Where's Waldo?

Shortly after we'd settled into work this morning, my coworker Yoshi realized he needed to start working on painting a fly. When I asked what it was for, he said he'd offered to do something for the museum to use on invitation cards for a planned holiday gathering. After a bit of conversation about possible backgrounds and such, I suggested an idea we'd batted around a recent staff meeting: that we get the same red fly I photographed against some leaves in October and take new photos with it, this time aiming for a winter/holiday feel.

Yoshi was very much on board with this plan.

Since it's only mid-November, we lacked the most obvious backdrop for this sort of shot—namely, snow. However, we did have access to an excellent alternative setting, so Yoshi grabbed the fly, which he has since dubbed Waldo, and we headed outside to figure out which of the two nearby pine trees was the most photogenic.

All told, I took about 100 photos as we experimented with how to best position the fly and searched for spots on the trees that were open enough to let me get in close but dense enough to obscure undesirable elements, like the nearby buildings and the brown, dead grass on the ground; as it was I had to crop the picture I liked best so the dumpster behind our office was no longer visible in the frame. But I think the result was definitely worth the effort, as we ended up with an image that's simple, straightforward, and evocative of the holiday season:

And now for something completely different

That's right—today's post does not involve birds of any sort. Instead, I thought I'd share some photos I took at the office for one of my coworkers. At our boss' request, he painted some vignettes on a few items that were purchased at an antique show a while back, as having original artwork on them elevates the pieces (which are by no means either rare or extremely old) from nice to truly special. Even though he's appeared in photos I've posted on this blog in the past, the painter asked me not to mention his name. So that's why I'm being all vague about it.

On a completely unrelated note, did I ever mention that I only have one male coworker?

Anyway, on with the good stuff. He painted these first vignettes on the three blank sides of an old grain bucket (the fourth side already featured a company logo, which he left as it was):







These next two were painted on a child-sized wooden chair. First, the image on the seat:



And a fly he painted on the rung that spans across the top of the chair:



Finally, a library/reading chair now sports these last three vignettes. First, the image that's on the front of the chair's back (ie the side you see before you sit down):



A fly he put on the narrow rung just under the chair's back:



And finally, the image that's on the back of the back, as it were:



By the way, he knocked all of these off over the course of the last week to ten days. Amazing, huh?

Fly leaf

Just a single photo today, one I took in the line of duty, so to speak. I was asked to put together a postcard to send out to some of our membership, and encouraged to get creative when it came to choosing the postcard's main image. I toyed around with a few different ideas, but not coming up with anything that really grabbed me.

Then yesterday afternoon I was looking at the photos I'd taken of the pond, and asked Yoshi if he thought one of them might work. It didn't seem like a bad idea per se, but the thing that made us both hesitate was the lack of anything museum-specific in any of the shots—when someone found it in their mailbox, they'd just see yet another piece of mail with foliage on it, not an uncommon occurrence in our area this time of year. As we talked and thought about it, I suddenly had an idea—do the same sort of photo as what I'd taken earlier, but with the addition of a fly on top of one of the leaves.

Since the photos we attempted last night didn't turn out all that great (it was late in the day, very overcast, and I had the white balance on my camera set for indoor photos), I went back out first thing this morning and tried again. This time the results were much better. After narrowing it down to a few finalists, this is the shot we ended up using—I think it came out pretty nicely, if I do say so myself:

Rainy Monday

It was a pretty dreary day here, the kind where you want to spend the day curled up in a blanket on your couch with something warm to drink. I'm not complaining, because we desperately need the rain, but it also resulted in me not doing a whole lot in the way of photography. So, I just have a pair of images to post today.

I took this one at work late in the day; Yoshi was moving some flies from their original cases into archival boxes, and I was incredibly impressed by this particular exampl:



The second photo is simply a shot of a Junco and a Cardinal sitting on the feeders at Mom and Dad's; because of how dark it had gotten outside, it's actually the only bird photo I took while I was there that came out more or less in focus:



Unfortunately, the pictures I took of Kaylee were also too blurry to be worth sharing, but not blurry enough to be interesting in other ways. I'll try to make up for it the next time I stop by the house for a visit.

Where the sidewalk ends

Today some third graders from a local school came by to bring a little art into our lives. They'd recently completed a mural focused on river life, and agreed to come by and recreate parts of it on the sidewalk in the Orvis parking lot—and, with any luck, help entice folks to come by the museum.

Shaana consulted a reference guide before she got started:



My boss Cathi helping with the paint prep:



Love the tip of Wil's tongue sticking out as he concentrates on his work:



Chloe and Emily collaborated on their drawing:



Young Wil meant business, using his hand to blend the chalk he was working with:



Elisabeth also employed the hand-blending technique:



Maria checks her source material before proceeding with her work:



Jordan working on her leaping fish:



Sarah working on her half of her collaboration with Jordan:



Of course, it's impossible to create great art without getting a little messy:



Balance is also a key element of any artistic endeavor:



Yoshi giving Emily a hand:



Kristin putting the finishing touches on her work:



And the results:

More from the museum

Once again I spent the better part of the day taking photos at work—which, again, worked out well for me as it was also raining steadily all day long. To start with, a few more items once belonging to Jack Gartside.

Gartside's rods:



His hat, chest pack, and one of the rods:



Now, a special treat. These reels, which we'll be auctioning off at an upcoming dinner celebrating Casting for Recovery, are truly one-of-a-kind items. They were built by Stan Bogdan, whose reels normally go for anywhere from $1,300 on up to begin with. The side plates were specially anodized to match the pink used to symbolize breast cancer awareness in honor of CfR's work, making them the only two Bogdan reels in existence to feature this color (or any color other than silver or black, for that matter). And we had them engraved to commemorate the event. So, if it's not too much of a contradiction in terms, I think it's safe to say you're looking at a modern-day piece of fly-fishing history:

Flights of fancy

Today at work I spent most of my afternoon photographing items in our collection belonging to the late Jack Gartside, including several flies not only tied by Gartside but invented by him as well. He was an creative and innovative tyer, and the more I hear about him from his friends and peers the more I wish I'd had the chance to meet him.

Anyway, these are just a few of the patterns he came up with over the years. He tied them in a wide variety of color combinations and sizes; I picked these particular flies solely based on how well I thought they'd photograph against the backdrop I was using:

The Chicken Poop (yes, really):



The Gartside Bug:



The Slider:



A Secret Minnow, ie one tied using his secret material in the wing:



And perhaps his best-known creation, the Gurgler:

Inching toward spring

Today was one of those days when Mother Nature reminded us that while the calendar may indicate it's spring we still, in fact, live in Vermont: we had clear blue skies and temperatures cool enough that I could see my breath when I went outside at 12:30 in the afternoon.

At the museum we hosted an event aimed toward getting people geared up for fishing season: visitors could tie clown flies, made a practice rod for casting, practice their fishing knots, or have the chance to see what it feels like to reel in a fish. Here, Yoshi tests one of the pseudo-fish out:



We also had a pair of fly tyers there demonstrating their craft. One of the gentlemen, whose name I of course don't recall, brought samples of some of his more unusual creations to show kids that your fly tying is only limited by your imagination:





After work I went up to my folks' house so we could all have dinner together. Before that, though, Mom took me over to Equinox Pond to show me something she thought I'd like to photograph. On our way over, I noticed a fairly large dead tree caught up in the branches of a living one:



What Mom had spotted earlier in the day while she and Dad were out walking Kaylee was a bunch of ice formations along where run-off water was pouring out of a culvert and down through the woods. I worked my way along both sides of the stream as I took these, and Kaylee was helpful enough to wade through the stream and then shake herself off all over my back about a foot from where I crouched on the bank—clearly she wanted me to enjoy the full sensory experience:















As we walked back home Mom also spotted this bit of fungus, which stood out vividly against the bark:



Just after we cleared the woods Kaylee spotted her good friend Robbie. Naturally, playtime ensued:





But since she'd already been on three walks and played ball earlier in the day, after she'd gotten her cheese and we'd had our drinks Kaylee made herself comfy and decided she'd had enough of the whole movement thing—at least for the time being:



I don't know about anyone else, but to me that's the look of a dog thinking, "Nothing short of an entire side of beef would entice me to move from this spot—and even then I'd have to give it some serious consideration."