I made three different compositions from a couple of photos Susan sent me, this one being the loosest interpretation wherein I tried to create the texture of an old canvas.
Susan told me that I could share her sentiments on my blog, so these are her own words:
"I 've lived here for 23 years and am now moving. This birch is what I will miss most. I want to hang a pic in my new home. I see it as a dancer with her head hidden - her one leg is up in the air. See what I mean? It would be her right leg (on our left).
It's the view from my living room bay window. This is the side I'm in love with.
I've raised three kids and one grandchild and one orphaned niece in this house. Mostly times have been good. But there has also been lots of heartache and worry. I've sat many a sleepless night on the couch in turmoil, gazing at the that view. The view has mixed with my hopes, prayers, worry, love, etc. daily.
At the far base of this tree I can always find four leafed clovers in the summer. Must be a strain of them radiating out. I even found a five leaf clover. No one else thinks that's unusual, but it has me enchanted."
I find Susan's love for this tree enchanting, and am terribly pleased that she liked the versions I came up with.
I wish Susan every happiness, much love, and many lovely new memories to be created in her new home.
Louciao!! What a beautiful painterly feel you have brought to this photograph. Bravo! It will be a treasure I'm sure.
ReplyDeleteSusan: I do see the ballerina in your tree. What a delight. May you be happy in your new environs and enjoy this lovely image that you take with you.
Beauty in image and words! As said above Bravo!
ReplyDeleteI love your interpretation of the tree Louciao.
ReplyDeleteLovely story.
Bonnie,
ReplyDeleteThanks so much! I wish I had just one layer that would give me that exact result every time! Hmmm...maybe I should try developing one! uh-oh.
Blue Sky,
ReplyDeleteSusan's words did, indeed, inspire me while working with the photo she supplied of her beloved tree.
holdingmoments,
ReplyDeleteI feel certain there must be some birds singing in that tree, and I'm sure you'd recognize their markings and their song! Thanks for your visit.
trees hold a lot of power and resonance for me also. one of the sad things at leaving my 20 year rental was leaving the trees.
ReplyDeletethis is a gorgeous rendition of Susan's tree and now she can Still stare at it for solace in her new home. you are so sweet and kind and talented.
sukipoet,
ReplyDeleteThank you for your kind words!
I'm not sure which version Susan will prefer of the ones I made, but this is the one that resonated the most with me as it is more Universal (ie. less specific) in its feeling, I think. I am spoiled by trees here, so don't have a favourite.
A lovely idea! I like the way you've made it seem like an oil painting and accentuated the movement in the limbs and flickering of sunlight on the grass.
ReplyDeleteI wish Susan every happiness in her new home.
Wow, gorgeous!
ReplyDeleteForest Dream,
ReplyDeleteThe original photo has lovely dappled light and dark shades on the grass from the sun shining through the tree leaves. It's no wonder Susan loves that tree.
c,
ReplyDeleteThank you so much. I know you're not at all biased in your appreciation of my talents.
;-)
What super work! Love the way it's infused with emotion as well as veracity.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much for your lovely encouraging comments recently on my blog.
Deborah,
ReplyDeleteAnd now it's my turn to thank you for your lovely, encouraging comment here!
What a beautiful gift for Susan! This post touches me so much because we lost a huge old walnut tree this year, and I still feel the loss when I look out my window every morning. You do form a sort of relationship with trees. You've captured the magical quality of the tree beautifully!
ReplyDeleteRobin,
ReplyDeleteSusan gave me a wonderful challenge. I'm so pleased that she felt I'd captured the essence that she was looking for. We had to have a huge old maple cut down as it was more dead than alive and it was a sad decision to make. Even harder was when my mother had a gigantic cedar tree cut down from her backyard that my father had planted when we moved there in the mid-1960s. It was a great loss, but at least the water view that was revealed once it was gone made up for it.