The Blue Balloon

On New Year Day I went outside to feed the birds and squirrels.  A blue Mylar helium balloon was entangled in our brush.  I extracted it and brought it inside, where I tied it to my lamp on the piano.  It happily floated to the ceiling, remaining there until just a few days ago, when it began to drift lower and lower, until it finally ended up on the keyboard.  I cut it loose, and it slowly drifted around the house today.  At one point, it silently soared over a sleeping cat, then landed in the empty cat bed right next to him.  On the side of the balloon, in marker, was written "Bugs Not Hugs," a somewhat skewed version of the popular "Hugs Not Drugs" saying, something that amused more than one student at their weekly piano lesson.  Anyway, the balloon got two more months of existence, but it has now come to the end of its useful life.  It likely originated in Michigan, floated across the river and landed in our yard.  That is the end of my balloon story.

Today I saw my optometrist, and procured a new prescription for reading glasses.  I require glasses at 50 cm for my piano music reading, and about 20 cm for reading.  I do not need glasses for distance vision.  They are going to be graduated lenses, so hopefully they will prove useful.  They will be ready in a week or so, and then I'll take a week at least to try them out, before deciding on a concert date.  The woman who assisted me at the desk was a former student, one that I remember with fondness.  She lives quite close to me, and even offered to drop off the glasses at our house when they are ready!  That's Amanda D. for you.

Yesterday I saw my retina specialist.  It had snowed again overnight, and the school buses were cancelled.  The roads weren't bad by the time of our travels (my appt. was at 9 am), but due to the eye drops I was given to make my pupils large, it sure was bright coming up, with all that fresh, new fallen snow.  No drops today, just a quick checkup and eye test.  Yesterday Deb was able to get her bi-monthly blood test in the same building as my retina exam.  All is well with my retinas for this year!

Tomorrow Deb has an echo cardiogram in  Windsor.  Before that we will head to Detroit for lunch, and a mailbox visit.  I have four SF books awaiting.  Yes, I order a lot of books.  However, in the short month of February I managed to read and review 12 books!  The next blog will talk about the February reading highlights.

And now on to today's painting!

 The Window, by Matisse, 1916.  Detroit Institute of Arts.

146 cm x 117 cm.  

Most of our own landscape viewing is through our two front picture windows.  We see the Detroit River in all of its moods; bright and sparkling, grey and menacing, with white caps, calm and reflective, ice-covered, ice flowing, with huge ships, with small sailing boats, and especially at sunset, like just now.  In front of the river from our vantage point is a Native American cemetery, with its trees, and our own grass and trees.  Dozens of times each day we look outside, often to see which birds or squirrels (or ducks) are feeding at the bird feeders.  We have a small flock of goldfinches that have been around lately, too.  The ducks usually arrive during the first week of March, and have been coming for years now.  They come for the corn and the drinking water, and frequently nest in the creek bed.

Most of us view landscape through windows, whether from our homes, cars, trains, buses, or even airplanes.  And most of us view urban landscapes.  Very few of us get to observe the wilderness, and experience it first hand.

Matisse also seems interested in urban landscapes.  His carpet has leaves or trees, there are fresh flowers on the table, and a tree and some lovely green growth can be glimpsed outside.  I can't wait to look out our own windows and see green things again.  There has been a lot of white this winter, with yet more on the way for Saturday.  I guess I chose this work because I need some green in my life.  It is coming.  Slowly.

Mapman Mike