June

I’m besotted with June,

When all the roses bloom.

I’m head over heel with the scents,

The roses exude.

Though they prick me.

Oh yes, they prick me!

I’m too infatuated to care.

D. Yustisia 06/12/16

pinkroses1

pinkroses

pinkroses3

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The Irises Party

The weather has been glorious lately and visiting a garden seems to be perfect. On Saturday afternoon I visited Pardee Rose Garden because I know the irises are blooming everywhere and I’m pretty sure there will be some there. When I got to the garden, I saw the row of irises beautifully lining up on the outer side of the fence. It seemed like a party was happening in the garden by looking at the many colors the irises showed. Perhaps that’s what made Vincent van Gogh painted the Irises before he died. He captured the irises’ details intimately and created a stunning perception. I can’t paint as good as van Gogh, but I tried to capture the details I saw from the irises in the Pardee Rose Garden through my camera. Please, enjoy!

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

The Study of Cyclamens

It’s the third month already in 2016 and I realized I haven’t been writing or posting any journal on this blog. I just started Instagram and I enjoy it so much. Through Instagram I know a couple of watercolor artists. I adore their artworks that involve so many details and brilliant colors. These watercolor artists often painting one particular object, such as a flower, and study it meticulously. I was inspired by their watercolor study that I call this journal “the Study of Cyclamens”. Cyclamen is a very unique flower. Its petals open up upward just like a swan lifting its wings. Cyclamens only available during winter and they are among the perfect flowers to lift up your spirit especially when winter feels too long. I got a pot of cyclamens from our market recently and I chose the white ones with frilly petals. I love them a lot and so far the cyclamens keep on blooming and I hope they will thrive for another season (I actually read how to take care of cyclamen after the blooming passes, so let’s see how it’ll turn out).

 

cyclamen2

cyclamen1

cyclamen5

cyclamen

cyclamen3

 

 

Romance

ROMANCE, who loves to nod and sing,
With drowsy head and folded wing,
Among the green leaves as they shake
Far down within some shadowy lake,
To me a painted paroquet
Hath been – a most familiar bird-
Taught me my alphabet to say-
To lisp my very earliest word
While in the wild wood I did lie,
A child – with a most knowing eye.
 
Of late, eternal Condor years
So shake the very Heaven on high
With tumult as they thunder by,
I have no time for idle cares
Through gazing on the unquiet sky.
And when an hour with calmer wings
Its down upon my spirit flings-
That little time with lyre and rhyme
To while away – forbidden things!
My heart would feel to be a crime
Unless it trembled with the strings.
 

Edgar Allan Poe

Taking a Bath (Burnett Fountain)

 

The first time I knew of Edgar Allan Poe was when I was in college. I wasn’t accustomed of getting to know an American poet ( I was still living in Indonesia back then). I read his poem called “A Dream Within A Dream” and “To My Mother” and fell in love right away with his words. When my mother passed away several years ago, what came to mind to describe my mourning was Poe’s poem about his mother. I felt as if the poem was my own words to relieve the pain from losing someone so dear in life. Then, when I took the scene above when my girls and I visited the Conservatory Garden in Central Park, New York, and thought of using it to represent another poem, Poe’s “Romance” was it.

I Spy With My Eyes

We live in a regular neighborhood. There doesn’t seem something extraordinary about it. Some part is quieter than others and some is busier. One afternoon I took my son biking and that means, I would run with him or try to catch up. Realizing what a gorgeous afternoon it was, I brought my camera along. On the way to left and right, without certain destination, I looked for something in this regular neighborhood that I’ve come to love, that maybe has some special angles and curves. When I eventually saw several things, I remember a game book that my son and I used to read, called “I Spy”. I had that “aha, I found it” moment here and there. Have you played that game before?

I spy with my eyes:

  • canopies of pear blossoms,
  • some violets under the stairs,
  • a vine-tangled gate,
  • orange daffodils nodding with the wind,
  • an angel guarding pansies, and
  • a hidden nest under forsythia.

 

Pear Blossoms

Violets Under the Stairs

Vine-tangled Gate

Narcissus

Angel & Pansies

A Hidden Nest