Plants Acclimating

I have been neglecting my blog. The pictures I have taken did not make me happy, the weather continues to be weird, life intrudes...the usual.

I am getting ready to do a little more plant art. I put the plants outside to get them used to the weather.

I am trying to keep the vines off the ground so they don't take root.

I have found a new way to attach them to the bicycles using gaffer's tape. It should make them a little harder to take. I want the plants to find homes, but I would also like them to stay on the street for a little while first.

I haven't planted anything in this basket so I put some of the plants there. The other basket has weeds sprouting.

Equinox Askew

The season shifted towards autumn rather abruptly. Last week I was planning on putting out some plants.  Then the air turned cool and windy. I felt it was too late in the season to do plant installations. It was probably for the better as a rowdy storm blew through with high winds and heavy rain and took the last traces of summer away.

I brought the plants inside and made some more cuttings. I will wait for spring. Then I hope to have more plants from the cuttings and can really green up the abandoned bicycles of the city.

I like equinox light because it is so clear and sharp. It is a bit harsh for photographs though. It softens at sunrise and again at sunset, I watch the colors melting together as I work in the kitchen. I always seem to end up in the kitchen, chopping something, watching the light in the street.

Today the sharp edges of the light pleased me. I wandered through Soho and was not horrified by the rampant commercialization and luxury explosion that goes on there. It was early in the day and the tourists were not ambling yet.

There is a really cool shop that sells tile. They have mannequins wearing tile mosaics in their windows. I have never really paid attention to the shop, but today it caught my eye.

I have been so disorganized. I feel as if I have to arrange my work better. I need to work on my dream images and eventually find a way to present them. My posts may be a little spotty as I try to get myself together.

Midsummer

I missed the solstice this year.  I had an idea of a way to celebrate, but I was overcome by obstacles. It has been the same all year, the creative things I want to do are being thwarted by rebellious computers, an onslaught of dentists and, special for June, a cat (Voltaire) with a mysterious illness. I am trying to find a way to get things done in spite of the stress. I need to find a way to make the obstacles less imposing. 

The cuttings I made in April grew lots of roots. Leaves were sprouting underwater, so I decided they had to go into the soil before they became aquatic.

The potted philodendrons are a little spindly. I have to wait until they are stronger to put them out.

I think they will settle in and flourish.

The devil's ivy cuttings were happier being planted.

One of the cuttings I planted in April is doing really well so I will put it out first. I have decided to put one plant out at a time, finding a good spot for each one. I have an idea of using garden twine  them more difficult to remove by wrapping it around the pot over and over. Without a pair of scissors, it should be harder to take.

New Plants

The philodendron was overgrown, the pothos cuttings needed to be planted. I pruned and potted. Here are the philodendron cuttings.

I put the pothos cuttings into whatever pots I had.

I haven't been collecting containers to pot the plants in. I had a deli container, but it split when I tried to pierce drainage holes in the bottom. I guess the best thing would be those coconut water containers. They can't be recycled and they are very resilient.

The plants are still settling into the pots and growing in strange directions. Hopefully they will settle down by late spring.

This is one of the plants I brought back from the July street foray. I put the two others out in September. This one had almost died, there was nothing left but a few leaves. I made a cutting and it grew new roots. I am not sure that I will put it back out. Maybe it can be another mother plant.

There were lots of dead stems and leaves woven into the two pothos mother plants. I pruned out all the brown parts and sprayed them both with lots of water. I will trim them back for new cuttings in a few weeks. I only photographed one mother plant, because they both look pretty much alike.

This little plant came from pieces that fell off of its mother plant. I am not sure if they are hardy enough to go out. 

Oddly, it is the only plant that I put in a pot from a recycled water bottle.

Early Spring

The callery pear trees are on the verge of blooming. Once they open, the city will be in a brief intense flurry of white flowers and spring will have officially arrived. It does not seem that we will even have the fluke spring snow.

The forsythia are also close, though I feel that they do not have the usual enthusiasm.

This little tree, probably an apple, has already come out. The trees and plants all seem to be out of sync. Some are all flowery and others are holding back.

I have been working with dream images again and the image I was seeking was at the High Line. I haven't posted the dream picture here, because it is part of a bigger image.

I find the High Line to be a bit precious, but I do like the plant life.
 

This seems like the perfect urban spring image.

Troubles with Moss

I posted this picture first because the moss pictures are not the most dynamic. This parking garage reminds me of what New York used to look like before it became so much luxury housing and chain stores.  It is cool, understated with a kind of blue collar elegance.

I realized that part of my creative block has come from my difficulties growing moss. I know it is possible. Here is a thin strip of moss that appeared spontaneously under the mat on our concrete walk.

I planted some fancy Japanese moss seeds (sporangia?) in shallow pots a few weeks ago. We have been getting plenty of rain and they are sitting on the damp patio.

Nothing is growing though. Some moss growers on the web advise patience. They all seem to live in Seattle.

The moss I transplanted back in August (scroll all the way down) suffered a feline assault when the cats decided to excavate a corner of the planter and buried most of the moss.

Besides a few scrappy survivors, the rest was done in. My dreams of painting anarchy signs in moss are becoming wispier. Still I suppose I have to keep trying.

 

The other day, I went out to gather some moss and make a slurry. I found out that powdered milk is supposed to be a very good moss medium. Hunting for moss left me with many questions. Sometimes there will be a rich patch of moss and nearby, nothing. It does seem to be quite temperamental, although nyc moss seems to have a higher tolerance for debris than the more delicate hothouse mosses. I found all kinds of things in the moss; threads, hair, bits of glass, fur. I gave it all a vigorous washing when I got it home.

Near some of the moss, this odd little plant was growing. It reminded me of lichen although it had leaves. It was very flat and mixed with the moss.

In other news, the amaranth that I chose to symbolize autumn has grown in wild directions and tangled up in the netting from the pea plants like a band of drunken sailors. Maybe that is simply what amaranth does.

Lotus

I have been feeling a bit dispersed since the last round of plant art. I am having a hard time deciding what I should be working on. The weather has not been helpful, brief moments of glorious sunlight punctuate long stretches of cloudy dark. I went to the Botanic Garden hoping that being around a little plant life would inspire. By the time I got there, the sun had once again disappeared. Everything seemed a bit wistful, although the BBG's plants are much lusher than mine.

I wandered over to the water plants, I thought the lotuses would be good in a spiritual sort of way.
 

I was under the impression that the lotus represented rebirth, the flower rising from the water, its petals falling away to reveal the rizome. Admittedly, it seems more 'circle of life' than 'phoenix bursting from the ashes'.
 

When I got back to the internet, I discovered that the lotus symbolizes sexual purity. The flower rises from the mud but remains white.

It turns out all those Hindu gods are sitting on lotuses because they are so pure. Well that was disappointing.
 

At least the lotuses are pretty and all the water is soothing. But I am still feeling restless.

Autumn Equinox

I had hoped to burn a little summer spirit for the equinox, maybe a sunflower, but the forecast was for torrential rain. It seemed appropriate, and I decided to photograph the falling rain to contrast with the vernal equinox.

In the morning the subway was shrouded with fog. But before I could get back, the rain came. It was all I could do to keep from being washed away. I came home sodden, with squishy shoes as the rain eased off but never quite ended.

Then I chose this picture of amaranth as my equinox image. I am so proud of them for coming back strong after being transplanted and outshining the plants in front of my house

I had hoped that the plants in front would grow the spikey things on top, but they didn't.

My other autumn tribute is to these weeds growing in a pothole on the aptly named Greene Avenue, all thanks to the seemingly eternal rain. Although today has been relatively dry, we probably will not see the sun until the end of next week. Holes will form in the streets and weeds will grow in them.

Plants Go Out

I went out this morning with my friend Jessica who was involved in the early summer portrait graffiti. It was a beautiful morning, cool and crisp.

The bicycles with baskets were easier to enliven.

I liked finding places on the bicycle skeleton too.