However, I am not sure if it is looking down on the grasses to the snow behind, or looking up from ground level, through the grasses, with the sky beyond.
dmarks and Neige, I didn't see your comments right away. (Gerry's came to me by e-mail.) Dry grasses is, of course, an identification--nothing wrong with that. 'Dance' is not a word I thought of, but now I can see that perfectly. My word was calligraphy. I don't know why. I saw the grasses, and the word came into my mind, and I couldn't get it out.
My mom disguised the cracks in the plaster on the stairwell by gluing strands od dry grass to the wall, lacquering over, and then painting in some more grass.
It looked like that photo, going up and up the stairs.
Susan, I love your story and only wish I had your mom's talent, since we do have old, cracked plaster going upstairs in our farmhouse. How creative!
Good to see Liz and Anna yesterday, bringing by a poster for Gillian Bell's recital. Everyone, that recital will be January 3, 7:30 p.m., Suttons Bay Congregational Church. No tickets necessary, no admission charge. Donations accepted after the concert. Not to be missed!
Is there a word that comes to your mind as you view this image? Tell me your word, and I'll tell you mine.
10 comments:
My literal mind sees dry grasses. My inner mind sees birds. Many birds. I could go either way.
I was too literal, and only saw dry grasses.
However, I am not sure if it is looking down on the grasses to the snow behind, or looking up from ground level, through the grasses, with the sky beyond.
dance
dmarks and Neige, I didn't see your comments right away. (Gerry's came to me by e-mail.) Dry grasses is, of course, an identification--nothing wrong with that. 'Dance' is not a word I thought of, but now I can see that perfectly. My word was calligraphy. I don't know why. I saw the grasses, and the word came into my mind, and I couldn't get it out.
P.S. to dmarks: Looking down. Background is snow.
Mom.
My mom disguised the cracks in the plaster on the stairwell by gluing strands od dry grass to the wall, lacquering over, and then painting in some more grass.
It looked like that photo, going up and up the stairs.
Susan, I love your story and only wish I had your mom's talent, since we do have old, cracked plaster going upstairs in our farmhouse. How creative!
Good to see Liz and Anna yesterday, bringing by a poster for Gillian Bell's recital. Everyone, that recital will be January 3, 7:30 p.m., Suttons Bay Congregational Church. No tickets necessary, no admission charge. Donations accepted after the concert. Not to be missed!
I thought: Wind. That's before I realized they were dried in place!
La calligraphie...ah oui, je la vois parfaitement. Par contre, le deuxième mot qui m'est venu, c'est la "folie": une personne en folie sur la photo.
Wind, yes--no, there were not immobile but rustling and dancing in the wind. Crazily, even, as Neige intuited.
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