Saturday, December 31, 2011

The Gift That Keeps On Creeping

I don't know how it became a holiday tradition to give friends an amaryllis bulb. Maybe it's something about the red flowers. Maybe it's the idea of having something that will bloom in the new year, or the fact that the flower vaguely resembles a seraphic trumpet when it blooms. The Wise Men could have brought the Christ child an amaryllis. I mean, seriously -- it would have been less creepy than myrrh, which was used for mummification and embalming. "Hey kid, welcome! You're going to die a horrible death some day, so we thought we'd bring you some supplies for that." Try bringing myrrh to a baby shower these days and see how that goes for you.

As far as amaryllis goes, I do know that when we got the traditional Christmas bulb gift a few years ago and I kept the pot in our bedroom, the thing gave me the freakin' creeps. For weeks it did nothing, and then all of a sudden, it came out. It seemed much more animal than vegetable, and because my side of the bed is near the sunniest window, it turned toward me as it grew. I would wake up in the morning and the thing would be looking at me in a way I did not much like.

Here's hoping that your 2012 blooms (literal and figurative) do not attack you while you sleep. Happy new year, all!


This poem was strangled by an amaryllis shoot.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

Painting Up a Storm

I've been overwhelmed with writing for work and therefore in more of a painting zone lately, though I'm working on some fiction projects. I find art can be a great escape from the verbal; the painting above is a gouache and ink rendering of fiddlehead ferns.

Check out some more of my work on Etsy.