Dunga Brook Diary

The rural life through the lens of an iPhone and notes from the field…

Archive for art

Last day of February. Winter in full freeze. Words to live by for Northern climes.

Winter is hard, my dears. Waiting is agony. Until you apprehend the story. The beauty of spring and summer in the northern climes depends on time ticking ever so slowly. Soon enough, the first bud, the first bee, the first peeper in the thawing pond. If not for these endless days we’d lose our wonder at what is coming…You know what is coming…how spring sashays and summer swaggers…even now, in the stillness, you know it well. XO, V

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The Fabulous Beekman Boys Weigh In On iPhoneography

A few thoughts from Brent of Beekman 1802. Happy Birthday, Brent!

Dunga Brook Diary

The Fabulous Beekman Boys Weigh In On iPhoneography

“It seems like virtually every employee that finds their way to Beekman 1802 has creative streak that cannot be suppressed. Even the long days and hard work at a fast-growing company cannot deter.

At Beekman 1802, we love to see artists and artisans that interpret the traditional in a modern way.

Vicki Whicker’s work demonstrates that all of us have a profound tool for creating art literally in the palm of our hand.”

~Brent Ridge and Josh Kilmer-Purcell

http://beekman1802.com/palm-of-your-hand/

https://dungabrookdiary.com/2013/04/04/1693/

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.4972379699741.1073741826.1006731279&type=1&l=9d1922dc22

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Chevy seen through a link and a tiny bit of Thoreau…

chevychain

“One must maintain a little bittle of summer, even in the middle of winter.”
― Henry David Thoreau

 

Last winter we lived on a farm in Fly Creek that had 20 of the most beautiful rolling acres I have ever lived on.

The property was owned by an artist and all through the fields and trails he had set up whimsical finds…

Broken mirrors (the thick vintage kind) in which you could catch a glimpse of the sky and tree branches and your own smile, a lovely wood and rope swing, the wood and rope so thick it was guaranteed to last decades, this chain, vintage glass bottles, all found objects just waiting to be found, again.

Each morning walk with the dogs was a discovery, if nature wasn’t enough there was art .

This land belonged to a certain man with art in his soul.

I could tell it was a labor of the heart, very personal, not meant for wider audiences, a conversation between a man and the universe.

XO, V

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