The Silver Disc.

This past weekend the moon was full again. This becomes very obvious to me, when the night skies are clear around the time of the full moon. I live on the outskirts of the city and even though there are street lights nearby, I always have a clear view of the stars and the moon, if the clouds are absent.

I sleep underneath a rooftop window as well, therefore during clear nights, the starry skies and the moon is the last thing I see before closing my eyes. It always surprises me how much light the moon provides. Its illumination is so strong, it at times feels like a lamp has been left on in some of my rooms.

I have always found this cool silver disc very intriguing. Its glow is so enigmatic, it surface so near, yet so distant. Born in the sign of cancer, I am suppose to be effected by the moon, exhibiting moody behavior and transform according to it's different phases. I am not sure how true that is. All I know is that every time the moon is full, I can't help standing still for a while, gazing at it...
Now I only wish I could be able to capture the beauty of this natural satellite of the Earth on pictures as well. I can look at its relief surface and see it so clearly and vividly, yet all my camera sees is a white blob. I guess there still is no measure to the quality of images our own eyes can capture.

Artist Unknown.

I own two paintings that come from the same artist. As with any work of art, I often wonder about this man (or a woman), that placed the brush strokes over the canvases, creating two tranquil landscapes. They seem to be both inspired by a coastline in a warm climate, judging from the composition.

I have placed both paintings on the large south wall of my living room. In spring, summer and early autumn, the setting sun slowly casts its rays upon the canvases, first one, then the other. The warm light amplifies the colours, adding to the perception of the actual sunrise or sunset depicted within the landscape. It is an unusual, almost a magical sight.

Both are absolutely beautiful artworks in my eyes. The way the artist manged to capture the colours of the rocks and the sea, the reflection of the sun in its surface and the meeting of the land and the ocean and the white foam of the surf, is uncanny.
These magnificent pieces were given to me as a gift by my parents. Obtained in a shop that dealt with reselling of artwork, the sellers claimed the artist to be known and the works considered to be of a certain value.

To be honest, the only value these hold for me is a sentimental one. I genuinely love the style, the concept and the motifs. However, I still wonder who the artist is or was and where and when these artworks were created. The signature is difficult to read and makes no sense to me. I have tried to search the net on names that the letters might represent, but no luck.

Does any of you have a suggestion of what the name is of the artist that signed these paintings?
(Please click the below image to enlarge.)

What Is In An Autumn Leaf...

The turning of the foliage is something we are very familiar with, at least those of us who live in parts of the world that experiences the four seasons. We accept and relish in the colours of golden, reds, purples and browns that turn the landscape into warm paintings created as if by brush strokes of a skillful artist.

But only few of us ever consider the reason and the means by which this natural phenomenon take place. So, why do leaves change colour?

Interestingly enough, the complete details of this process are not yet understood, but scientist do know enough to be able to explain the basics.
Leaves are the food factory of the tree. Water is transported from the ground through their roots and together with carbon dioxide from the air and sunlight, plants can produce glucose, a kind of sugar. This process is called photosynthesis. Glucose is what we might consider being the food for plants, which makes them thrive and grow.

Leaves do naturally contain several colours, even reds and browns, but the dominating colour during the spring and summer is green, which comes from the pigment called chlorophyll, an important chemical vital for the process of photosynthesis.

When summer comes to its ends and autumn arrives, the days become shorter and the absence of light is obvious - this onset of darkness is the signal that prompts the trees to begin getting ready for winter. During winter, there is not enough light or water for photosynthesis and it shuts slowly down, commencing in the fall. The green chlorophyll disappears from the leaves and as it fades away, we begin to see the yellow, red and orange colors. The intensity, the onset and the duration of this turn depends very much on the weather, the climate and the latitude. Sunny, warm days and cold nights produce the most stunning colour displays. The color variation also depends on the bushes and trees and the variety and amounts of the pigment stored in their foliage.

As autumn progresses and reaches its end, the veins that carry fluids into and out of the leaf gradually close off, producing chemicals that will seal the leaf off from the tree branch. This is on order to prevent the leaf to freeze and damage the trees. Once this separation is complete, the leaf is ready to fall.

The tree then enters a state of winter dormancy, not shutting down completely, but resting. Some metabolic and developmental processes do take place in it's buds and twigs, while it prepares for spring and the onset of yet another yearly growth cycle.

Stormy Weekend.

The storm is continuing today as well. Although it is partly sunny, the wind is very fervent. I do not like the wind. There is something about it that makes me anxious. A gentle breeze or a majestic wind that fills my lungs with fresh air and caressed my face upon a brisk walk is very welcomed. But a fierce wind, that can be damaging and devastating to trees and to people holds very little of my affection.

I hate seeing the birch trees just outside my windows bending to the bursting point and the sound the heavy gusts create in my chimney fills me with extreme unease. Even more unsettling is seeing the window pane of my windows facing west, against the wind, flex in and out, as if made of cardboard. I guess this fear comes from the fact that here autumn and winter wind storms can be destructive and have caused floods and damages to houses and people before. Our European storms, just like the Atlantic hurricanes are categorized and named. The last major storm, called Anatol occurred about ten years ago, just a few days prior to when I was returning from my nine year long stay in the US. It devastated parts of Scandinavia. The storm that I remember best from my years in my white house on the hill was Gudrun in January 2005. It vividly brought back my two hurricane experiences in the 90's and reminded me of the fact that nature's fury can never be underestimated.

Below my ongoing update of the birch tree, that slowly gains more colour by every passing week.

Autumn Garden.

Today we are experiencing the first autumn storm. The west coast is being pounded by hurricane winds and hard rain while we in the east feel the force of this storm in the violent gusts that rip through the trees outside and make my chimney howl.

In my mind and my pictures I rather revisit yesterday. It was one of the most beautiful autumn days on record. Sunny, cool, wind still. The air was fresh and nature bursting with colours. It was my day off and became one of those days when everything is just right. I spend most of my Friday outside, tending to my garden an terrace, an activity I enjoy immensely. I purchased fall flowers and plants, such as Heather and plenty of evergreens, which are hardy enough to survive the winter. And of course a pumpkin as October is not right without one. I also planted a plethora of spring bulbs, hoping to be greeted by multitude of Crocuses, Tulips, Daffodils and Hyacinths comes February-March.

When I look out onto my backyard as I write this, I can not believe the difference one day can make. As the rain is pounding at my window panes, and the hurricane force gusts forces the tress almost to level with the ground, the below picture collage seems almost unreal.

Flashback Friday: "L'amour Est Bleu".

"L'amour est bleu" was composed by André Popp and written by Pierre Cour. In 1967 it was performed by Vicky Leandros as the Luxembourgian entry in the Eurovision Song Contest. (The original enthralling, almost vulnerable performance can be found here).

I was born that year and even though I can not claim to remember the song as a hit, I am familiar with the later remakes of this fragile, melancholic piece, most notably the Paul Mauriat instrumental version from 1968. I knew of it for decades, but became completely infatuated with the compilation in the 90's, when I bought an album with a collection of the most romantic instrumental pieces entitled "Love is Blue", by Paul Mauriat and His Orchestra.

There are very few instrumental melodies that appeal to me, but this one envelopes my heart every time. Riddled with musical intervals that are so significant of the 60's, it nevertheless sounds ever so timeless, fitting adequately in any decade due to its reference. There is something infinitely delicate about the harmony, full of unrequited longing, hiding a certain kind of sorrow. But then again, that is the intention of this lovely musical gem I guess; to convey the endless power of love and the bittersweet sensation that this universal emotion leaves us with at all times...

Stone And Glass.

I do not make my own jewelry, but I think I would enjoy it if I had the time and the experience.
To me jewelry appeals the most when it is different, unique in material or design. I like it to resemble or reflect the beauty of the metal, glass, or leather, using the motifs of nature or history. As in ancient times, jewelery was adornment, but it also had a meaning to the bearer. To me the most beautiful pieces are those made as copies of actual Historical Jewelry. Such as the Native American, Viking or Celtic jewelry.

When I took a walk with my parents on the beach this summer, I found a stone that was naturally hollow. Interestingly shaped, it immediately resembled a pendant to me. When some left over glass pebbles and a dark string was added, it created a piece with a natural feel of stone and glass. I love the result perhaps not because it is well made, but because it is a beautiful gift of the sea on a sunny summer day, bringing back memories of the best things in life.

Time For Chimney Sweeping.

I can not believe it is almost a year ago that the Chimney Sweeps came by last time. This morning they payed me their yearly visit and cleaned and inspected my chimney, making my fireplace ready for another year of fire burning.

I find myself completely fascinated by these men in their dashing black uniforms. To me it is almost like being transported back in time, as very little or almost nothing has changed about them through out history. They still wear black, they climb roofs and use similar instruments to clean the chimneys, with perhaps an exception of a powered vacuum cleaner. What strikes me about them today is their happiness. Incredible joy in their smiling faces, that is so rarely encountered these days. They were laughing, while soot was soiling their hands, exposing their white teeth in broad smiles in such a contrast to their ashy cheeks, while they kept telling me about their craft and how much they enjoy being outside at all times of the year. In return I think they relished my fascination with their profession and I made sure to touch the buttons of their uniform this time around, something that I forgot to do last year; in my culture this brings good luck.

The demand for Chimney Sweeps has been in decline over the last few decades, but interestingly, it is rising again. This might be due to many reasons; the financial crises being one of them, thus wood burning fireplaces and furnaces becoming an alternative heat source.

However, I'd like to believe that we are perhaps also trying to return to a simpler way of life. In today's world, when technology changes every second, bringing advances each day, our reality feels at times overwhelming, leaving us disconcerted and confused, perhaps even anxious and tired. Therefore it is comforting to occasionally return to something very familiar and basic, such as the simple act of lighting a fire in a fireplace.

Fire equals life and already the primitive man regarded it as a divine gift. Today, watching the flickering of flames can be instrumental in bringing us back to times of campfires, when we felt unified and safe and the connection with nature was ever so palpable.

Do Not Disturb, Please.

I write a lot about my cat, the Batcat. I guess I devote a lot of my posts to him, because he is a great pet and at all times an excellent companion.

I work long hours and even though I would love to have a dog, it would be just too cruel to leave him alone for over ten hours each day. Batcat on the other hand doesn't mind at all, in fact I think he quiet enjoys being in charge of his kingdom while I am gone. Being an inside cat, he is extremely calm and loves to sleep and to relax. And that is fine with me, as I love those activities very much as well.
And then, he is also extremely cute.

Abut five months ago Batcat developed a new habit. Every morning he would come up to my bedroom, jump on the bed and demand attention. I used to be one of those people who would objected strongly to this previously. I found having animals in bed or even on bed unhygienic and strange. Hmm, but little did I know I was slowly changing my principles in this respect.

It is impossible to throw ones pet that purrs loudly and plays cute, off the bed. IMPOSSIBLE. When he presses his little furry head against my hand and relaxes completely, it makes me relax too. I actually sleep better, something I would never expect.

Well, these days Batcat actually sleeps on the bed each night. As on a cue, as soon as the lights are out, I can hear his soft pads on the stairs. Then he meows loudly once and jumps up on the cover, making himself comfortable on the lower right side, purring loudly. I find myself drifting to sleep easily too, while listening to his rhythmic expression of satisfaction.

And every morning he appears so relaxed, playing cute, refusing to get up again, as seen on the clip below.