The Conversation and Foxfire Oak

My two latest pieces were inspired by encounters with animals in places that are special to me. The pair of crows featured in The Conversation are regulars on our back fence. The flaming red moon, Mars and smoke (why the moon is that color) are also rooted in reality. Smoke was billowing from the Valley Fire to the southeast of us near Alpine, California. It isn’t intended to be a depressing piece, but to encourage thought about climate change and where we choose to build long-term dwellings and businesses. As with all art, it’s also o.k. in my opinion to simply enjoy the imagery and decide what, if anything, it means to you.

Foxfire Oak celebrates both another recent Catalina Island fox sighting (I adore them) and a shapely, old island scrub oak at Wrigley Botanical Garden in Avalon, California. I combined personal experience and folklore in this mixed media painting that’s primarily watercolor with a bit of soft pastel added toward its completion to punch up the cold flames in the tree hollows and the fox’s eyes. Despite being quite different in both the techniques used and the outcome, it’s a bit of an homage to my favorite piece of visual art, New Year's Eve Foxfires at the Changing Tree, made by Utagawa Hiroshige. I was fortunate enough to see an original woodblock print of it at The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

If you’re interested in owning either of these originals, please send me a message here. Prints may be purchased through Pixels.com by clicking on the images of the paintings below.

Thanks for supporting living artists.

—Robin Street-Morris

Robin Street-Morris. The Conversation. 2020. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb cold press paper. 14" x 20" (36 x 51cm).

Robin Street-Morris. Foxfire Oak. 2020. Transparent watercolor and soft pastel on 140lb hot press paper. 13" x 19" (33 x 48cm).

Climate fires

It’d be pretty easy to get overly emotional here about the fires that are consuming places I’ve seen and love and more I’ve wanted to visit but hadn’t gotten to yet before they burned. Being who I am, for better or for worse, my sadness and tears quickly turned to fury. It’s frustrating to read chaparral, a unique and vanishing habitat, being referred to simply as "fuel.”  There's nothing like the scent of it and coastal sage scrub.  In one inhale after a heavy fog or rain it can make me feel as though things are going to be alright even though the writing on the wall is clear that this is not the case.  Anthropogenic (man-made) climate change has sped up the frequency of catastrophic wind-blown fires which are most often begun by human carelessness, including not putting money into the most basic of infrastructure in order to appease shareholders.  Invasive grasses and other weeds will continue to take the places of our native plants adapted to fire before they can regrow leading to more frequent fires—again, most often started by us.  Building large developments in San Diego's East County and other inland areas of California is a recipe for more disasters.

If you’d like to help (having a better understanding of this place regardless of where you live does), please take a moment to learn more about our chaparral at the California Chaparral Institute's website .

Cleveland National Forest buckwheat.

Buzzard's Roost Lookout in Big Sur.

Cleveland National Forest looking toward Anza-Borrego Desert State Park.

San Bernardino National Forest manzanitas.

Los Peñasquitos Canyon Preserve.

Old growth chaparral featuring magnificent Nuttall's scrub oak (Quercus dumosa) in Del Mar Mesa Preserve.

My latest mixed media painting is titled “Fire in the Wind.” It was completed before the beginning of the Valley Fire in San Diego’s East County. No crystal ball was required.

Epiphyllum oxypetalum

This remarkable cactus’s blossoms are enormous, heavily fragrant and only open for one night each. If I want to photograph it I need to be willing to stay up late because they fade by dawn. I appreciated it for awhile the first time it bloomed this summer and headed to bed a bit sad because I was too weary to give it the attention it deserved. I committed to capturing some photos of its second flush because that may be it for the year. I placed my trail camera with night vision in front of both bloomings hoping to catch a pollinator, but no luck with that so far, “just” a bobcat and some raccoons.

If you’re interested in growing this plant yourself, here’re some links to information on how to successfully cultivate it here and here.

Stapelia gigantea

The beauty of the Zulu giant’s enormous blooms overshadows the fetid odor they produce. They mimic the smell of carrion to attract fly pollinators which are ubiquitously distributed even in the harsh southern African deserts this species is native to. As you will see in this brief photo essay, a green bottle fly carefully deposited larvae around the cilia (hairs) of the blossom toward the end of her visit to it. The plant offered her progeny no nutrition like rotting meat or feces would have, so they were destined to starve. Argentine ant predators began carrying off the larvae to their nest even before she’d finished giving birth.

This plant has been growing well for years in a narrow garden near our front door where it’s somewhat protected from San Diego’s winter rains in order to keep it from rotting. Salvia ‘Royal Bumble’ acts as its nurse plant, both providing it with a bit of shade and giving the hummingbirds yet another food source to fight over.

Like Stapelia gigantea, Huernia zebrina has been attracting flies much to the delight of the resident lizards. You can see the larvae if you look closely below. It’s sometimes called lifesaver plant or lifesaver cactus. These species aren’t cacti, but rather members of the milkweed subfamily Asclepiadaceae.

Incoming Fog and Comet NEOWISE

…is my latest mixed media painting inspired by our recent visitor that has captivated me and many others for weeks. I was up night after night trying to catch the comet over Black Mountain from our yard, but the fog repeatedly sent me back to bed disappointed. Finally, I saw at around 3AM that it was clear and headed out back to enjoy and photograph the peaceful view. Around 5AM fog began to curl around the base of the mountain. A few minutes later I could barely make out anything past our fence.

Robin Street-Morris. Incoming Fog with Comet NEOWISE [C/2020 F3 (NEOWISE)]. 2020. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb hot press paper. 14" x 19" (36 x 48cm).

(Please click on the image if you’re interested in purchasing a print.)

Unrelated, here’s another bloomer I’ve been home to enjoy this month because of the pandemic rather than traveling. Like the Epiphyllum hookeri I mentioned recently, each one of these giant, night-fragrant blossoms opens after dark and closes by dawn. I know this plant as Cereus peruvianus ‘Monstrosus’. This cutting was gifted to me several years ago when I met up with some patrons in California who discovered my art online when I lived in Detroit. Plant presents are hard to top in my book.

Epiphyllum hookeri

A year ago today I was in Michigan and had just finished squishing my way through a gorgeous bog that’s guarded by an exceptionally powerful horde of mosquitoes. I was looking for a rare orchid before heading to Bell’s Eccentric Cafe to meet up with some friends who were kind enough to make the drive over from our hometown. This is the first year of my life I won’t be back in the summer. It’s admittedly strange to not be seeing everyone and swimming along favorite Lake Michigan beaches. No firefly watching also hurts. The silver lining is not missing out on shows from plants like this one in our moon garden and getting to go snorkeling here while the water is warm(ish). They have this way of blooming while we’re away and these flowers only last one night. Epiphyllum hookeri is a fragrant species of orchid cactus native to northern central Mexico to Central America, Trinidad and northern Venezuela. Its magnificent blooms are about 9” across.

Comic-Con Art Show 2020 and Comet C/2020 F3 (NEOWISE)

The Comic-Con Art Show began online today via Tumblr and you can check it out here. Typically this is the day we head downtown to hang my work after I’ve framed it myself with archival materials. That was understandably not in the cards this year to avoid potentially spreading the plague. The silver lining is that the powers that be have made it possible for us to come together this week to enjoy each other’s work, attend panels and visit booths virtually. This is a great year to enjoy all there is to online in respect to said event. As per usual, my mantra is “support living artists” and that always includes my colleagues. Supporting artists can come in the form of purchasing a piece or print, or simply sharing and showing general appreciation of what we do.

My latest piece was inspired by seeing comet C/2020 F3 (NEOWISE) in the Laguna Mountains an hour east of here. Our coastal fog had cloaked it for days and I realized we had to head eastward in order to make sure we saw it. It’s the closest it’s going to be to our planet today until roughly another 6,800 years.

Robin Street-Morris. Passage XI (Comet with Venus). 2020. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb cold press paper. 15" x 20" (38 x 51cm).

Black Widow Moon

We have more than a few Western black widow spiders living in the yard. Their erratically woven webs betray their presence. Sometimes I catch glimpses of them like I did late yesterday afternoon, a female and a male. He was brown and roughly half her size. As is the case with most wild animals, they wished to be left alone and scuttled back into their homes when I got too close for their comfort. In addition to having intrinsic value, they prey on insects like cockroaches, mosquitoes and flies.

The original painting is available. Prints may be purchased by clicking on the image.

Happy Year-round Halloween…

—Robin Street-Morris

Robin Street-Morris. Black Widow Moon. 2020. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 140lb hot press paper. 12" x 18" (30 x 46cm).

A plumeria for thorned people

My Madagascar palm (Pachypodium lamerei) is blooming for the first time. It’s weathered a couple of frosts and a sleet storm this winter that hit coastal San Diego. It’s not a real palm, but rather a stem succulent that photosynthesizes largely through its thorny trunk.

Musing over birds

Occasionally, I make paintings in response to memorable encounters I’ve had with particular birds while spending time in nature. My goal is to capture the essence of these moments in my art rather than document them.

Some of these pieces are available; please contact me if you’re interested. Prints of any of them may be purchased after clicking on an image. Thanks for supporting living artists.

—Robin Street-Morris

Barred Owl Moon. Transparent watercolor on 300lb cold press paper. 13" x 21" (33 x 53cm).

Qui Vive. Transparent watercolor and soft pastel on incised 300lb cold press paper. 9" x 14" (23 x 36cm).

Torrey Pine Remains with Raven. Transparent watercolor on 300lb cold press paper. 12" x 17" (31 x 43cm).

Little Owl. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb incised hot press paper. 9" x 14" (23 x 36cm).

Reclamation (Santa Cruz Island Ravens). Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb hot press paper. 13" x 19" (33 x 48cm).

Crows Above Basilica. Transparent watercolor and soft pastel on 300lb hot press paper. 15" x 20" (38.10 x 50.80cm).

Oration. Transparent watercolor and soft pastel on 140lb cold press paper. 10" x 15" (25 x 38cm).

Los Peñasquitos Canyon VIII (the Swallows Return). Transparent watercolor and soft pastel on 300lb cold press paper. 13" x 19" (33 x 48cm).

Raven Pair with Diurnal Moon. 2015. Transparent watercolor and soft pastel on 300lb cold press paper. 13" x 19" (33 x 48cm).

Ocean of Glass with Seabirds. Transparent watercolor and soft pastel on 300lb hot press paper. 13" x 20" (33 x 51cm).

Raven with Torrey Pine Branch and Cold Moon. Transparent watercolor on 300lb cold press paper. 14" x 19" (36 x 48cm).

Unbounded (Crow Over Tijuana Estuary). Transparent watercolor with metallic gouache and soft pastel on 300lb cold press paper. 12" x 19" (30 x 48cm).

Canyon Denizen II (Great Horned Owl with Eucalyptus Branch). Transparent watercolor and soft pastel with iridescent medium on 300lb cold press paper. 12" x 18" (30 x 48cm).

Departure (Crows at Dawn). Transparent watercolor and soft pastel on 140lb cold press paper. 13" x 19" (33 x 48cm).

Nesting Great Horned Owl. Transparent watercolor on 300lb cold press paper. 12" x 21" (30 x 53cm).

Sentinel (Great Horned Owl in Cottonwood Tree). Transparent watercolor on 300lb cold press paper. 16" x 21" (41 x 53cm).

Pueo Encounter (at Haleakalā National Park). Transparent watercolor and soft pastel on 300lb hot press paper. 14" x 20" (36 x 51cm).

Three Birds and Evening Star. Transparent watercolor and soft pastel on 300lb hot press paper. 14" x 19" (36 x 48cm).

Hunting Moon I (Great Horned Owl). Transparent watercolor and soft pastel on 140lb hot press paper. 8" x 13" (20 x 33cm)

Hunting Moon II. Transparent watercolor and soft pastel on 140lb hot press paper. 9" x 13" (23 x 33cm)

Hunting Moon III (Great Horned Owl). Transparent watercolor and soft pastel on 300lb cold press paper. 9" x 14" (23 x 36cm).

Hunting Moon V (Great Horned Owl). Transparent watercolor on 300lb cold press paper. 13.5" x 20" (34 x 51cm).

Walking Among Barn Owls. Transparent watercolor and soft pastel on 300lb cold press paper. 14" x 20" (36 x 48cm).

Canyon Sunrise

My latest mixed media painting is both energetic and apocalyptic in feel.

Canyon Sunrise. 2020. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb cold press paper. 13" x 19" (33 x 48cm).

Plastics Free California initiative

Please join me in helping this initiative make it to the ballot if you reside and vote in California: https://plasticsfreeca.org/#features4

These photos were taken at a beach in La Jolla. The California sea lions, harbor seals, fishes, sea birds, sea turtles and other wildlife who call this home shouldn’t have to live with our garbage.

Gossamer lair

Fog and rain reveal the beautiful homes of funnel spiders in shrubs and ground covers. Agelenidae are pretty harmless unless you happen to be an insect or another spider that wanders into their lairs. I enjoy seeing our resident spiders and appreciate the balance they help maintain in the garden.

Winding down

After spending most of the day pruning and weeding, my body told me it was time to slow down and just enjoy the flowers. The California poppies had closed most of the way. Their spring show has tapered off, but there’s still a nice ring of them flowering around Agave schidigera 'Shira Ito No Ohi'.

Unfurling

The blossoms of sacred datura (Datura wrightii) are fragrant even when they’re beginning to open. This one is growing in our moon garden and came to us as a seedling from Annie’s Annual & Perennials.

Ferocactus townsendianus

After purchasing this beautiful barrel cactus in Tucson at Desert Survivors Native Plant Nursery last year, I remember putting it out on the balcony of our hotel room and watching in delight as broad-billed hummingbirds visited its flame-like flowers.   I'd enjoy setting aside a slow afternoon just to see if my local hummingbirds here in San Diego do the same.  

An old orchid friend

This Dendrobium lindleyi (formerly aggregatum) once hung in a west facing window in downtown Detroit, an east facing one in the Central West End of St. Louis and now lives outdoors in San Diego under a queen palm. This species blooms more prolifically with a winter rest from about Thanksgiving through spring which it doesn’t really get around here because of our winter rains. I do withhold fertilizer until I see new growth on it in the spring, though. It’s pleasantly fragrant.

Rainblow

I’m getting back out on the water this weekend for the nonrefundable day trip I booked before the pandemic hit the U.S.. The original date was understandably punted by the whale watching company in question from northbound gray whale season to blue whale season. Yes, there will be a face covering involved. This shot of a humpback whale exhaling was taken in February somewhere between Dana Point and Catalina Island, California.

Argentine ants strike again

Saddened but not surprised is how I'd describe myself this morning after finding the Anna's hummingbird nest I'd been watching overrun by Argentine ants.  I'd been hoping for the best and mentally preparing myself for the worst as is advisable when observing nature closely.  She was still on her nest yesterday evening with no peeping coming from it.  There was clearly a horror story unfolding near the house sometime between then and getting up to make coffee.  They've been known to drive the parent off of the nest if they discover it in order to attack and feed on the baby birds.  They also farm honeydew-producing sucking insects like scale, mealybugs and aphids that have decimated many of my established native plants.  I'm hoping to save the rest by employing knowledgeable nurseryman Greg Rubin's approach to combating this invasive species; it's linked to in this informative blog post by the California Chaparral Institute.  I also found this article from the University of California Riverside Center for Invasive Species Research helpful in gaining a better understanding what we're up against.