This blog is in honor of my mother.
She taught me to see and to love color. Thanks, Mom!
A gold star with yellow light shining through it. The star (7 points) is made of corrugated gold and purple metal; it's set in a stone with red, green, and gold designs in it. It opens up onto a radiant abyss (or so I wish to believe).
An alien ship against the vault of Heaven, stars swirling around a curious purple stone, or the eye of a dragon? It's whatever you like, I guess. I've always been partial to dragon's so I'm going with that one. It's a purple disk like object with a pale center on a background of black with glittering metallic gold threaded through it. I wish I could remember how I made it.
You could see it as a glass globe filled with gold and amber light; a marble; or something highly reflective reflecting the image of something that you'd rather not know is looking over your shoulder. Your choice! It's a shiny, golden sphere with whorls of reddish amber in the center. The background is black; the frame is gld. Yes I'm certain the thing reflected is (1) male; (2) standing behind my chair; and (3) an alarming orangish red. Have a look for yourself.
Very sixties and an experiment with some of the texture options in Paintshop Pro. Hard to believe it started out as a few random lines on a white background. It's a 14 rayed star or sun with neon blue rays coming out of a neon yellow center (against a red background), and with the whole against a backdrop of lime green and black. The center has some interesting lacelike effects and a delicate pink center with blue inside it. Sort of emblematic.
Shut up; I was fascinated by Mary Magdalene way before Dan Brown even thought about The Da Vinci Code (a book I couldn't get through).
Gemlike stars in a silvery pink set with carnelians and rubies on a crimson background. In the center is a dark red rose. This is female energy, Venus, the evening star (which sometimes appears while the sky retains some of its sunset-tinted redness).
More of that Seventies feeling, this time in vibrant neon purple and green with a central five-pointed star made from multi-colored fabric, framed in black. The colors include purple, neon green dark red, charcoal grey and ivory, but the hot purple and cooler green predominate. Sometimes cool tones can be hot; and the picture itself generates pleasantly retro vibes. Everybody is a star!
Digital artwork and background/wallpaper: Lily-petaled 16-rayed star carved from ivory surround an 8-pointed central star in Indian carpet colors and patterns. The colors are ivory, blue, charcoal, green, blue, and yellow.
This is obviously a day of musical nostalgia, because what popped into my head when I was thinking what to call this picture was the Jethro Tull song, "New Day Yesterday." I think of all bands of any time, Jethro Tull is my favorite. Yes, even more than the Beatles. I love the flute and the lyrics and the echoes of music from the days of Merrie England. When I listen to it, I get teary with excitement, the sort you feel when you feel that the approach of The Green Man himself is imminent. Alas, he never shows himself here. He never immigrated, not even for awhile.
But anyway: "New Day Yesterday." In your mind, the sun was talismanic, the dark already beginning to break through, and the reality almost too painful to evoke.
This is just the outline of what you can bear to remember. I played that song constantly the first time I fell really in love, the besotted sort that you know is doomed.
Sometimes childish things are just what you want. A primitive silver star in a halo of silvery rose, enclosed in metallic violet-tinted wire, is set against a background of cloudy grey fiber, forming a sort of cloud---the sort you drew when you were about five. The greys and purples are restful to the eye, yet still reasonable stimulating.
With all due respect to Sir Paul and the most talented of them all, John Lennon, Harrison was always my favorite Beatle. I liked his long solemn face and hazel eyes, and after it was all over for the Beatles, I loved the way he came out of his shell and gave us "All Things Must Pass" (especially "Apple Scruffs"). I loved "Dark Horse." I loved "Somewhere in England." I even liked the silly songs he made with the Traveling Wilburys.
He's gone now, and it seems unfair: to have lost two of them at tragically premature ages. John's the greatest; I know that; but with John, there's always Yoko standing in the middle right between him and you, don't you think? He never seemed to belong to the rest of us once she came into the picture, and I really like her, but somehow she's always in the way. Which is why I think she's so universally resented: the mates of geniuses shouldn't obtrude themselves between the genius and the adoring public, and she and he disregarded the principle, more power to them.
But anyway: George. There was always something tragic about him: all that talent subordinated to the service of the talky ones and then never really in step with the times. In the films, he was portrayed as quiet, wistful, passive. That was his appeal to a certain type of younger fan (and I was a VERY young fan, 20 years or so younger). Nearly a baby. I never got to go to their concerts and scream orgasmically or anything.
Here's to you, George Harrison. Nothing I could do would ever be good enough, but here's what I've got right now:
A dark star in rich shades of teal enclosed in an even darker one in deep violet. There's a glitter to the image, but it's subtle. When there are brighter, shinier ones about, you almost don't see what it contributes to the night. But when it's gone---wow, you feel its absence.