Patti Edmon Artist

the petals stun, their red so bold and deep, a promise of radiant spring

I don't normally associate red with late winter, pre-tulip season that is; but when I went for a walk around the neighborhood, I noticed a swatch here, stroke there. Then I began looking for the color red. That's how it often is; we find bits of what we didn't realize we were seeking, in places obvious and subtle.  Walking with my eyes open, awake, aware, I captured the brilliance of a red birdhouse on an otherwise drab morning. The plane of a shutter sweeping out from a window, chimes thoughtfully placed in a spot where the light catches, splattering an array of larger circles across a wood floor. We notice if we're lucky, in tune with the wonders that are too easily buried, tossed in with the unusable, leftovers, the rinds pitched in with compost that loses all color.  Days ago we emerged, blinking like groundhogs in t-shirts reveling in the glory of the long-anticipated warmth, only to wake the next morning to a carpet of fresh snow, again, clumping on buds that foll...

I love the first days of fall, when the nights are chilly and the mornings crisp, the mums and summer blossoms that linger as the trees begin their transformation. I love walking around the neighborhood and discovering all the different ways people express their sentiments about the changing season. I love Third Street Stuff , which now carries my art pieces (yay), always has a warm and inviting atmosphere and a coffee shop that serves freshly roasted brew and a kind of cake - I don't know the name of it but it should be called instant addiction. And pumpkin chai. I also love Hendrick, who makes my pumpkin chai, latte or whatever I'm drinking that day. His smile, like his attitude and his spirit is, well, the best word I can think of to describe him is real. A deep and positive word and a hug from Hendrick have made more than one of my days. I love enchiladas. Especially when my mother makes them and my dad drops them off.  She has been sending me dinner once a week, knowing th...

This is one of my favorite photos, taken during a heavenly late-September vacation in Vermont, a place where one can easily pause in the midst of sublime beauty. If only I could time travel... Found the video at the bottom of this post on Sherry's blog,  Esprit d' Art ,  she'd found it on another blogger's site, who'd gotten from another blog... at any rate, it's well worth the watch.  How often do we take time out to really think... about what might be going on with people we encounter on a casual basis, whether or not they cause us a delay? One of the benefits of living with chronic illness is moving at a slower pace than many people. Over time, it results in living in the moment, paying more attention to the small stuff and taking in more detail. On a bad day it's like standing on the ground while the rest of the world whirls by on a merry-go-round; no stops, no tickets. Invisible illness becomes invisibility. After three years I've learned to appreci...

Kentucky is not known for cactus, or should I say cacti? cactuses? At any rate, there is a guy who lives in a really cool little house with lots of angles and interesting architecture, which abounds in our historic (old) neighborhood. This guy has a very small garden space but a long narrow stretch of grass across the street from his house is his playground. He makes sure the species and blooming cycles provide year round color, interest and fabulous vibes.  I decided to play with this photo, as it really is a green cactus, to enhance the beauty he has already offered. Painting and collaging in Photoshop was my first love, before I discovered the world of mixed media, and I like to go back now and then, to play.  I am ever the novice - if you want to see remarkable photography, visit Elizabeth at  the The Last Door Down the Hall - one look at her banner is evidence of the quality of her work. She also frequently offers free images, many of which I've downloaded for use in projects...

Ever since I joined Leah in the call to be  Creative Every Day  I have payed more attention to the infinite ways in which we express our creative selves aside from making art in the studio - viewing something as simple as a sign or the beauty of nature, how we arrange our surroundings (notice I didn't say 'organizing'),or finding new ways to meditate. Photography has always been my medium of choice for recording my daily walk and I'm always delighted to notice an odd detail in the otherwise ordinary.  I picked my daughter up at camp the other day and dashed into the restroom before making the hour long drive home. Not sure why I felt compelled to take a photograph of this sign, it just kinda cracked me up that such a formal word was, well, a bit worn. If it hadn't been securely attached (and at a church camp:) I might have considered it a found object and brought it home for a bit more grunging. Oh, the other sign said 'Men,' were they trying to save on lett...