Well, as if often does, the end of the month has taken me by surprise...so I thought I'd do a series of pictures from my inspiration books on the theme of white. I will miss my white January, I find...I am a lover of white. I like white walls, white clothing, white spaces. The purity appeals to me. Or maybe it's the siren call of a blank page to anyone with a lifelong love of drawing and painting. So it's with a bit of trepidation that I move on to my pink and red February. I am less comfortable with color. Pink, in particular, has been a boogeyman to me throughout life (and in particular after our daughter came home and I was faced with the terrifying prospect of Disney-princess-pink, and all its attendant merchandising). My mother disliked pink when I was a child, and I have disliked pink my entire life. I am even guilty of shopping in the boys' department in order to keep the color out of our little one's wardrobe. Used well and subtly, however, and in the right context and the right mix, pink can be used tastefully. Pink with terra cotta, for instance, is lovely. As with pink combined with orange and red...so I suppose I also look forward to the challenge of presenting it in a way that pleases my eye. Still, yes, I will miss my white palette. It soothes and calms me. It makes my mind feel clear. It has an elegance that is just a bit remote. It is the perfect backdrop. It can be both stark and romantic. And, because white is the combination of all colors, one can create an image or setting that reads "white" with out actually being white. As I was photographing this page, the little dog I recently rescued (it had been shoved out of a car in a park on a bitingly-cold winter morning) lay down on my book. The little dog went on to its new family this morning, and the situation could not be more felicitous. She is a happy puppy and, I'm glad to say, will lead a long and comfortable life. I've always been attracted by the visual created by mosquito netting or white drapes around a bed...which is odd, because I am not a fan of frilly bedding. I like my surroundings to be more masculine than feminine. Still, this sort of image catches my imagination every time. The rescue dog, peering out at a warming winter's day. I got my fill of mountain "style" (and then some) during my 15 years in the Vail Valley, but I still enjoy the European version. Here in the US, without the weight of history behind it, it becomes a bit precious. Train travel. How I miss it. I suppose it's still possible, but one has to go out of one's way to such an extent that it usually gets pushed aside by other priorities. I used to ride the train whenever I could when I lived in NYC...even if it was just the commuter train. I just love the motion and the sound. In Denver, living just outside and above the hub of downtown, we can hear the sound of the trainyards at night. The train whistles, amplified by fog or snow, echo through my dreams. It was one of the greatest selling points for me, even when I was uncertain whether I could stand to leave the higher mountains. Images from Coté Ouest, Cot´Est, Coté Sud, and Marie Claire Maison magazines.
We found this unexpected house in an old section of Denver suburbia, closer to downtown than the enormous sprawl of new suburbia which spreads to the North and South. We have looked to find it again ever since, and have never been able to relocate it.