The lemon tree

Some days in winter seem to be so dark, like the light switch is turned off. To brighten up these days we have the wondrous gift of the lemon tree of which we have tons of flourishing in New Zealand. I love seeing their glowing yellow globes of fruit. Light bulbs of nourishment!
  In this artwork I really want to express the glow lemon trees emit. it sits centrally at the bottom of the garden. A storm has passed and the sky in the south is heralding the calm glow of a gentle afternoon. Mr and Mrs Green have been waiting patiently in the warmth of the kitchen for the storm to subside. Lily sets her knitting to one side and gently pushes the cat of the side of the armchair where both had been quite happy in their tasks. For the cat it was watching the clicking needles go back and forth. George had been scanning garden annuals and jotting down ideas on the side of the newspaper.
"right then" says Lily "time to go out and have a look what damage the storm might done to the lemon tree. That wind was pretty strong. I wouldn't be surprised if it hasn't tossed a few lemons around the garden"she added.
George grunted and the dog woke up hearing the paper being put down and George scrape the chair back at the kitchen table as he got up.
"I'll put my gumboots on then" he replied and going to the back door he reached for his battered straw hat he wore since Lily and him had been married. It was his all weather gardening hat.
 Surprisingly it wasn't that cold just dark and damp however as they wondered down the garden path the lemon tree seemed to glow like it was all lit up like a Christmas tree. Scattered about lay yellow globes waiting to be picked up. The dog pounced on ahead eager to sniff and examine these strange offerings.
"That lemon tree is grand isn't Lily"announced George "Just think thirty five years ago when we came here it was just a little sapling, a twig of a tree, now look at it. All grown up, like us and burgeoning with fruit" George was evidently proud of his tree.
"Yes" agreed Lily, she often agreed with George when it came to the garden.It was his domain.
 "lets grab the baskets out of the shed and pick up the fallen fruit and I shall make us a lovely lemon meringue pie for tea" The house and especially the kitchen was Lily's undisputed domain.
 The cat and dog watched as the couple harvested the Lemons. Lovingly Lily and George placed their prizes into dark red cane baskets.
 "You know what?" pondered George as he looked towards the tree and then to his wife. "This lemon tree is a little bit like us"
  "Really!" chuckled Lily "Like we are sweet and bitter at the same time?"
"No, not just like that, but we have been here on this property together since we met and we planted the lemon tree and it is like it's weathered storms and droughts and it still flourishes, a bit like us. We have survived up and downs, the children have grown up here". George smiled lovingly at Lily and hugged her. "and"he added "you still glow."
Lily giggled "You old fool"
The couple meandered back up the path towards the kitchen door, followed by the cat and dog.
 And Lily made her best lemon meringue pie ever. 

Camellia in Winter

Over the August school holidays most families set off in search of mountains to ski and it is truly the month of snow and biting southerlies courtesy of the magnificent land mass of southern Antarctica. Sadly it doesn't snow here in Wellington as we are situated on the coast and it just not cold enough for much other than pelting hail...Snow is elusive. Although I say that and up above the surrounding high hills that encircle Wellington region snow settles and the walks around Eastbourne where I live the vistas of snow capped hills is a delight to behold. Magic even!
  So this artwork is inspired by the all the snow we have had in our country and my absolute love of the beautiful but fragile blooms of Camellia bushes. Nick- named the winter rose they adorn most gardens with an abundance of flowering petals. Colours range from the darkest red through to candy pinks with bright yellow stamens, palest pink and opalescent whites. I love them for their bravery. Against the onslaught winter weather they endure as much as they can and then they bruise and whole heads tumble onto grass and footpaths. I admire their resilience. My Camellia in this artwork loves the snow, she is not afraid for she filled with peaceful love knowing although she may bruise she will survive to bloom again next winter!

The Tui Aria

                                           The Tui Aria

Okay so I haven't been back to visit my blog for quite awhile...like about two years!!!! I think I lost the plot on many levels. My post was supposed to be a short description of Miss Pohutukawa...but it launched almost all by its self into a really ridiculous story that I felt the urge to write, but realised afterwards it was a pile of pooh!!!And then I got shy about writing my blog and ran away back into my daily life and stuck to painting and running my shoppe.

  So moving right a long I have since closed my shoppe back in March of this year. A good idea me thinks as I wasn't making any money and the sanctuary of my neglected studio at home was calling me. It is such bliss to roll out of bed knowing how lucky I am to indulge in my passion which is to create artworks. I usually get up about 8am as I am lazy in nature and nothing is as more luxurious than making a cup of tea and going back to the warmth and comfort of a rumpled bed. Here Ruby my gorgeous hairy canine friend nestles down under the sheets and I peruse my emails, art books, poetry,  magazines and indeed anything that starts the creative engine racing. By 10am I am out for my walk with Ruby. Usually we do the coast walk, observing nature. The harbour is always different. The sea can be as smooth as silk and silvery in Winter or boiling with almost black waves crested with white wings. The wind blows like a ferocious pouncing beast or the air is so still you can melt into a wonderful sense of peace.

  This particular morning I had been out for one of my walks with Ruby and after a night of gales and rain the morning recovered and was breathing calmly. The wind had dropped to just a hush and droplets of rain clung to leaves and gutters. The world was all washed clean and sparkling. We took the path that takes us past the park where my favourite Oak tree stands. As we passed I suddenly noticed high up on the most tallest branches that a Tui bird had perched. And seemingly as if to acknowledge that we had stood still to view it, the glorious dark green bird launched into a beautiful Aria. I felt the bird was singing just for me and I felt like the luckiest person alive. 

  The painting above is my record of this occasion. Beauty can be found and heard even in the darkest and deepest of winter!