This box came the day before Easter. I ordered Eucalyptus from California and was so excited to get this!
Even flowers and tiny pods.
Quite a variety. They all were plunged into a vase on the table.
They are so droopy because the natural position is drooping from magnificent branches on even more magnificent trees. I immediately took the sender’s suggestion of hanging a stem over my shower faucet in the bathroom.
Then I found a shirt that seemed like it could use a change of color. Bundled it as tight as I could and dropped it in the pot. Next tried some strips of printmaking papers…with some a light weight kozo.
The shirt has been pulled out after two days to spend at least a week in a basket on the porch. The papers were unwrapped from either a small PVC pipe or sandwiched between two tiles. Conclusion is I do not have the strength to get a good contact but….somewhat usable.
The kozo paper fared the worst…too fragile and I was a bit impatient…fell apart in places. But I am thinking it will be good for chine colle in printmaking.
Today I got out a box of 32 lb cotton office paper and tried dipping edges.
I like the lavender grey of the liquid in the pot. and found another shirt to load with leaves and bundle up. Plus tried rolling up some sheets of paper around a small pipe to add in the pot. I am going to leave them there for a couple days and then they can join the rest on the porch until I have to take a look.
The good thing is my house now smells like a dye studio in Australia. Some of the leaves are still flexible but others have dried out and will find a place tucked in somewhere around here. The variety from the Etsy place (Tierramor) was so much more than the local grocery store gets in for their fresh flower assortment. I will order more from them when I miss the sound and smell of Eucalyptus.
The only other news is I found the perfect bunny to eat on Easter.
Marla is home from Australia and loved seeing the country in person. Can’t wait to see the artwork she bought while there.
So I am off now for a walk. Sadie will hang out here with Dilly.
A poem on what aging is like that I wrote the other day…
I step into the line with only a few left standing.
And grip the shoulders of one waiting
its turn to falter and fall
like the ones behind.
I wrap my arms around it and hold on tighter.
Why didn’t I step in sooner?
Where was I when the
first fell forward?
One glance back and I know
to let go, step away,
and let it