Fantastical: fanciful; unreal; whimsical; capricious; fantastic.
Although I couldn’t get any very good photos of this creation, I think you’ll agree that it certainly is fantastical or any of the synonyms listed above. Can you say sci-fi creatures anyone?
First the good news: yesterday we settled my mom in a care home, something that badly needed to be done. We just couldn’t do everything to care for her at home and my dad can’t do it either. It’s a huge weight off my shoulders but also the main reason I haven’t been around much this last week. Hopefully life will get a little more normal now and I can get back to visiting all of you regularly again.
Anyway…while we were having a non-alcoholic drink in the courtyard at Tohono Chul, I looked around for photo ops, finding some attractive doors. Alas, all three of these had something blocking the perfect shot and it wasn’t a car. This first one looks like one of those doors that can open at top and bottom.
I was so tempted to try to move the holders for the free papers to get all the very cool Southwest door panels. I wonder whether the three without design are unfinished or in process.
That sign and the wet floor stands are out of order as far as I’m concerned. Good thing I didn’t need to use the restroom! But I did use the door.
Dan mentioned how he likes to go where he’s not supposed to go and when I’m close to sculptures like these, it’s all I can do not to touch (a definite no-no.) Look around. No one near? Let’s creep a bit closer, allowing us to appreciate the shapes and lines of Chihuly’s work up close and personal. And oh, the colors!
I can’t resist one more of these. Due to the angle of the shot, the smaller orange shape appears to have a hand to its head (is it “Oh, my!” or “My head’s killing me”?) while the larger one in the middle might be wiping away a tear or getting a speck out of its eye. Meanwhile the blue on the right continues to undulate.
Walking along the path, we peek through the desert foliage to see a small group of colorful columns, some of which seem to be dancing while others stand tall and stately.
I like the way the columns mimic the iconic saguaro cacti; one smooth, one spiky.
Tomorrow we’ll go closer but for today, a final look at the contrasting shapes of these colorful beauties. Don’t the curved ones make you move just a bit? Are you one of the dancers or one of the ones standing calmly and regally?
My aim on Sunday is to use only the one word, letting my photo speak for itself. But I think this photo of the reproduction of a photo of my great-great-grandfather who was born in Derburg, Bavaria, Germany in 1841 deserves a bit of explanation.
His family moved to the U.S. in 1851 or 1852 to farm in Indiana. In March of 1863, he enrolled in Co. F-8 regiment Indiana Volunteer Cavalry, which was with General Sherman during the march through the South. Maybe that’s where I get my love of horses. At the end of the war, he returned to farming, eventually moving to Nebraska. He and his wife had ten children. He lived to age 73 and his wife to 74.
…this might be the result if she were turned to glass (rather than a pillar of salt like Lot’s wife.)
Darling, who IS your stylist? Those curls are divine!
The definition of a door for Thursday Doors is elastic, including a variety of alternatives. My first alternative door today is the door to a Southwestern fireplace that you might find in an adobe home. This one sports Southwestern motifs: two saguaro, a century plant, a quail, a javelina (AKA wild pig or collared peccary), and of course, the sun. Since it has hinges, that elevates it from mere firescreen to fireplace door in my estimation. 🙂
All three doors today are from Tohono Chul Botanical Garden, which we’ll visit more in-depth once I finish with the Chihuly exhibit.
I like that this gate’s center parts are made from found wood, helping it blend seamlessly with its surroundings. It reminds me of the way the people in Costa Rica used long sticks for their fences.
In contrast, this sturdy gate is much more finished, although I’m not sure what happened to the missing bit on the right-hand side.
We enter the garden, we’re stunned by the boat…then we look up to behold a forest of slender trees or perhaps reeds unmoved by any wind. Surrounded by stout, prickly cacti guardians, they rise gracefully, some straight, others in sinuous shapes.
“I need the shade of blue that rips your heart out. You don’t see that type of blue around here.”
― Cath Crowley, Graffiti Moon
Let’s go a little closer.
“If magic was a colour,
That colour would be sparkling blue”
― Lucy H. Pearce,
Then we’ll let the camera takes us where we’re not physically allowed to go…in amongst the creations.
“Humans get hungry for blue, it seems: to hold the sea in their hands, to wear the sky in their hair, to drape themselves in the hazy blue of distant mountains. Blue is more than a colour: it is a feeling. We don’t say that we feel orange or purple, but we say we feel blue when our souls are sad and heavy. We
play or sing or listen to the blues to express this sensation. Like any colour, it cannot be adequately described with words, only experienced, known through the eyes and the soul.
Making blue has always been magic: the domain of alchemists since the beginning of human history. To find red only required blood or berries or the smearing of red clay. To make brown was as simple as
reaching down to the earth beneath one’s feet. White chalk is plentiful in many places, or can be replaced by fire ash. But blue appears rarely in forms from which paints or dyes can be made…blue requires earthly magic.”
― Lucy H. Pearce, She of the Sea
This, that and the other thing 