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Satin & Sand

~ Reflections on Beauty

Satin & Sand

Tag Archives: beautiful

Beautiful Pumpkin…

25 Friday Oct 2024

Posted by Satin & Sand in Art, beautiful, Hallowe'en, Painting, Poetry, Pumpkin, Reflections

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Autumn, beautiful, Hallowe'en, Holidays, Painting, Poetry, Pumpkin, spooky

© Joan Currie – My pumpkin painting in acrylic on molding paste with bronze and gold paint v.3

Hallowe’en Harvest by Joan Currie

On Hallowe’en, the earth bears gifts of gold,
Pumpkins swell, the squash begins to fold.

The harvest yields its bounty rich and bright,
And I give thanks beneath the autumn light.

But as I walk, the shadows start to creep,
And whisper secrets that the dark can keep.

For Samhain stirs, the Celtic year’s rebirth,
Where ghosts and goblins rise from out the earth.

My mind, so tethered to the harvest’s might,
Now feels the phantoms in the night.

The rational speaks of grain and seed,
But still, the restless spirits sow their greed.

A headless rider gallops through the gloom,
While witches weave their spells beneath the moon.

I walk between these worlds, both rich and strange –
The earth’s abundance, and the night’s wild change.

The harvest calls, yet something darker grows,
As from the underworld, the cold wind blows.

At this time of year, I feel an eerie presence swirling around me in the darkness on my walk home. As I did in my youth, I can’t help but pick up the pace and finally break into a run!

Happy Hallowe’en! 🧡

Beautiful Farewell to Summer and a Quail…

23 Friday Aug 2024

Posted by Satin & Sand in beautiful, Birds, Nature, Painting, Poetry, watercolor

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beautiful, Bird, California quail, Nature, Poetry, watercolor

© Joan Currie – My watercolor painting of a California Quail

A Farewell to Summer by Joan Currie

I sense the shift, the whispered chill,
The tender breath of autumn’s will.
Where once the summer’s golden beam,
Danced lightly in a wistful dream
.
Now lingers faint upon the air,
A fading warmth, too brief, too rare.

The roses, once in bloom so fair,
Now bow their heads in quiet prayer.
Their petals fall like summer’s tears,
While winds begin to wake my fears.
The squirrel gnaws on apples bright,
Then leaves them, half-consumed, in flight.

The clothes, once crisp beneath the sun,
Hang limp, their drying days near done.
No longer do they flutter light,
But cling, as if a ghost at night.
I stand in stillness, heart grown sore,
For summer passed, and nothing more.

I did not seize the season’s cheer,
Nor dance beneath the skies so clear.
Now autumn comes, with somber grace,
To steal the warmth I can’t replace.
And yet, I brace for colder days,
Winter’s chill in a frost-bound haze.

I spotted a California quail while walking in the woods today – a last offering, perhaps, of the summer season.

Beautiful Roses (sort of)…

15 Thursday Aug 2024

Posted by Satin & Sand in Art, Flowers, Garden, Poetry, watercolor

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beautiful, Rose, rose bush

© Joan Currie – My mixed media painting of roses.

A Rose Bush with Barbarous Thorns by Joan Currie

I tended a rose bush with loving care,
In hopes her beauty might my heart ensnare.
Her petals bloomed, a velvet blush of red,
But soon I found her charm, a thing to dread.

Her thorns, like daggers, pierced my seeking hand,
Each touch a wound no comfort could withstand.
The blood she drew ran crimson on the earth,
A wicked price for such a meager birth.

No scent she gave, no fragrant breath of grace,
A beauty hollow, lacking warm embrace.
Where other roses filled the air with song,
She stood in silence, sharp where she was strong.

And though a flower crowned her once, then fell,
She offered little more than this to tell.
A bloom or two, in early summer’s light,
Then naught but thorns to meet my hand in spite.

Oh roses sweet, that gentle hearts adore,
‘Tis not enough – one might yearn for more.
The fairest face is not the fairest soul-
Without the perfume, beauty is not whole.

I finally gave up on this difficult rose bush and replaced it with a tea rose that had the most alluring fragrance. I wish I had done it years ago!

Beautiful Finding Happiness in a Flower…

07 Wednesday Aug 2024

Posted by Satin & Sand in Art, beautiful, Flowers, Nature, Painting, Poetry, Reflections, watercolor

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beautiful, Flower, Nature, Poetry, watercolor

© Joan Currie – My woman looking at a flower watercolor.


The Bloom of Happiness by Joan Currie

In a small and quiet village, lived a woman kind and true,
She helped her friends and family, no matter what they’d do.
Her heart was filled with charity, her hands with gentle grace,
She asked for nothing in return, just a smile upon each face.

But fate, with cruel fingers, wove a twist within her life,
She fell into a sickness, her body racked with strife.
She tried to mend her weary self, with strength she couldn’t find,
And so she called for those she’d helped, with hope they’d be as kind.

Yet each one had their burdens, and other tasks to tend,
They turned away, their busy lives, no time to help a friend.
Alone she faced her suffering, with tears and silent pleas,
Her heart ached more than body, as she fell upon her knees.

One morning in her garden, beneath the sun’s embrace,
She saw a sight that took her breath, and brought light to her face.
A flower, bright and beautiful, bloomed from a plant so plain,
A gift from gentle nature, to soothe her deepest pain.

In petals soft and fragrant, she felt a tender care,
A message from the earth and sky, that someone still was there.
Nature’s touch had reached her, when human hearts had failed,
And in that bloom, she found the strength, her spirit once more sa
iled!

I hold the gifts from nature so very close to my heart, especially in times of need. Every so often, I feel they are my late mother’s way of caring for me – still.

Beautiful White Ram…

06 Saturday Jul 2024

Posted by Satin & Sand in Animals, Art, beautiful, Design, Mammals, Nature, Photography, Poetry

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beautiful, C.K. Chesterton, Federico Uribe, g-k-chesterton, Photography, Poetry, Sculpture, white ram

© Joan Currie – Detail of White Ram sculpture by Federico Uribe – 2013

The White Ram by Gilbert Keith Chesterton (an excerpt)

Once a white ram, with curly horns
and deep brown eyes,
Roamed the verdant hills beneath
the azure skies,
In fields of green, he wandered
wide and free,
A noble beast, grand as one

could see.

His coat was pure, a snowy,
gleaming white,
That shone like stars on a crisp,
clear night.
With horns that curled in a majestic
sweep,
He stood as proud as ancient lore
runs deep.

I saw this charming sculpture of a White Ram by Federico Uribe yesterday. It was created using electrical wire, conduit, and keyboard keys. Check out his latest work (2023): lion, moose, turtle, and black lion, on his website.
I started looking around my house for old ethernet cables to see what I might create, as well. Stay tuned!

© Joan Currie – White Ram sculpture by Federico Uribe – 2013
© Joan Currie – Face detail of White Ram sculpture by Federico Uribe – 2013

Beautiful Canoeing…

23 Sunday Jun 2024

Posted by Satin & Sand in beautiful, Canoeing, Nature, Photography, Reflections

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beautiful, Canoe, Northern lake, Photography, wish list

© James Currie – Northern Canoeing

Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you imagined.
Henry David Thoreau

I am in the process of creating a wish list for this summer. At the top of it – to canoe on a northern lake. In recent years, I have substituted a kayak for a canoe. But, my heart still longs to paddle a canoe at dawn with a quiet j-stroke – on the upstroke, instead of lifting the paddle blade out of the water, it stays in the water. Magical!

Beautiful Pheasant…

15 Saturday Jun 2024

Posted by Satin & Sand in beautiful, Birds, Crafts, Nature, Needlepoint, Poetry, Reflections

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beautiful, game bird, needleppoint, pheasant, Poetry, woodland

© Joan Currie – Detail of my pheasant needlepoint in progress.

A Bouquet of Pheasants by Joan Currie

In verdant glades where pine woods dense did rise,
Beneath a canopy of emerald hue,
There dwelt the pheasants, nye with watchful eyes,
Their clucking whispers soft as morning dew.

Among the shadows, hidden from my gaze,
Their presence marked by crimson, fleeting bright,
Elusive specters in the sun’s faint blaze,
They danced like phantoms in the fading light.

A childhood spent in backyard’s wistful play,
I lingered near the forest’s secret veil,
With heart that yearned for just a special day,
When pheasants bold would cross my playful trail.

Though glimpsed but rarely, they forever stay,
In dreams and echoes of my long-gone youth,
Those pheasants, shy, in twilight’s soft array,
A symbol of a time of joy and truth.

Whenever I see an image of a pheasant, I can’t help but smile! It takes me back to the landscape of my youth where I was so happy playing in the woodlands near my home.

Beautiful Mallard Ducks…

07 Friday Jun 2024

Posted by Satin & Sand in Art, Birds, Needlepoint, Poetry, Reflections, Winter

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Art, beautiful, mallard ducks, Nature, Needlepoint, Poetry, stained glass, textile art, Writing

© Joan Currie – Just found this mallard duck stained glass that hung in my family’s cottage for 35 years.

Emerald Hues by Joan Currie

In days of yore, in times Victorian fair,
By the pond’s edge, with crisp, clear air,
We children gathered, hearts aglow,
To feed the mallards crumbs in tow.

Their emerald heads, with sheen so bright,
Glistened like jewels in morning light.
Majestic creatures, in green adorned,
A sight to cherish, a scene to mourn.

In summer’s warmth, they swam with grace,
Dancing on water, a joyous embrace.
Their quacks, a chorus, a playful cheer,
Echoed sweetly, ringing near.

But winter came with chilly nights,
A frozen pond, no duck took flight.
The waters stilled, the mallards caught.
In nature’s grasp, their freedom sought.

We’d rush to save them, break the ice,
With tender hands, a sacrifice.
To free their wings to let them fly,
Underneath the frigid sky.

Those emerald heads, with memories tied,
To days of laughter, when time would bide.
Still call to mind a youth so grand,
With mallard ducks, and crumb-filled hand.

I remember a kindly police officer who helped us children free the mallard ducks stuck in the frozen water of the neighborhood pond. It was amazing that the ducks survived!

© Joan Currie – My M for Mallard needlepoint nursery pillow completed.

Beautiful Falcon…

17 Friday May 2024

Posted by Satin & Sand in Art, beautiful, Birds, Needlepoint, Painting, Poetry

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beautiful, Birds of Prey, Falcon, Gerard Manley Hopkins, Needlepoint, Raptors, The Windhover

© Joan Currie – My “F for Falcon” needlepoint – just finished and ready to be sewn into a nursery pillow.

The Windhover by Gerard Manley Hopkins

I caught this morning morning’s minion, king-
dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird,—the achieve of; the mastery of the thing!

Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!

No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.

I have become fascinated with birds of prey in the last few months – the variations of hooked beaks and talons are particularly interesting. I will share my paintings once the raptor series is complete.

Beautiful Pears…

09 Thursday May 2024

Posted by Satin & Sand in Art, beautiful, Food, Painting, Poetry, Poets, Reflections

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Art, beautiful, Billy Collins, Claudia Schiffer, Helena Bonham Carter, Musical Tables, Oil painting, Painting, Pears, Poetry, Red pears

© Joan Currie – My Red Pears oil painting on canvas.

The fruit tree heard that
the Bhagavad Gita
recommends surrendering

the fruits of action to God
and so he gently dropped his
pears into Mother Earth’s lap.

Because he did so,
pear seeds
made the world
much more pear-treed.

from Bhagavad Gita: Chapter 5

An Italian proverb states, “in bocca chiusa non cade pera,” – a pear will never fall into a closed mouth. But, to me, there is something about the shape, color, and texture of a pear that makes it almost too beautiful to eat!

© Joan Currie – My pears on linen oil painting.

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