Monochromatic: the transition from fall into winter has brought fog to the mountainsides and lakesides. Only the foreground can be seen.
Fog in the literature of garden design and horticulture–I have always sought clarity in textbooks and popular writing from the fields of garden design and horticulture.
But unfortunately in both fields the more I read the more finely subdivided became the material of those fields–finer and finer until I became lost in a fog.
You may just write me off as another searching for the holy grail but…I have found lessons to be learned from the larger landscape that can inform those who try their hand at horticulture and garden design.
Fog is a monochromatic filter and winter is a gray scale reality. Both lessen the detail and the variety our eyes have to interpret.
So in my garden design, I need only water, healthy soil, light, minerals, deciduous plants and evergreens.
Or is that just the folly of a desktop gardener?
Gray Scale: lessens the detail that our eyes have to interpret.
W. Curt Mulligan, a Los Angeles Landscape Architect, executor and close professional friend of George Moleson, recently met the author at the above pictured Eau Zone pool deck restaurant in Dubai. Credit to Kerzner International Developer, EDSA Consultant and Desert Landscape Contractor.
Over the past year via some excellent beta reader reviews from Goodreads, I have updated my original Beta of Crystal Vision to Beta 02.
The 23 Club featured Erik Chalmers and occurred primarily in the Arabian Peninsula sand desert known as the Empty Quarter.
Crystal Vision is a pilgrimage, beginning near Medina in the Western Region of Saudi Arabia, that ultimately takes George Moleson and his design journals into the landscape heart of the Bernese Alps–Grindelwald, Switzerland.
George Moleson is a professional landscape architect from Los Angeles who had taken a job six years ago planning, designing, building, managing a new town on the Red Sea in Saudi Arabia.
When his best friend on the job commits suicide, George is shocked and is left with only one clue. His options become clear when his own job is terminated and he has nowhere to go. He begins a pilgrimage to the cities and hinterlands of Thailand and Switzerland in a hunt to find the fiancé of his recently deceased friend.
Along the way, George has doors of perception opened in Thailand’s Golden Triangle where he meets Vrndadevi, a permaculture specialist who talks to him about spiritual settling. Then she points him to the Swiss landscape where yodeling and the Bernese Alps encourage George into deeper personal and professional introspection.
These peculiar landscape events gradually refocus his original search to close the loop on his friend’s suicide onto his own professional and personal life uncertainties–a search to answer questions that we all face.
On the surface, this story is about design, plants, gardens and it takes place in exotic locations–a natural for me. But then it turns into something deeper.
Normally designers’ notes and their journals do not interest me–they are the overelaborated microscopic views of narcissists–the stuff of ethereal ephemera–but this one is different.
George’s design journals are like a well structured and well detailed beautiful garden, a series of garden rooms that had unfortunately been neglected, had become overgrown.
Look closely at them, pull out a few weeds, cut back overgrown others–the careful cleaning reveals beautiful plants with the spark of life, with kernels of good health. Inspirational portals of excellence await discovery, enjoyment, exploration.
Amanita muscaria pushing up from the forest floor.
On the northern hemisphere forest floors, this is the season to discover and examine mushrooms and toadstools.
Mushrooms are edible fungal growths taking the form of domed cap on a stalk, while toadstools are similar but traditionally poisonous. This world of the forest floor is a dangerous place for casual and naive human visitors. Beware.
Amanita muscaria from underneath…now where is that dwarf?
With its bright red, white-spotted cap the fly agaric (Amanita muscaria) has delighted people since time immemorial. It is inedible (with a psychoactive asterisk, a risk) and yet considered one of the most attractive and most familiar species of fungi–a subject of many myths and fairy tales–valued also as a good luck charm.
Its white-spotted, red cap covers the head of a dwarf who carries out all sorts of mysterious activities in the forest.
Correct me if I am wrong but anyone who has silently walked through a rich, multi-layered forest knows that there are movements that strangely occur…movements on the edge or just beyond the capacity of our senses. Algernon Blackwood’s short stories examine those areas.
I’ll say no more. But I would appreciate the comments from readers who themselves have experienced, in the forest, that which cannot be explained.
Every year over the past four years, this local school has had these window boxes bursting with geranium lierre, ivy geranium. This village school was built 100 years ago and includes primary and middle school students.
These joyful flowers mark the school as the prideful focal point of the village center–signs of good health, beauty, good maintenance–everything the students and the parents would want out of a school.
Why don’t all schools look this joyful and welcoming?
LandArt2014 asks the artists to find their raw materials in the adjacent forest itself. Then the art goes through the transitional cycles of time and decomposition. Some of the 14 entries had already merged with the forest. Others were still visible. I liked the one above by a team from France.
I like the essential lightness in this word: landscapeyness.
In real life, I find lightness both in landscapes and also in gardens. Among their many aspects, I like them for their landscapeyness.
Landscapes and gardens–this ultimate pair of two syllable words–each carrying an immeasurable gravitas buried within the burls of all human civilizations–each twisting and turning through the world’s cultures and around and through the time lines of human history–twisting and turning, forming and reforming, always in a deep harmony.
Can landscapeyness and deep harmony co-exist? Of course! Look at these images brimming with landscapeyness and deep harmony.
These images are SchnerenSchnit (German). SchnerenSchnit is scissors cut–the art and craft of cutting paper. It has been practiced in Swiss mountain villages before modern media, and continues on in some places still today. I have included these images of ScherenSchnit because they demonstrate the skeins, the threads, the cellulose, that connect and combine landscapeyness and deep harmony into an almost transcendental relationship between people and plants, gardens and landscapes.
