. But by the time I had another chance, it was withered and sad, like a deflated balloon nestled on the bark.
Instead of drawing that (though I may sketch it another day), I present to you a more positive, blooming crocus.
Original outline drawn with a 4H pencil, then drawn over with an HB pencil. Keeping it simple.
061 lily
Day sixty-one of The 100 Day Project for 2021.
Yesterday, in the final hour of the day, I decided to attempt one of the more abstract, close-up photographs I took of one of the lilies a neighbour gave me late last year.
At some stage, I'll tackle one of the photographs of them closed. And then one of them open. But they feel like they will be more complicated, and I don't want to try to do it in a rush.
In retrospect, I probably should have shaded the dark green stems rather than just outlining them with a heavier pencil. Especially given I had done some shading for the shadows on the petals. But I won't beat myself up about it too much now.
I quite like that - without the source photo - this sketch is a little confounding. And, perhaps, a little confronting. I mean, it's at least vaguely anatomical-looking. But just what piece of anatomy it might be, not even I can decide.
I'd love to hear your interpretation of what it looks like. The more outrageous, the better, really.
The initial sketch, including shading on the petals, was drawn with a 4H pencil. The outline of the petals was traced over with the same, just heavier. The stems, toward the bottom, were drawn over with a 4B. The stamen were drawn over with a B pencil. (Alert: new pencil in circulation!)
I hope you have a lovely bank holiday weekend planned. I'm planning more paid work. More photo editing and hopefully getting my next Love Letter to London online. A virtual hen party for a friend. And long-distance birthday wishes for someone close to me.
060 sunflower
Day sixty of The 100 Day Project for 2021.
I've been meaning to draw this photograph for a while. But I knew it would take time and a reasonably large amount of concentration, so I had left it for a day like today. When I had daylight while I was sketching and when I wasn't rushing to finish in the final half-hour of the day.
I quite like how it came out, even though it's not photorealistic by any stretch.
I was worried that, when I got into it, I would find it too difficult. But I decided not to go for a super detailed version.
I sketched it all with a 4H pencil then used a mixture of 2B, HB and 2H to go over the leaves, disc florets and ray florets, respectively.
I should get some more planted again this year.