Pink is often consdered a calming colour; associated with love, kindness, and femininity. A by-word for all things romantic, feminine and girly.
Yet interestingly, in the 19th century, pink was considered a colour more appropriate for boys; a childish version of the “masculine” colour red.
My photo archives are full of pink-in-nature (yeah, I love photographing flowers), but I’m challenging myself to look beyond my obvious. So here’s my pot pourri of pinks; foodie things, arty things, a sunrise, found objects and some photo-experiments; in-camera and with PhotoShop.
Dried rosebuds for a tisane. Image: Su Leslie
Putting out the best china. Image: Su Leslie
Lux Festival of Lights, Wellington, NZ.Image: Su Leslie
Eco-print; eucalyptus leaf on silk. Image: Su Leslie
Door knocker, seen in Bordeaux, France. Image: Su Leslie
Out of reach. Image: Su Leslie
Seeing double. Multiple exposure shot of pohutukawa leaves. Image: Su Leslie, 2017
Mangere sunrise. Auckland, NZ. Image: Su Leslie
Image: Su Leslie
Image: Su Leslie
Give it a whirl; making the troll dizzy with PhotoShop. Image: Su Leslie
It’s a colour heavily encumbered with association; denoting renewal, nature, harmony, freshness, and the environment — while at the same time being associated with money, greed and jealousy.
Seen from space, New Zealand looks like a series of small jade islands in the vast Pacific. It would be easy to fill a post with the landscapes and flora familiar to me, but instead I’ve sought green in other realms of life.
Food for example (unexpected I know!)
Eat your greens. Image: Su Leslie
Feijoas.Image: Su Leslie
Making tarragon vinegar. Image: Su Leslie
Mint slice al fresco. Image: Su Leslie
And of course art …
Glass chandelier. Image: Su Leslie
Art class. Image: Su Leslie
Light sculpture. Image: Su Leslie
Taking it outside. Fence at artist’s studio.Image: Su Leslie
And life’s small treasures
Vintage water glasses. Image: Su Leslie
A kiwi classic, Fun Ho! toy truck. Image: Su Leslie
The intersection of art and nature. Image: Su Leslie
Two photographers doing what we love. Image: Su Leslie 2018
The history of photography was, until the digital age, entirely the history of special moments. Early photography was both expensive and extremely time consuming. Cameras — large, often bespoke contraptions that worked by exposing chemical-coated plates to light over relatively long periods of time — were the preserve of a few wealthy enthusiasts.
Even after new technologies made cameras accessible to the mass market (thanks Kodak), the cost of buying and developing film meant that many (most) people still saved photography for recording the events and moments of most importance to them. Five selfies with that cheeseburger — no way!
Now that most phones have (perfectly decent) digital cameras and are internet-connected, the way we think about — and use — photography has utterly changed. One of the most intelligent writers about photography (in my opinion) was the late John Berger. Writing in 1972, he said:
Photographs bear witness to a human choice being exercised in a given situation. A photograph is a result of the photographer’s decision that it is worth recording that this particular event or this particular object has been seen. If everything that existed were continually being photographed, every photograph would become meaningless.
John Berger
Recording the experience of art; a project I consider worthwhile. Image: Su Leslie
With the ubiquity of photography in our lives, how do we choose special moments? Not just those we capture — but those we share with the increasingly wide audience available through social media. How different bloggers respond to that question, posed in this week’s Lens Artists Photo Challenge, is fascinating in itself.
My lens for this project is creativity. My special moments are those in which creative activities are being practiced, or their products enjoyed.
Exploring creativity with a compassionate and talented teacher. Image: Su Leslie
There is a fountain of youth: it is your mind, your talents, the creativity you bring to your life and the lives of people you love. When you learn to tap this source, you will truly have defeated age.
Sophia Loren
Image: Su Leslie
Image: Su Leslie
Image: Su Leslie
Exploring the boundaries of art. Image: Su Leslie
” … I feel that what we should get from art is a sense of wonder, of something beyond ourselves, that celebrates our ‘being’ here.” — Trevor Bell. Images: Su Leslie
Before and after. Recording process matters. Images: Su Leslie
What served in the place of the photograph, before the camera’s invention? The expected answer is the engraving, the drawing, the painting. The more revealing answer might be: memory.
It started well enough; a visit to the hairdresser, dinner with the boy-child and his partner at a new restaurant, preparing to host a dinner party — even checking flights and accommodation for a trip to Christchurch.
Then Covid-19 re-emerged in the community and Auckland returned to Level 3 lock-down for 19 days, ending last night. Today we begin a period in Level 2.5, and wait to see what will happen next.
Confinement to barracks meant I had no excuse not to embrace my “Arty August” project. If I’d been hoping for 31 finished pieces of work, I would have been disappointed. Luckily my goals were more about process than product and I’m happy. I’ve played a lot with watercolours — trying to understand washes and blending; experimented with some air-dry clay that’s been in the art box for a while, and transformed a pair of thrift-shoes into a … 3D collage?
Air-dry clay. Image: Su Leslie 2020
Air-dry clay. Image: Su Leslie 2020
Paint play. Image: Su Leslie 2020
3-D collage? Image: Su Leslie 2020
Work in progress. 3-D collage? Image: Su Leslie 2020
Paint play. Image: Su Leslie 2020
Paint play. Image: Su Leslie 2020
Work in progress. 3-D collage? Image: Su Leslie 2020
Embracing process doesn’t come naturally to me; I am very goal-oriented and naturally tend to become incredibly frustrated when my output doesn’t match my vision.
A few years ago my friend Claire — who is both a talented artist and a very good teacher — said something that stuck with me and helps me find value in everything I make, even when it’s simply marks on paper. She suggested that in each piece of work there is something good; maybe just a tiny part of a sketch that really works, or a blob of colour that’s pleasing. The trick is to find that one thing and enjoy it, celebrate it, and use it to move forward. In the last month I’ve covered lots of sheets of watercolour paper with blobs of colour. None screams out to me as the basis for a work in itself, but together, they suggest materials for a collage.
And if that’s good enough for Eric Carle in The Very Hungry Caterpillar –it’s definitely good enough for me.
Miso-glazed mushrooms, spinach and soba noodles with sesame dressing. Image: Su Leslie 2020
Miso-glazed mushrooms, spinach and soba noodles with sesame dressing. Image: Su Leslie 2020
Buttermilk scones, Image: Su Leslie 2020
Buttermilk scones, Image: Su Leslie 2020
As always, when I’m at home a lot, I cook a lot.
I am finding more and more that I want to eat a largely plant-based diet, and mushrooms are not only a favourite food, but work really well to provide the texture and depth of flavour found in meat dishes. I also love miso and am experimenting with making a miso glaze/sauce for mushrooms. The first attempt was pretty good, but needs tweaking.
And continuing my obsession with scones; I went right back to basics with a recipe from Maw Broon’s Cookbook. If you’re not familiar with Maw Broon (i.e. if you’re not Scots), she is the matriarch of a comic strip called The Broons which has appeared in the Scottish newspaper The Sunday Post, since March 1936.
Maw Broon’s Cookbook contains recipes that have formed the basis of Scottish cooking for generations. Many were handed down from mother to daughter, and on again.
I was interested in the recipe for Puff Scones because it uses buttermilk, and because it calls for plain flour, baking soda and cream of tartar — instead of the more usual self-raising flour. I’m not sure if it was the combination of ingredients, or the fact of adding the acid and alkaline raising agents as separate entities, but the scones were amazing. Seriously; they were the lightest, fluffiest scones I’ve ever made (and I’d thrown in some cheese which often makes them more dense).
They have the Big T’s approval, so now I have to try Maw Broon’s treacle scones … and maybe a wee Dundee cake.
About The Changing Seasons
The Changing Seasons is a monthly challenge where bloggers around the world share what’s been happening in their month.
If you would like to join in, here are the guidelines:
The Changing Seasons Version One (photographic):
Each month, post 5-20 photos in a gallery that you feel represent your month Don’t use photos from your archive. Only new shots. Tag your posts with #MonthlyPhotoChallenge and #TheChangingSeasons so that others can find them.
The Changing Seasons Version Two (you choose the format):
Each month, post a photo, recipe, painting, drawing, video, whatever that you feel says something about your month Don’t use archive stuff. Only new material! Tag your posts with #MonthlyPhotoChallenge and #TheChangingSeasons so others can find them.
If you do a ping-back to this post, I can update it with links to all of yours.
Update
Please visit these bloggers to find out how July played out for them:
Do I approach it literally with the layers of a macaron or a cafe breakfast?
Salted caramel macaron. Not only layering of the biscuits with buttercream, but layers within the baking itself. Image: Su Leslie 2019
Hash-browns, mushrooms, eggs; layered to look good on the plate and distribute those delicious runny yolks throughout the dish. Image: Su Leslie 2019
Or stacked container layers, gone awry in high winds?
Containers, Wellington Harbour. High winds have wrecked havoc with the carefully constructed layers. Image: Su Leslie 2017
More broken layers?
Reflections in the contoured glass exterior of the Govett-Brewster Art Gallery/Len Lye Centre, New Plymouth, NZ. Image: Su Leslie 2017
Or maybe layers in art?
Detail, ‘Wave 2’ sculpture by Annette Thas. A tidal wave of discarded Barbie dolls installed at Tamarama Beach as part of Sculpture by the Sea, Bondi 2015. Image: Su Leslie
Layer after layer of discarded Barbie dolls form a wave shape. Layers of plastic and layers of meaning. Image: Su Leslie 2015
And then there are layers created by the two-dimensional nature of photography; compressing landscapes into bands of colour and texture.
Landscape, Canterbury, NZ. Image: Su Leslie 2019
Tutukaka, Northland, NZ. Image: Su Leslie 2019
Not to mention layered images; double-exposures, super-impositions.
Double-exposures; a newly discovered camera setting. Su Leslie 2019
There is quite a lot of evidence that engaging in creative activities improves health — mental and physical. Writing, drawing, painting, making crafts or music, even doodling and colouring in — they can all help to focus our thoughts, increase our happiness, boost our immune systems and even help treat dementia.
I’ve experienced periods of depression for most of my adult life. Of all the treatments I’ve tried, what seems to work best is making stuff; focusing my mind and hands and energy on some creative project, however small. At the moment, it’s Christmas cards.
I’m always a bit reluctant to recommend anything, especially for something as serious as mental health, but there is a significant body of research behind this — and it works for me.
