As I wandered around the Descanso Gardens last summer (Ha! 9/19/2021), I didn’t really have much of an idea of what I wanted to sketch. I was horrified with the sign of aphids on the milkweed, and just had to walk away. But I was also distracted with the number of workers wandering around the garden. And there were numerous large boxes filled with electrical gear all around as well. I imagined they were laying cable for all the lights that would be needed for the upcoming holiday evening events—Carved and Enchanted Forest of Light. It turns out I was right, as there were signs all around the worker’s trucks and beside the garden paths, alerting us to their intent. Actually, I kind of marvel at that kind of advertising, don’t you? I imagine that such signage is meant to alert everyone of the long black electrical cables winding their way around the paths—a rather daunting safety hazard I think. But it also reminded me that there are those of us who have attended either one or both events in the past, and we should think about buying our tickets for the 2021 holiday season. And for those who had never attended either event, it might peek their curiosity to find out more about what they might be missing. Eventually, I kind forgot all about the aphids, workers and massive spaghetti lines of cable, and wandered into the rose garden. I often head straight for the arbor area that was patterned after Monet’s garden arbor archway. It’s very similar to his arbor of climbing roses and other flowering plants in Giverny. I’m not sure if the roses in Monet’s garden are one’s that he actually planted in the late 1800’s, but they are covered with roses and other climbing plants today. The gardeners at the Descanso have planted some older varieties of roses in their arbor garden area. I discovered the age of some of these varieties one day, when I’d stopped to read the descriptions posted by each one. My favorite old rose is at the farthest end of the arbor, near the rest rooms that look like a charming cottage. (I love that!) That particular climbing rose variety was introduced to the world in 1811 (Rosa ‘Champney’s Pink Cluster’). Not sure why that old rose fascinates me so much. But I love it when I find clusters of those flowers just blooming their little hearts out. And it makes me wonder if that lovely old fashioned perfume is exactly what others first smelled in 1811. (Oh, I learned that if you bend down to smell a charming rose and burp just as you take a sniff, you won’t smell a thing. And of course you will not smell a thing if you are laughing when you try to take a whiff. It’s true. I can tell you that first hand.) If you really look at these older roses, you might notice how much smaller they are compared to most rose cultivars from the 20th and 21st centuries. Also, the colors of those old roses seem to be much more muted and tend to be some variation of pink.
As I turned around to look for a spot to maybe sketch the heirloom rose, I spied this charming squirrel statue in the nearby maze garden for tiny children. It’s funny, but I a rarely go into the maze for tiny children as it seems there are often unattended tiny children running around in there. But I came face to face with this guy and decided to sketch him—both of us standing there “bold as brass.” I was ready to bolt if any tiny children, without their handlers, appeared on the scene. I felt sorry for the squirrel as he or she was rooted to the spot and would not be running away from anything any time soon.
So for this one, I sat beside a tiny creek that runs through the rose garden. And not only did I sit by this bit of moving water, I dipped my brush right into that water as it moved slowly past. I felt very bold. And there were even a couple tiny well behaved children who stopped by to see what I was doing. It was nice. I liked that!
As I peacefully sat there, watching those hummingbirds from afar, I couldn’t help thinking how much my application of pigment to paper puts me into a kind of familiar echo chamber. You might be wondering what I mean. I will try to explain. The echoes I am referring to might be the repeated use of a color. Or it might be the commitment to a certain line to indicate leaves or flowers or even a random squirrel statue in a maze garden for tiny children. It might also be a nod to composition as I try to include/repeat similar shapes. I guess it doesn’t work for me to make everything I render a one of a kind, unless I am focusing on one tree, one lamp post, one building and/or one squirrel. Is this any clearer? I also like the idea that even though I am repeating line, color and/or composition, what I sketch/paint is a single point in time. So, every time I repeat something on the page, it will never look that same again. From sketch to sketch, day to day and even season to season. It will always be something new. I like that! As you may already know, you can make a repeat visit to a place, but it will never be exactly the same as you remember. All those echoes are different, every time. And I love that!
BTW…about last Saturday’s post…something came up. It was my birthday, and I enjoyed a lovely unplanned day. Of course I went to the Descanso Gardens! Stay tuned.