According to Julia Cameron in her book “the artist’s way”, “an artist date is “a block of time, perhaps two hours weekly, especially set aside and committed to nurturing your creative consciousness, your inner artist. In its most primary form, the artist date is an excursion, a play date that you preplan and defend against all interlopers You do not take anyone on this artist date but you and your inner artist, a.k.a your creative child.” On 15 October I took myself off on my first artist’s date. I went for a drive in the car out to the peninsula which was ravaged by fire a few weeks ago.
I drove until the lane petered out and then I got out and walked down to the little bay.
Clouds of crickets burst up around my feet, only identifiable by the flash of their red under-wings. When they came to a rest they were completely invisible, camouflaged into their surroundings. Except for 2 guys cleaning their boat there was no one else around.
After the recent rains I found seeds sprouting – it looked as if someone had thrown down a handful of broad beans which had germinated.
Tall spires of white flowers (asphodels) thrust towards the sky on long stalks with no leaves visible at their base and I saw the tops of huge bulbs everywhere; I think they must be lilies of some sort.
Driving back along the track I noticed that someone had amused themselves constructing a number of stone cairns.
At the top of the hill I could see patches of new green grass covering the burnt areas. Skylarks flew in front of me and high in the sky a bird of prey hovered. There was only the sound of birdsong – bliss.
I then set off to try and take some photos of the huge agaves which are in flower at the moment.
Their “flowers” are immensely tall and I deliberately included the telegraph pole in this photo to give an idea of their size. Once they have flowered they tend to fall over under their own weight and sometimes they are used to make fences around orchards or olive groves.
Two doors away our neighbours have found an unusual use for the dried fennel plants. They have trimmed them and painted them white and “planted” them in the border. The white stones at their base have been covered over with plastic sheeting and tiles to prevent them from getting too dirty over the winter.
It occurred to me that I could cut some fennel stalks myself and spray them and use them as a jewellry tree or as a symbolic Christmas tree.
My booty, which I am hoping to draw and paint, from this excursion included a banana flower, a large “flower” that resembles a giant, elongated, soft fir cone from an ornamental palm tree, 3 spires of the white asphodel flowers, a spray of yellow eucalyptus flowers, a seed pod with bright red seeds from a Magnolia tree and a spray from a bush bearing funny little green fruit that look a bit like miniature apples.
Anatolian Adventures 