Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Haying: Progress—Sort Of

Well, this is a woeful pace I’m working at—but it’s all I got. Todd’s been hovering over my shoulder saying, “Now, remember about overworking it—what have you learned from past experiences?” To which I reply, “ta not ta” (but I don’t really mean it).

It turns out my brown ‘waterproof’ ink is not so waterproof—(I think a waterproof ink should have a longer-than-twenty-year shelf life before it starts breaking down). Well, at least hay looks brownish at harvest time. At this point, it’s hard for me to take this piece seriously, so at least I’m not all in a bunch over it anymore. I’m just posting this so you won’t think I hacked it to bits or lined the proverbial hamster cage with it. I think I’ll just call it what it is—experimental—and play with some more color and then call it done. To be honest, I’m itching to start something more along the lines of my usual—just have to find the right subject…

…and I don’t know what happened over there on the right-hand horizon—okay, well, I do know what happened but I don’t feel like elaborating…
...and I sort of fixed the problem grass under the guys arm—not that anyone but me notices...


  1. You know I haven't a wit of artistry in me...but I like the wide expanse of sky, the space, the feel that to some degree, the hay goes on and on and on.

  2. Okay, Liza, it simply isn't true that you don't have a wit of artistry in you--your photography belies that claim. You have a sense for what appeals to the eye, and so I value your opinion. The very feel of the hay going on and on and on is also what drew me to the photo.

    I also love the contrast--the incongruity, if you will, in the sense of urgency that the harvesters display in their tireless work, and the lackadaisical stance of the children. What is that little boy looking at?

    I so wish I had been there to take the photograph!

  3. Timely post JB. We're in the midst of the final hay harvest. The poke has been unloading semi loads of round bales and is at the moment cutting alfalfa at a neighbouring ranch. Your piece appeals to the prairie born and raised in me. I can smell the dry grass, I can touch it... I just need the blue sky and the heat of the sun to feel this scene..

  4. Deb!!! So wonderful to see your face! I had the feeling you might like this one.
    I have to admit that as poorly as it started off, I feel more excited about finishing it, and the challenge of getting you into the scene so you can feel it is added incentive.

    Thanks so much for stopping by and leaving a note. Hope all is well with you and that the harvest is a success...

  5. I don't know what you're talking about. I still think it's lovely!

  6. Michelle, I have to admit, it is growing on me...


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