Outsider Flower Pot

This flower pot is for Dennis, I just know he'll like this "outsider" art. I'm sure he and others will have lots of ideas on how to decorate it. Just let your creative ideas (I could have typed juices) flow on this one!


I rescued this gopher tortoise crossing the road the other day. If the tortoise is facing one direction you're supposed to put them on that side of the road. If you don't they'll just cross back over again; they know where they're going. Meanwhile we're getting ready for our community wide neighborhood sale, still paring down to necessities and in the hopes of traveling again some day. Coming up later this week apparel news and more junkyard inspiration. Oh, tomorrow is a white rabbit day. Thanks for all your comments, suggestions, and encouragement; I read all your comments and enjoy visiting your blogs too.

Forest Full of Ferns

The forest is full of ferns now. I cut only one frond and not the top one to protect them for next year. I also cut a few sumac leaves and a feathery weed I used in the first tile. I made trays and tiles using the leaves as a resist with stains and slips. The reddish brown colored ones are made with the Florida clay slip.







Gary called the last one cosmic leaf. Hope you're having a good weekend.

Birds of a Feather

The other day when we went to the junkyard we stopped at a small flower and herb nursery along the way. I was so enamored with the birds, I forgot to take photos of any flowers. The owner said I could have this rooster, but I said I didn't think my neighbors would appreciate that. The rooster was busy scratching in the thick mulch looking for bugs and wasn't even phased by me. Apparently the owner had given three roosters away the day before. I was wondering why he had so many roosters.


Later I saw this stylized metal rooster sculpture and was inspired by it. He's got a cute looking personality. He'd be nice on a tile, I think. I tried sketching him, but my sketch wasn't loose enough. I need more practice. He reminds me of the kind of rooster Meredith's sister Lee would have drawn on a tile. Click on the link to see some of Lee's tiles, I especially like the blue rhino.


Then under the shade cloth I saw this large parrot. Behind the parrot is a green bean vine trained to grow up on a cable. The vines shade the windows from the hot summer sun, which I thought was a pretty ingenious way to reduce air conditioning costs. Yesterday it was 95 F but the weatherman said it felt like 105 F. Now that's hot even for Florida. Hope you are having a good weekend.

What Is That ?

I was sitting at the kitchen table and wondered what the black thing sticking up out of the ground was. I said to Gary, "Gary what is that"? Gary said, "What"? I said "That black thing by the drain pipe". Gary said, "I don't know". The orange tipped stake marks the outlet for the drain down spot out in the yard so Gary doesn't mow over it. We both tried to figure out what it was.


Then we noticed what we thought was a stick move and realized it was a snake. The snake stayed there surveying the yard for almost half an hour. At one point he was half way out. Apparently black racers hunt by sight and he was surveying the yard in all directions for prey. Gary went outside to get a better photo for me and the snake went backwards into the drain pipe underground. He must have seen Gary come out and was frightened. We both saw him go backwards. It was amazing.


I was thinking this was the same Black Racer I saw in the front yard, but then he came all the way out of the pipe and I saw he was much bigger than the last one. This one is more than 8 feet long. Look at the back half, he is shedding his skin and it's not all the way off.


Later Gary smoothed out the sand near the drain pipe and the next day he noticed the snake has gone back in there again because the sand had a depression where the snake had traveled across the sand into the pipe. I took the snake photos from inside the house through the glass.

I found this amazing video of a snake shedding his skin, you have to watch, the detail is incredible. Up next another trip to the scrap yard with more photos.

The Mountain Whippoorwill

When I lived in Arkansas there was a saying "When you hear the first song of the whippoorwill in Spring, it's time to plant peas". Of course they meant black eyed peas, that was understood. I discovered this ballad called The Mountain Whippoorwill: How Hillbilly Jim Won The Great Fiddler's Prize by Stephen Vincent Benet. This ballad reminds me of childhood visits to my Grandma Ruth's in Arkansas. I miss my grandma, she lived to be 98. It's rather long but well worth the read; think of it set to fiddle music.

If you want to hear a you tube version from the 1970s Florida folk festival by the Ozark Mountain Dare Devils, please scroll down to the end. Apparently the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band recorded this in 1974, but I couldn't find it on you tube. Last night I found myself reading this aloud with a rather quick cadence, it was fun. There were several renditions on you tube of folks reading this ballad, but very slowly. In my mind this should have a quicker tempo.

Up in the mountains, it's lonesome all the time,
(Sof' win' slewin' thu' the sweet-potato vine.)
Up in the mountains, it's lonesome for a child,
(Whippoorwills a-callin' when the sap runs wild.)
Up in the mountains, mountains in the fog,
Everythin's as lazy as an old houn' dog.
Born in the mountains, never raised a pet,
Don't want nuthin' an' never got it yet.
Born in the mountains, lonesome-born,
Raised runnin' ragged thu' the cockleburrs and corn.
Never knew my pappy, mebbe never should.
Think he was a fiddle made of mountain laurel-wood.
Never had a mammy to teach me pretty-please.
Think she was a whippoorwill, a-skittin' thu' the trees.
Never had a brother ner a whole pair of pants,
But when I start to fiddle, why, yuh got to start to dance!
Listen to my fiddle -- Kingdom Come -- Kingdom Come!
Hear the frogs a-chunkin' "Jug o' rum, Jug o' rum!"
Hear that mountain whippoorwill be lonesome in the air,
An' I'll tell yuh how I travelled to the Essex County Fair.
Essex County has a mighty pretty fair,
All the smarty fiddlers from the South come there.
Elbows flyin' as they rosin up the bow
For the First Prize Contest in the Georgia Fiddlers' Show.
Old Dan Wheeling, with his whiskers in his ears,
King-pin fiddler for nearly twenty years.
Big Tom Sergeant, with his blue wall-eye,
An' Little Jimmy Weezer that can make a fiddle cry.
All sittin' roun', spittin' high an' struttin' proud,
(Listen, little whippoorwill, yuh better bug yore eyes!)
Tun-a-tun-a-tunin' while the jedges told the crowd
Them that got the mostest claps'd win the bestest prize.
Everybody waitin' for the first tweedle-dee,
When in comes a-stumblin' -- hill-billy me!
Bowed right pretty to the jedges an' the rest,
Took a silver dollar from a hole inside my vest,
Plunked it on the table an' said, "There's my callin' card!
An' anyone that licks me -- well, he's got to fiddle hard!"
Old Dan Wheeling, he was laughin' fit to holler,
Little Jimmy Weezer said, "There's one dead dollar!"
Big Tom Sergeant had a yaller-toothy grin,
But I tucked my little whippoorwill spang underneath my chin,
An' petted it an' tuned it till the jedges said, "Begin!"
Big Tom Sargent was the first in line;
He could fiddle all the bugs off a sweet-potato vine.
He could fiddle down a possum from a mile-high tree,
He could fiddle up a whale from the bottom of the sea.
Yuh could hear hands spankin' till they spanked each other raw,
When he finished variations on "Turkey in the Straw."
Little Jimmy Weezer was the next to play;
He could fiddle all night, he could fiddle all day.
He could fiddle chills, he could fiddle fever,
He could make a fiddle rustle like a lowland river.
He could make a fiddle croon like a lovin' woman.
An' they clapped like thunder when he'd finished strummin'.
Then came the ruck of the bob-tailed fiddlers,
The let's-go-easies, the fair-to-middlers.
They got their claps an' they lost their bicker,
An' they all settled back for some more corn-licker.
An' the crowd was tired of their no-count squealing,
When out in the center steps Old Dan Wheeling.
He fiddled high and he fiddled low,
(Listen, little whippoorwill, yuh got to spread yore wings!)
He fiddled and fiddled with a cherrywood bow,
(Old Dan Wheeling's got bee-honey in his strings).
He fiddled a wind by the lonesome moon,
He fiddled a most almighty tune.
He started fiddling like a ghost.
He ended fiddling like a host.
He fiddled north an' he fiddled south,
He fiddled the heart right out of yore mouth.
He fiddled here an' he fiddled there.
He fiddled salvation everywhere.
When he was finished, the crowd cut loose,
(Whippoorwill, they's rain on yore breast.)
An' I sat there wonderin' "What's the use?"
(Whippoorwill, fly home to yore nest.)
But I stood up pert an' I took my bow,
An' my fiddle went to my shoulder, so.
An' -- they wasn't no crowd to get me fazed --
But I was alone where I was raised.
Up in the mountains, so still it makes yuh skeered.
Where God lies sleepin' in his big white beard.
An' I heard the sound of the squirrel in the pine,
An' I heard the earth a-breathin' thu' the long night-time.
They've fiddled the rose, and they've fiddled the thorn,
But they haven't fiddled the mountain-corn.
They've fiddled sinful an' fiddled moral,
But they haven't fiddled the breshwood-laurel.
They've fiddled loud, and they've fiddled still,
But they haven't fiddled the whippoorwill.
I started off with a dump-diddle-dump,
(Oh, hell's broke loose in Georgia!)
Skunk-cabbage growin' by the bee-gum stump.
(Whippoorwill, yo're singin' now!)
My mother was a whippoorwill pert,
My father, he was lazy,
But I'm hell broke loose in a new store shirt
To fiddle all Georgia crazy.
Swing yore partners -- up an' down the middle!
Sashay now -- oh, listen to that fiddle!
Flapjacks flippin' on a red-hot griddle,
An' hell's broke loose,
Hell's broke loose,
Fire on the mountains -- snakes in the grass.
Satan's here a-bilin' -- oh, Lordy, let him pass!
Go down Moses, set my people free;
Pop goes the weasel thu' the old Red Sea!
Jonah sittin' on a hickory-bough,
Up jumps a whale -- an' where's yore prophet now?
Rabbit in the pea-patch, possum in the pot,
Try an' stop my fiddle, now my fiddle's gettin' hot!
Whippoorwill, singin' thu' the mountain hush,
Whippoorwill, shoutin' from the burnin' bush,
Whippoorwill, cryin' in the stable-door,
Sing tonight as yuh never sang before!
Hell's broke loose like a stompin' mountain-shoat,
Sing till yuh bust the gold in yore throat!
Hell's broke loose for forty miles aroun'
Bound to stop yore music if yuh don['t sing it down.
Sing on the mountains, little whippoorwill,
Sing to the valleys, an' slap 'em with a hill,
For I'm struttin' high as an eagle's quill,
An' hell's broke loose,
Hell's broke loose,
Hell's broke loose in Georgia!
They wasn't a sound when I stopped bowin',
(Whippoorwill, yuh can sing no more.)
But, somewhere or other, the dawn was growin',
(Oh, mountain whippoorwill!)
An' I thought, "I've fiddled all night an' lost,
Yo're a good hill-billy, but yuh've been bossed."
So I went to congratulate old man Dan,
-- But he put his fiddle into my han' --
An' then the noise of the crowd began!



I dedicate this poem to all those who serve or who have served to keep our country and the countries of others free. Have a wonderful weekend. (First photo was borrowed to enhance the story)

Lil' Ol' Palmetto Bug

When I was in the fourth grade we moved to Hawaii. The day we arrived my parents immediately looked for a house to rent. After looking all day long, they rented a house on the windward side of Oahu. I remember the house had a steep hip roof and a nice front porch. By that time it was late in the evening, so we quickly had something to eat. We carried in cots to sleep on and a change of clothes, and then it was time to turn in. We were all tired after a very long day. Gentle breezes lulled me to sleep and I'm certain I dreamt of playing on the beach and swimming in warm water.


In the middle of the night we all awoke to the most blood curdling screams we'd ever heard. I knew instantly it was my mother; I envisioned intruders of the most monstrous and villainous type. The screaming was intense and we all huddled in our beds thinking the worst was yet to come. The screaming continued and I could hear my dad trying to calm my mother to no avail.


My mother kept saying "Look at them, just look at them! They're every where; there are hundreds of them; we have to leave". My mother said she was not staying in that house another night. Finally my father agreed to stay up with her the rest of the night with the lights on and they'd get their money back in the morning. After a few more screams, we heard my father explaining to my mother the roaches must have come down from the attic after the lights had gone out. In the morning my mother prevailed and we got our money back and moved somewhere else.


Since moving to Florida I've noticed folks here have a way of making something really gross sound so genteel. For instance, calling a roach, a palmetto bug. I can just hear someone saying, "It's just a lil' ol' palmetto bug". In my mind a palmetto bug is a roach and the worst thing in the world. To this day I can't stand roaches and I scream at the sight of them. I've tried to conquer my fear but it's deep seated from that learned response so long ago.


This is the closest I've ever gotten to a cockroach. Thank goodness he's on the outside screen of our house, otherwise you'd hear my screams from where you are right now. I guess I'm better than I used to be because I actually took this photo. However, he's on the outside; if he was inside, it would be a different story. Perhaps if they are on the outside they are palmetto bugs and on the inside they are roaches.


From what I can surmise from diagrams, this is an oriental cockroach about 2 inches in length. He stayed on that window screen all day long tormenting me with his presence. Apparently a cockroach can squeeze through a crack the thickness of a dime; I hope he doesn't sneak in our house in the middle of the night. Up next something more pleasant; anything has to be more pleasant than a roach or a lil' ol' palmetto bug. (All photos except the last two were borrowed to enhance this story).

Piquant Plantains

Ok here's the desert I made after Saturday's trip out to eat. Don't reject eating a plantain, which is a variety of banana, till you try this easy recipe I made up the other day which I'm calling Piquant Plantains. Plantains have a unique flavor and are often a side dish to a main meal, but I consider this recipe a desert.


Take one well ripe plantain and slice it up in alternating diagonals, so you don't just have round slices, but more oblong or rectangular pieces. Put a little butter in a sauce pan and melt on medium heat, toss in the sliced plantain, sprinkle some ground coriander, anise seed, and a few drops of flavorful hot sauce. I used this Island Grove Jamaican Hot Sauce, which isn't overly hot but more importantly has some good flavor. Stir gently with a flexible spatula so as not to break down the slices of plantain. When the plantains are warmed through, serve immediately.


I borrowed the banana flower above from wikipedia, isn't the flower unique? The piquant plantains were really good; the hot sauce contrasts nicely with the sweet flavor of the ripe plantains. Thanks for visiting. More studio news coming up so please stop in again real soon.

Pretty In Pastel

Doesn't this wall pocket remind you of a waffle ice cream cone? Gary thought so and I have to agree. I'm wondering about leather or a ribbon strung through the holes, maybe some wire, that might be the ticket. I'm pushing myself out of my comfort zone using these pretty in pastel colors, still they feel good to me, happy feeling.


This is a slipped group with satin clear glaze I'm working on. The slip colors stayed true which I was happy about. I've painted the wood background for them three times. I think I have it this time with a bit of silver and amber to make the wood appear rustic and worn. I guess I just couldn't paint the wood white or cream, I had to darken the arrangement with black. Interesting; I may have to see what they would look like with a lighter background.


Here are a few more of the pastel flowers I'm letting settle in my mind a bit, thinking about lusters and planning some mixed media arrangements. More about that later.







Stay tuned for that desert recipe I promised, a childhood story and more, thanks for reading and for all your comments and encouragement.

Margarita Grill

We celebrated getting my new used car by going to the Margarita Grill in Homosassa Saturday afternoon. The restaurant is right on Halls River which leads to King's Bay. Boats can dock up outside and come in for drinks or a meal. We chose to sit on the patio to see all the action on the water. The place was packed with boaters, bikers, tourists, locals and who knows who else.

UPDATE: The Margarita Grill burned down later this year and there are no plans to rebuild.

That margarita Gary has is the small one. They have a medium one and a large one. I wish I had gotten a photo of the other sizes; you wouldn't believe how big the big one is. Gary never smiles big; and he said he never has. I'm going to look through his childhood photos to see if that's true.


Gary and I both had the char grilled octopus. Hope this shot of the tentacles doesn't gross you out too much, but it was so tender and delicious in a lemon sauce. I don't know much about my Greek or Native American heritage, but somehow octopus seemed a fitting meal. Gary ordered a salad and garlic smashed taters, as he calls them, as sides. His salad had a avocado colored dressing which was real tasty. I had coleslaw (not runny) and sweet potato fries. Normally I never get fried anything, but I do love sweet potato fries occasionally if I go to a restaurant.


I took home the place mat from the grill. Now that may seem like a hokey touristy thing to do, but there was a method to my madness. There was a list of eleven best beaches in Florida on the place mat. Gary and I want to try to get to them all some way or another. We didn't get desert as we were too full, but later that evening I made some desert for us, the recipe will be coming up soon.


Here's my new car, a 2003 2wd Ford Escape, a compact SUV, which supposedly it gets 20 mpg in the city and 25 on the highway, we shall see. I have never driven a front wheel drive car in my life till now. It's a 3.0 liter, but has 201 hp, quite a bit for the size of car. So Gary said I have to be careful not flip it over. It's a whole new way of driving for me that's for sure. In my youth I used to have a lead foot, but any more I try like heck to save as much fuel as I can.

I was glad to purchase an American made car, although the Hyundai Santa Fe was a contender. Prices are up for used cars with better fuel economy. The price for this Escape was more reasonable than any used Hyundai we could find. Also the seats were more comfortable in the Escape for me. An SUV was better for both of us due to bad backs and not having to lift groceries out of the back seat or low trunks of a car. Otherwise we might have gotten a Toyota Camry. Gary said this Escape was built in Missouri. He knows so much about cars. He's outside washing my car now; he actually likes hand washing and waxing cars. I'm so lucky.

More about fuel economy, flex fuel, and money savings tips in the future. Also coming up pastel flowers, a childhood story, and more, so stay tuned. Oh, and that desert recipe too.

Floral Rapture

Here's some floral rapture for you this evening.









If you're still around to read next week, pastel colors are coming up next. If not, before you leave, feel free to send any and all donations to the address listed under my contact page.


Floral Rapture by Linda Starr is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at bluestarrgallery.blogspot.com.

Junkyard Blues

Looking over the fence we knew we wouldn't be disappointed. We knew visiting here would not be the junkyard blues. I think the junkyard blues would be if you had to get rid of all the junk there. We wondered if the missile near the front gate was real and what the story behind it was. Did I mention we got there the other day just after they closed. We vowed to go back the very next day and that's just what we did.


We were in heaven walking up and down the aisles looking at all the junk discarded by humanity. I know if we happened to be looking for a certain part or an obsolete item we would surely find it here. When we got inside we forgot all about the missile and just walked around, almost in a stupor, looking at all the wonderful junk to be had so conveniently.


There were motorcycles, bicycles, sinks, car parts, truck parts, every kind of hardware you might be searching for. There was even a junkyard dog but I was so busy oohing and aahing at all the junk I forgot to take his photo. At first I was afraid to pet him thinking he might be vicious, but he was a real charmer. I'll get a photo of him next time I go; I'm sure I'll be going back.


It doesn't look like it, but there was actually an order to all the junk. I found out by asking for some flat rusty steel and was pointed in the direction of the rows and rows of rusty stock. Of course Gary told the owner I was an eccentric artist and that's why I wanted the rusty metal. The owner said he doubted I was eccentric at all, compared to the other artists who frequent there. Ha. I found myself wondering about those other artists and wanting to meet them.


Pictured below is the stash I got at the junkyard. I'm hoping to use some of this metal with my ceramic flowers, juxtaposing the smooth glazed surface with the rough rusty metal. I am wondering if the spar urethane I purchased will protect the rusty metal from flaking off. I know my friend Cindy in Alaska, metal sculptor extraordinaire, would know how to work with rusty metal, and I know she would be in heaven walking through this junkyard.


Did I mention this junkyard is in Floral City? The owner said the junkyard has been there for forty years. I thought it was such a coincidence to find the most wonderful junkyard in Floral City since I'm making flowers now. The city was named because of the abundance of wild flowers which grow there. If you have any advice working with rusty metal, please let me know. Stay tuned for more about Floral City and more flowers coming up real soon.