Wednesday, January 02, 2008

spore PRINT



* * *

These two pieces are part of a project I've been contemplating over the past few months. In the name of identifying the mushrooms that I photograph in Assiniboine Forest, I've been collecting samples for spore prints.

I say in the name of, because it's a handy justification, should I be asked what on god's green earth am I doing...but I am more than capable of enjoying the mushrooms without naming them.

So what is it, then? I think...that making spore prints is another way of making images from mushrooms, of letting the mushrooms make images themselves.

But that's just part of it. I also found myself coming home with pockets full of showy bark. And spent willow galls. And seeds in fluted wrappers.

And I was uncommonly happy when I found a set of wooden trays only an inch deep in which to layer all these, well, layers.

So we'll see where this goes. In the meantime, here are a few images that the house drug in.

The feather I found on my front walk. The pine seeds were shed by the cones I mound in a bowl around Christmastime, my only nod to seasonal decorations. The keys I resurrected from a drawer, tucked there after the locks they fit had been lost or broke, because they're such...objects.

5 comments:

Brenda Schmidt said...

Nifty!

Polly said...

Is this what we're having for lunch?

Ariel Gordon said...

Thanks, B...

Since we're heading for lunch at vegan resto Mondragon, P, it's likely we'll get some of this...

Anonymous said...

Ariel, it's good to hear you again! Can I come over for tea? And a walk in your forest? I'll show you my forest (if you drive for three days and stay for some sleep overs) if you'll show me yours (if I drive for three days and collapse on your doorstep - oh, with two kids under seven and a husband in tow!). Wouldn't it be nice?
Jill

Ariel Gordon said...

Hey Gilly - it would be lovely. Better yet, we ditch the various spouses and childrens and wander in the woods solo. Solo together that is...

How goes the poetry? How goes being Gillian Wigmore?

You never told me what Whitehorse was like...