Pythian Games

put on your track shoes and write the miles

Archive for the ‘Art’ Category

Restoring The Dig Tree

with 4 comments


prompt found at the Dig Tree

I find myself standing amid the debris and destruction that was my dig tree.  I am not disenchanted or downtrodden or sad.  I find that I am feeling strong, happy, hopeful.  I search through the shards and shrapnel of exploded wood with care.  I do not know for certain what it is for which I search, but I am sure I will know it when I see it.  I stand there astounded by how far out the blast area reaches.  Even though the lightning strike had caused a huge contusion, it hadn’t occurred to me that some much could have been thrown so far.  And yet, it obviously had been.  I walk slowly, circling, from left to right, in ever-widening circles, then ever-shrinking circles, over and over again, losing all sense of time and space, going in and going out, as my brain ceases to ponder the whys and wherefores of what happened last time I stood with this tree.   I merely observe and attest to the reality of nothinglessness.

The remainder of the trunk remains attached to the roots seems to be stuck canted half in and half out of the dirt.  I see shriveled blackened roots.  So much of the wood appears to have died long ago, densely choked with noxious black goo, as well as plenty having withered away to tendrils of ash and dust.  However, there is also a lot of healthy growth showing, where there were good times, places where healing continued as best it could under the circumstances.  Even amidst this chaos of death, I can see the tiny fragments of life beading up, demanding their own fighting chance to survive.  I cannot and will not take that from any of them.

I start to think I have spent enough time here, commiserating with the left-overs of the tree.  Apparently, whatever it is I came to find is no longer here.  Or maybe it was the memory alone that I was to gather and hold tight as my own.  I walk away, back towards where I had come from, when I see it, about twelve feet away from the main core of the trunk.  A tiny seedling, gasping with hope and vitality.  My tree does not grow from seed, but from seedling, from an outgrowth from the roots that sends up new shoots at random periodic intervals.  Here I am.  Here is the spark I have been looking for, waiting for, needing to gather up with gracious arms and loving tears, to transplant to another , much safer ground.

With the utmost care and lightest of touches, I clear away the ground, digging around to ensure the safety of the root ball.  The ball of craggly earth that I prise up is nearly three times larger than the sapling itself, but I don’t care.  All I know is I must protect this baby.    I carry it in my arms until I return to my abode, not quite a home, now less than a house since my heart has left it.  I fill a deep wide pot full of the richest soil and plant my tiny tree in the pot, covering it with more fresh dirt and mulch.  I will give it three days to adjust to the changes before I water it, in order to protect the roots that much more, according to the way I was taught by an ancient gardener long ago.

I offer it prayers, send energizing love and sweetest healing powers deep into its roots and its core.  I set crystals around its edges to catch the sun and add that much more healing power and energy to the soil.  I pray over it, weaving ribbons of light around the pot, the trunk and the tiny little leaves that bravely spurn the arena of death we so recently departed.  I know that once I find my Home, I shall dig a wide deep hole and burrow the roots of this tree into the earth there, where I shall nurture and attend to this tree constantly, with all my love and ability.  Where this tree grows shall be my everlasting Home.  Now, in order to protect both this tree and my family, I must look even harder for that home that is meant for us.

drawn and written by Tabitha Kietero

Written by Tabitha Low

August 27, 2009 at 4:43 pm


with 9 comments


Gouache, watercolor, and colored marker

L. Gloyd (c) 2009

Written by Pelican1

July 19, 2009 at 4:16 am

Posted in Art, Art Journaling, Lori

Dreamtime Bouquet

with 18 comments

Copy of Bouquet 006

The dreamy result of a digital picture after manipulation in Photoshop Elements.

Written by woodnymph

September 18, 2008 at 3:31 pm

Posted in Art

Fabric Sectional/s

with 8 comments

I decided to try techniques used in art journaling on fabric, replacing paper collage pieces with fabric scraps to make up the background – just for fun and experimentation.  This is the first section I have embellished with stitch – I have a sneaking suspicion that I shall return to work more on this piece.  I have ended up with 16 postcard size pieces .

As I began to embellish each section I decided to join them into a whole piece rather than forming them into a book as I had originally intended.   I am really liking the result so far………

Initially I was thinking to use this as a background, á la art journal style.   My first thought being to create some form of self-portrait as a surface design…. as these were literally journal sections that I had cut up and reformed,  a representation of my life, albeit for a day or so only, it would make sense to have some form of self imprinted/embellished onto the background.  However, now I have stitched it all together I am not so sure.  At present it is pinned to a wall where I see it often – I will wait until it tells me what it wants me to do with it.


Written by Jill

July 15, 2008 at 11:37 am

Bay Laurel For Pythian Games

with 9 comments


A Beautiful Bay Laurel for Pythian Games…

(Found on a walking tour at Lemurian Mouseion, City of Ladies, Lemuria.)

(copyright Imogen Crest 2008.)

Written by imogen88

July 8, 2008 at 10:25 am

Two Oldies go walking in the winter sun

with 8 comments

Today a walk
in the winter sun
Zoe on a skate board
dog on the run
Jimmie swings past us
laughing his glee
His mother calls careful
seeing white hair
“Old folks have the right-of-way
boys ride with care.”
And we know
the next generation
is going to be just fine.

Written by cronelogical

July 6, 2008 at 8:45 am

Posted in Art

the basket of possibility

with 6 comments

Bristol, a city of famous seafarers, travelers and adventurers, was my birthplace. It is also home to the first hot air balloon factory of Don Cameron . In keeping with the traveler within me, it is therefore fitting that my culture basket should the basket of a hot air balloon. I never thought I would ever get the chance to fly in a hot air balloon – symbol of my dreams – but I have, 3 times. Each flight was magical. The silence of the early morning, the quality of the light and, above all the silence – except for the roar of the flames holding the balloon above.

culture basket

hot air balloon

hot air balloon

hot air balloons

All those qualities of the early adventurers are my cultural heritage: invention, imagination, creativity, dreams, inspiration and the thirst for knowledge.

(the photos were taken at the 11th world hot air balloon festival, Meysembourg, Luxembourg, in August 1993)

Written by traveller2006

June 28, 2008 at 12:30 pm

Posted in Art, Baskets

a circus clown

with 8 comments

This ATC is entitled ‘the clown’s new shoes’

Written by traveller2006

June 13, 2008 at 4:09 pm

Lemurian Secret Society – Everyone Welcome!

with 8 comments

(inspired by circus prompt & Lori’s montages – my first attempt – for all you Grand Poobahs!)


Written by kvwordsmith

May 28, 2008 at 6:48 pm

Two Close Together

with 3 comments

I started to paint clowns. However, while working on the completion of a digital painting of two young Asian girls riding water buffalos close together, I imagined them in conversation about their time at the circus. Guess it is the facial expression without a face (I only gave them eyes) that struck me as circus like.

— genece hamby, contemporary artist & poet

Written by Genece Hamby

May 28, 2008 at 2:00 pm

A Winter Walk in Stanthorpe

with 10 comments

It’s not officially winter until next month here on our granite mountain range, but the leaves have fallen, and there is a definite bite in the air. Later in the year we will have frost, maybe even snow.


No one can say our town elders don’t take their custodial role seriously. These trees in the High St have been cut back and will covered in fresh green growth come spring. This little park looks bare now, but captures every last drop of winter sunshine.


The ducks are still with us, and that lone crane is still standing on his perch in the middle of the river.


This little garden is blooming with bushes and flowers in the summer.

Written by Gail Kavanagh

May 25, 2008 at 11:35 pm

Posted in Art

Floral Chiascuro

with 11 comments

This gift of the muse I wanted to share with everyone – no editing, just a tiny bit of cropping – the beauty of spring in this iris:

(c) Kerry



Written by kvwordsmith

May 18, 2008 at 6:24 pm

Posted in Art, KerryWordsmith

Tagged with , , ,

Winter’s Early Warning

with 3 comments

Winter's Early Warning Two

Winter’s Early Warning,

So beautiful and yet

Bears seek out their dens

and bison paw the ground

Knowing that soon

Snow will be shoulder high.

Ungulates though are unaware

the season of life and death

is nigh…

That only the fittest will survive.


Written by woodnymph

May 16, 2008 at 1:44 pm

Posted in Art

more ATCs

with 11 comments

2 ATCs from Kerry

TOP:  No one can figure out your worth but you. Pearl Bailey


BOTTOM:  You are here. Now what?

Written by kvwordsmith

May 15, 2008 at 11:15 pm

Two new pages/altered text

with 6 comments

Text reads: “She had a child to mother but she wasn’t sure she belonged”.

Media: Acrylics, gouache and watercolour.

Text reads: “her world a strange music of different ways, but she wasn’t going to spoil this”.

Media: Collage and acrylic


Written by Jill

May 14, 2008 at 1:57 pm