September 12, 2009. Covered bridge in Zumbrota, Minnesota. As a youth I gave it no attention. As a man, my friends wanted to see it, and once inside its protective walls, I began to have a remembrance of it. From its deeply inset windows you can peer out over a meandering stream, which I know can rage with spring floods. I saw pastoral fields, much like R.E. York did in 1915. I wonder who he/she was with such a precise and extravagant signature.
Showing posts with label Minnesota pastel artist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Minnesota pastel artist. Show all posts
Sunday, September 20, 2009
View from a Covered Bridge
September 12, 2009. Covered bridge in Zumbrota, Minnesota. As a youth I gave it no attention. As a man, my friends wanted to see it, and once inside its protective walls, I began to have a remembrance of it. From its deeply inset windows you can peer out over a meandering stream, which I know can rage with spring floods. I saw pastoral fields, much like R.E. York did in 1915. I wonder who he/she was with such a precise and extravagant signature.
Christmas Ken
September 12, 2009. This is what I did for the day after September 11. My sister-in-law's exhibit went up at the Zumbo River Art Splash. It was the reason I traveled to Minnesota this season, along with the constant of visiting my family. She brought portraits of family members and pets, and still lifes of fruit and fauna. I like her work for its colors, often soft and hazy in its overall impact, until you get close. She displayed a trio of plums, glistening with rain and vibrant with a red that I never expected. She looks for, and captures, that moment that resonates. One of my nieces thinks that every home needs a Ludwig. 
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