Valerie Fowler, Artist | Sometimes It Happens at Night: drawing

Mexican feather grass with a wedge of poppies and a purple flowered plant which I forgot the name of...in the front yard.

The Drought Killed my Rosemary, unfinished.

We've been having an exceptional spring in Austin--gentle breezes, adequate rain, everything is in bloom and the evenings have been sweetly cool. But about now it has begun to heat up. Daily I have been so grateful for this tender bliss of a spring that I am almost afraid to say so out loud, because while I have been enjoying this spring, I have also been feeling a nagging pang of respectful fear. Last summer was horrible. Record heat. Record drought. Many old Texas trees died. Gardening--always a humbling experience during Texas summers; always a trial in which one has to accept a certain amount of death--was more humbling than ever. In my garden almost all the vegetables died before their time. But only the death of my Rosemary shocked me. In my experience, Rosemary is kinda indestructible. And this was an old established plant. When I pulled its skeleton out of the ground I saw how lovely the leafless shape was, so I drew it. Above is the first version...ink on clayboard, etched. A few weeks later I looked at the image and knew it really didn't tell the story of my fear or of the heat. I went back in. Results below, Ink on clayboard, etched some more, and with added watercolor.

The Drought Killed My Rosemary, 12x16", complete.

Last week I wrote about--I'll call it My Problem in Yellow (below) and I have been working on it all week, absent mindedly...hoping to create something good from something that made me very uncomfortable, a messy watercolor. I'm sticking with it.