Geri deGruy's blog of art, musings, and inspiration

Winter is minimalist art.

With many of the frills and embellishments gone, I can see structure. Bones. Basics. An original idea.

There are fewer distractions.

Shapes and forms reveal themselves, reminding me of Henry Moore sculptures. 

I love grasses in every season, but there is something simple and saucy about the way they continue to stand and wave in the winter - a wispy, light-as-air vertical presence.

No fanfare.

I can't help myself - I take zillions of pictures of grasses all year long.  

The skeletons. Naked. Bony. Without artifice. Beautiful.

They may give the appearance of death but under-ground the juicy stuff is happening... like the unconscious, always mulling, lively.  Doing the inside work.

Right now, I see the outside, the unique way the world has shaped them. An art form.