When Dragons Fly

When Dragons Fly ©2017 - I started this piece with the stone pool from an abandoned property in Scotch Plains, NJ. The house had already been demolished but the pool intrigued me with it's curious door shaped opening on one side that didn't seem to lead anywhere. It was surrounded by brush and debris so I placed it on the side of a sloping, stone hill I captured at Leonard J. Buck Gardens in Far Hills NJ with lovely plants growing along the top. The tree behind it came from another area of the gardens, but I loved the dripping leaves so I added it to the background and some clusters of ferns to the foreground. The little fish peering out of the water actually resides in an aquarium at my local pet store. The lady in sapphire blue (from my vintage photo collection) seems to be enjoying an afternoon stroll with her crow sporting his own blue fedora. Lastly, I added the magical dragonflies which were living on the same property with the pool. The sun that day created such ethereal sparkles of light on their wings, reinforcing a supposed connection with nature's spirit and fairy realms. It's hard to believe after hatching from an egg, this enchanting insect lives most of it's life as a brown, rather nondescript nymph under water for several years. When ready to metamorphose into an adult, it climbs to the surface at night on an emerging plant. When it's system adapts to breathing air, the skin splits open and the adult dragonfly climbs out. It spends the remainder of the night drying out and plumping up it's wings before, at sunrise, taking flight as the beautiful, agile creature we know as the dragonfly! 

"I can still only see a dragonfly, it's wings as thin and light as silk and it's body the color of rainbow. But on the wings of this dragonfly I take off and fly, for my soul carries no weight. It is our bodies - these borrowed vehicles of flesh and bone - that weigh us down. Our spirits are eternally free and invincible."  - Daniela I. Norris, On Dragonfly Wings: A Skeptic's Journey to Mediumship

A Vigilant Eye

A Vigilant Eye ©2017 - The rolling field of grasses I used as the background in this montage was a lucky find I happened across in Far Hills, NJ. I love using different types of grasses in my pieces and this vacant property was filled with them. It's the future home of Mine Brook Farm, a housing complex being touted as producing a regenerative environment while positively impacting the local wildlife, watershed, soil and ecology. Hopefully, they can make that happen! The abandoned building I placed in the distance, with it's draping blanket of ivy, was captured in western Hunterdon Cty, NJ on a trip home from Easton, PA. The woman peering out the upstairs window is from a vintage family photo given to me by a good friend who thought it would fit nicely into one of my pieces (and I heartily agreed!). The young girl taking an evening stroll is from my own vintage photo collection, but I spotted the majestic red tail hawk accompanying her perched in a tree behind my house. I didn't notice at the time I took the photo because of all the tree branches in the foreground, but upon inspecting the image, I found he was clutching a mouse (apparently his lunch) between his talons. I toyed with the idea of leaving it in the composition, dangling across the young lady's arm but decided it might be a bit too much. So without his mouse, I placed him on her arm and added some clouds, texture, color and filters. As the moon rises in the background, the hawk keeps "a vigilant eye" on the path ahead just as the peculiar woman in the witches hat keeps "a vigilant eye" on the two of them. And perhaps they are all listening to a song being sung in the distance….

The Poet's Song - Alfred Lord Tennyson

The rain had fallen, the Poet arose,

He passed by the town, and out of the street,

A light wind blew from the gates of the sun,

And waves of shadow went over the wheat,

And he set him down in a lonely place,

And chanted a melody loud and sweet,

That made the wild swan pause in her cloud,

And the lark drop down at his feet.

The swallow stopt as he hunted the bee,

The snake slipt under a spray,

The hawk stood with the down on his beak

And stared, with his foot on the prey

And the nightingale thought, "I have sung many songs,

But never a one so gay,

For he sings of what the world will be

When the years have died away". 

Metamorphosis

Metamorphosis ©2017 - "A change of the form or nature of a thing or person into a completely different one, by natural or supernatural means" is the definition of metamorphosis that gave me the title for this piece. I started the background with the small out building I came across on an abandoned property in the Delaware Water Gap in northwestern NJ.  The area surrounding it was all rubble so I placed it in a field of tall grasses from Mine Brook Farm in Far Hills, NJ. The Red-fringed Emerald moth (nemoria bistriaria) I photographed as it was sleeping on my front door. Although that is it's species name, it's wings were a beautiful, pastel green; not emerald. Unlike their butterfly cousins, moths are mostly nocturnal creatures in spite of their fascination for flames and artificial lights. While there are a few theories for this mysterious behavior, none have been proven. Many Native Americans consider moths a symbol of transformation and healing while others associate them with death and bringing messages from the spirit world. I suppose the young man from my vintage photo collection could possibly be involved with both. I added the clock from the quaint town of Belvedere, NJ (timing is everything in the process of metamorphosis) and some evening clouds from just after sunset. Lastly, filters and color were selectively applied as well as texture from a daguerreotype that seemingly added tendrils of electricity to the sky.