Aug/100
between oceans and rivers

the marsh, wedged between the ocean and the inter-coastal waterway

weathered salt (red) cedar trunk with perennial glasswort
While at the beach in North Carolina, I like to turn my back on the long row of beach houses and follow the winding game trails out into the marsh. It is a type of selective experience not unlike the viewing of a painting– a decision to forget about what is behind you, and to be absorbed into that which fills your cone of vision. The differences between distant observation and actual immersion are striking. Everything is crisp and bristly in the marsh. What seemed solid now compresses, and what seemed still now moves. With each crunching step I play the role of mythic monster as thousands of fiddler crabs flee before me, comical in their bumping and stumbling. The marsh is a subtle topography of low and lower, the subdivisions most noticeable in firmness of footing and shifts in flora. Glasswort gives way to cord grass, which then inches up into black needle rush. The plants tolerate varying degrees of immersion during tidal flooding, so small shifts in elevation can result in significant shifts in plant life. The marsh is well stocked with edible plants, including the glasswort pictured above. More seductive is the passion fruit, which unfortunately was not yet ripe. I saw passion flowers for the first time while living in Key West, FL. Initially I mistook it for a fake flower, so strange and wonderful was the bloom.

a passion flower, in all of its ridiculous glory

passion fruit hanging from the vine

a gulf-fritillary catepillar devouring the leaf of a passion flower


Pindo Palm fruit
Southern Fox (muscadine) grapes lined the marsh invasively, climbing over anything and everything available. They ripen to a deep purple, but even the green ones can be refreshing in the heat of summer. The fruit of the Pindo Palm is also quite good, and the tree is often used residentially for landscaping.
Jul/100
flora and fauna


wild carrot

I’ve been spending a lot of time over in Forest Park as I continue to study our region’s edible wild plants. We’ve managed to work in a few extra adventures, which included teaching Florence how to catch her first sunfish. I’m not yet certain how to talk about the plant study in relation to my art-making, but it is something that I am working to clarify. In the mean time I will pass along a poem by Louis MacNeice which I was fortunate to come across in the spring. I shared it with my Painting Elective class as a description of their own journey from an the objectivity of an existence “above” art-making to a place down in it– the immersion of experience.
Under the Mountain
Seen from above
The foam in the curving bay is a goose-quill
That feathers… unfeathers… itself.
Seen from above
The field is a flap and the haycocks buttons
To keep it flush with the earth.
Seen from above
The house is a silent gadget whose purpose
Was long since obsolete.
But when you get down
The breakers are cold scum and the wrack
sizzles with stinking life.
When you get down
The field is a failed or a worth-while crop, the source
Of back-ache if not heartache.
And when you get down
The house is a maelstrom of loves and hates where you–
Having got down– belong.
– Louis MacNeice, from Selected Poems of Louis MacNeice, Edited and with an introduction by Michael Longley