Archive for January, 2011

cgi gardens

Los Ange­les artist Jen­nifer Steinkamp has been cre­at­ing computer-generated botan­i­cal video instal­la­tions for the last decade.


A spec­tac­u­lar new work, Madame Curie, just opened at the down­town gallery of the San Diego Museum of Con­tem­po­rary Art. It fills a 4,500 square foot gallery with swirling computer-generated flow­er­ing shrubs and trees based on a list of plants Madame Curie tended in her gar­den. YouTube doesn’t have any exam­ples of this work yet, but you can see doc­u­men­ta­tion at the artist’s own web­site [ here ].


The new work places the viewer into clouds of branches and flow­ers that swirl against a dark black back­ground. This is a gar­den grow­ing with­out a sun, react­ing to an un-felt wind, out in space or down at some sub-atomic level. It’s all mys­te­ri­ous, exhuber­ant and flat-out beautiful.

Enjoy these short clips of some of her other works. And if you’re in San Diego through our flow­ery late win­ter or spring, stop by the museum for a look at this new piece. Meet­ing the work face-to-face is totally more engross­ing than watch­ing snip­pets on your com­puter. (Madame Cuire will also be on view in Los Ange­les at ACME from Feb­ru­ary 12 — March 12 of this year.) It makes the plant world of Avatar look like bland Etch-a-Sketch draw­ings. And just imag­ine if this work were in 3D!



And here’s a final one that isn’t botan­i­cal, but it’s oh so cool, espe­cially when you get into the space and inter­act with the projections:


January 30 2011 | Categories: artgardening | Tags: | 2 Comments »

bomb-sniffing petunias?

Thanks to She Who Would Not Want To Be Named for send­ing me a link to a really inter­est­ing story in yesterday’s New York Times: Plants have been engi­neered through the dark arts of gene splic­ing to detect TNT at a level of sen­si­tiv­ity one hun­dred times greater than bomb-sniffing dogs.

In the pres­ence of TNT vapors the leaves of the engi­neered Ara­bidop­sis and tobacco plants blushed from green to white as chloro­phyll drained out of the leaves. The process took sev­eral hours, so just imag­ine how slowly an air­port check-in would move. Still, I think I’d rather be scanned by a plant than a radiation-emitting strip-search machine.

The research was pub­lished Wednes­day in PLoS ONE under the catchy title “Pro­gram­ma­ble Lig­and Detec­tion Sys­tem in Plants through a Syn­thetic Sig­nal Trans­duc­tion Path­way.” (Some­body please help sci­en­tists come up with titles that make sense to the rest of us.) The title in the Times is maybe even worse, in an insult­ing way, “Plants that Earn Their Keep.” Do plants have to jus­tify their exis­tence? Why does a plant have to “do some­thing use­ful” in order to earn a place on this earth? Grrrrrr. Arro­gant humans!

Any­way, air­line travel has been at the front of my mind recently as I brace for a trip in a few days to Philadel­phia. Mon­day I was brave enough to add the weather report to my desk­top. Yikes! I’m not sure that I even rec­og­nize the weather icon for last Wednes­day. It’s def­i­nitely one that’s never appeared on any San Diego fore­cast I’ve been around for!

In the gen­eral Philly area both Long­wood Gar­dens and the Mor­ris Arbore­tum have con­ser­va­to­ries. Unfor­tu­nately I’m not likely to have much time to do sight­see­ing, but it’ll be inter­est­ing enough to see what some peo­ple call win­ter. But if there’s any­thing on the “must see” list, let me know.

Let me fin­ish my ram­ble by return­ing briefly to the unpleas­ant topic of air­line ter­ror­ism to say a cou­ple words about these pho­tos that were in the news a year ago that many of you recognize.

[ source ]

These are shots of the alleged “underwear-bomber” Umar Farouk Abdul­mu­tal­lab, prob­a­bly taken dur­ing while he was attend­ing school in Lon­don. I looked quickly at the main subject–really, what can a pho­to­graph tell you about a per­son? Maybe that a seem­ingly normal-looking per­son can attempt to do some awful things? Maybe that this per­son was not so iso­lated as not feel the peer-pressure to buy a hat with a Nike swoosh?

What I focused on next–and some of you gar­den­ers out there have already guessed it–is the amaz­ing back­drop of col­or­ful foliage. What are those plants?, I asked myself. Then my brain wan­dered off into other areas: Did the sus­pect enjoy plants enough to think that this would be a scenic loca­tion for a por­trait (on at least two occa­sions, look­ing at his change in cloth­ing)? Or maybe the pho­tog­ra­pher dragged the resent­ful and unwill­ing sub­ject out into the cold, into these spots with the col­or­ful backgrounds?

[ source ]

I don’t know. The only pos­si­ble answer I can pull out of all this is that the back­drop is the kind of foliage that peo­ple in areas of the world colder than mine get to experience.

Other than that I’m left with ques­tions, only questions…

January 28 2011 | Categories: gardeningphotographyplacesrambles | Tags: | 6 Comments »

hiding from the neighbors

We have new neigh­bors imme­di­ately behind the house next door. One of their first acts was to erect this gonzo back deck.

The pre­vi­ous owner was a house-bound woman who for the last twenty years of her life lived mostly indoors. Her back fence stopped at the prop­erty line and was six feet high. We never saw her, she never saw us.

The new own­ers, a young cou­ple, appar­ently didn’t care for the big dark fence get­ting in the way of their view. And they appar­ently didn’t think their back yard was large enough since the new deck juts out many feet into a city ease­ment. I’m sure they have a great view of the ocean. But using the equa­tion, I can see them = They can see us, I’m cer­tain they also have a tremen­dous view of my back yard.

There are a few islands of pri­vacy. This black bam­boo pro­vides a lit­tle bit of screening–if you’re stand­ing in just the right spot.

But this view from the bed­room win­dow shows that the isn’t much pri­vacy from much of the gar­den. I planted a Dr. Hurd man­zanita in front of the bam­boo, before the new neigh­bors moved in. Once it hits its twelve foot tar­get, it’ll help pro­vide some shel­ter. But being a man­zanita it’s tak­ing its good old time get­ting larger. Had I known we’ve have this pri­vacy issue I’d have planted some­thing faster grow­ing, maybe a desert willow.

A few things get in the way of plant­ing more large plants on the prop­erty line. There’s a buried drain–not the best thing to plant a small tree over. This is also the the south­ern edge to the prop­erty. A tree would pro­vide some shel­ter, but it would also shade a gar­den pop­u­lated with sun-loving plants and home­own­ers. Also, the pre­vi­ous own­ers of our house installed a large fish­pond in what would be the most wel­come spot for a small tree.

We’re still try­ing to think of what to do. Until we have a larger plan in place, we’re let­ting some plants get taller than we oth­er­wise might. This mys­tery shrub came with the house. Although it’s grow­ing too close to a fence to let it get very large, we’re still let­ting it grow taller. There’s one of these plants in the canyon nearby and the best idea I have is that if it’s native it might be a Pacific wax myr­tle (Morella (for­merly Myr­tica) cal­i­for­nica), but I think the ID is incor­rect because Calflora shows its native range end­ing to the north, in Los Ange­les County.

Here’s a closer look at the foliage. Later in the year it has tiny white flow­ers with an insanely pow­er­ful fragrance–gardenias on steroids, maybe. Feel free to send me any ideas for this plant’s iden­tity. It’s prob­a­bly wish­ful think­ing on my part think­ing this is a native instead of an escapee from one of the local gardens.

[ EDIT, Jan­u­ary 24 ] Well, I knew you guys would come through! Mag­gie and Bahia have pointed me in the right direc­tion. Think­ing that it was a local native was def­i­nitely wish­ful think­ing on my part. The mys­tery shrub is a Vic­to­rian box, Pit­tospo­rum undu­la­tum. The fact that it’s escaped into at least one spot in the local canyon makes me think that this is des­tined not a long-term plant, par­tic­u­larly when you con­sider that it can get mas­sive size for a sub­ur­ban lot, not to men­tion it’s ridicu­lously close place­ment to the fenceline.

The Cal­i­for­nia Inva­sive Plant Coun­cil describes its prob­lem poten­tial this way: “Infes­ta­tions in CA are small. More prob­lem­atic on north coast.” Not the worst plant, but I could def­i­nitely do better.

The pri­vacy prob­lem could be worse. The neigh­bors spend almost no time out­doors, and much of that is in the rel­a­tive pri­vacy of dark­ened evenings.

Still, gar­dens are as much about fan­tasy as they are real­ity. It’s not that we’re doing any­thing par­tic­u­larly scan­dalous in the back yard, really. But if we were, we wouldn’t want the neigh­bors to see!

January 24 2011 | Categories: gardeninglandscape designmy garden | Tags: | 18 Comments »

january bloomday

The big aloe, Aloe arborescens, up close

Here goes… Jan­u­ary bloom­day, hosted by Carol of May Dreams Gar­dens.

The front gar­den, like the rest of my lot, mixes Cal­i­for­nia natives with exotics from all over. Our local blad­der­pod in the fore­ground, yel­low and perky and vir­tu­ally ever-blooming, with a big clump of aloe that owns January.

Folks in colder cli­mates may be drool­ing a bit, but there’s a price for year-round gar­dens: Year-round weeds! Since this is Bloom­day, let me start off with a few weeds in bloom, doing their best to gen­er­ate even more weeds. There are times when I think that it might be nice to live where you can for­get about weed­ing for three months or more…

Weedy night­shade, right before I pulled it up

Weedy cham­momile rel­a­tive, Pineap­ple Weed

Pure yel­low evil, from the big fam­ily that gives us sunflowers

Weedy grass

Cal­i­for­nia native Corethrog­yne (Lessin­gia) filagini­fo­lia duk­ing it out with weedy alyssum


But through the magic of pho­tog­ra­phy, an artis­tic medium well suited to telling lies and half-truths, here are some blooms for the month. I could tell you there are no weeds around these bloom­ing plants, but then I’d be lying. Big time.

From Cal­i­for­nia, and the Cal­i­for­nia floris­tic province:

Hum­ming­bird sage, Salvia spathacea

A pros­trate form of the local black sage, Salvia mel­lif­era, pick­ing up its flowering

Our local very fra­grant night­shade, Solanum parishii

Win­nifred Gilman sage, with a few scant flow­ers, not quite buy­ing into the fact that spring is coming.

Tree Core­op­sis or Giant Core­op­sis, Core­op­sis gigan­tea, still a ways to go before achiev­ing tree status

San Diego Sun­flower, Bahiop­sis (Vigu­iera) lacinata, bat­tling ice­plant on the slope

One of almost a dozen mon­keyflower seedlings. It is def­i­nitely partly Mimu­lus auran­ti­a­cus, but other species could be involved.

Ver­bena lilacina

A lone Coast Sun­flower, Encelia cal­i­for­nica, with way too many weeds back on the neglected slope garden

Santa Cruz Island Buck­wheat, Eri­o­gonum arborescens

Our local chap­ar­ral cur­rant, Ribes indeco­rum, pleas­ant, not spectacular

Arc­tostaphy­los man­zanita Dr. Hurd

Astra­galus nut­tal­lii, from the Cal­i­for­nia Cen­tral Coast

Okay, every­one, say awwwwww. Car­pen­te­ria california



From beyond California:

Your basic pros­trate rosemary

The last of the bicolor nar­cis­sus. I didn’t get the cam­era out while it was look­ing nice.

A kalan­choe species or Edit Jan­u­ary 17 Cotyle­don orbiculata–see first com­ment from Elephant’s Eye

Your basic jade plant

Cras­sula mul­ti­cava, a low ground­cover with vaporous lit­tle jade-plant-like flow­ers float­ing above it

Arc­to­tis Big Magenta

Another Arc­to­tis hybrid

Your basic pros­trate rosemary

Peo­ple gen­er­ally grow aeo­ni­ums for their foliage…

…but they also have a month or so when their flow­ers can upstage the plant.

And humans aren’t the only species that appre­ci­ates the flow­ers. Look closely and you’ll see quite a few ants going to town…


Two forms of Oxalis pur­purea, pur­ple– and green-leaved. It’s pretty, but best con­tained in warmer cli­mates where it can spread.

Sleepy Oxalis pur­purea flower, slowly unfurl­ing as the morn­ing advances, feel­ing blurry until until the sun hits it.


Green rose in bud…

Green rose unfurled…looking a lit­tle less green.



Check­ing out the gar­den, pho­tograph­ing flow­ers, you get to see what’s going on in the gar­den. I’ve men­tioned the weeds already. Now, let’s add gopher holes into the mix shall we?

While I’ve pretty much given up try­ing to con­trol the gophers, I can at least pick away at the weed­ing. Okay, enough blog­ging for now. Time to pull some weeds. But maybe I’ll check out a few more Gar­den Blog­gers Bloom Day posts first…


January 15 2011 | Categories: gardeningmy garden | Tags: | 25 Comments »

words, beautiful words

What are blog­gers talk­ing about dur­ing these cold Jan­u­ary days? Here’s an addic­tively fun way to find out.

Wor­dle lets you gen­er­ate word clouds that are stun­ningly beau­ti­ful to look at. The site calls itself “a toy for gen­er­at­ing ‘word clouds’ from text that you pro­vide,” but I’d argue that it’s an inter­est­ing way to fig­ure out the gist of what’s being discussed.

Word clouds have been around for a few years now. I wrote about them back in the ear­lier days of this blog, and this blog dis­plays a tag cloud on the left panel. But Wor­dle gives you all sorts of con­trol over things like color, font, lan­guage and arrange­ment. Just click on the home page’s “Cre­ate” tab to get going. All you need is some canned text, a link to a blog or web­site with an RSS or Atom feed, or you can enter a del.icio.us user­name to see a cloud of their tags.

Here’s a quick Wor­dled look at some of the posts on some Cal­i­for­nia mostly-gardening blogs. I selected black back­grounds for all of them so that there’s a basis for com­par­ing them visu­ally, but I had way too much fun cre­at­ing color com­bi­na­tions and pick­ing fonts and word arrange­ments. The blog con­tents should be cur­rent as of last night, Jan­u­ary 13.

(There are a huge num­ber of these. I’ve been home with a cold, too messed up to think coherently–but not too com­pro­mised to play with shapes and pretty col­ors. It makes me won­der whether the part of the brain that thinks is even in the same zip code as where artis­tic activ­ity takes place…)

To start off, the con­tent of this blog, before this post…

Cal­i­for­nia Native Plants…San Diego Style, Wor­dled.

Sierra Foothill Gar­den, Wor­dled.

Weed­ing Wild Sub­ur­bia

Tulips in the Woods

Town Mouse and Coun­try Mouse

The Pitcher Plant Project

Rooted in Cal­i­for­nia… (Did some­body say gelato?)

Queer by Choice

Laguna Dirt

Dry Stone Gar­den

Chance of Rain

Camissonia’s Cor­ner

Blue Planet Gar­den Blog

Bay Area Ten­drils Gar­den Travel

Idora Design

How’s Rob?, Wor­dled. Bees!

Hey Natives

Grow Natives Blog

Breath­ing Treat­ment

Deb­o­rah Small’s Eth­nob­otany Blog

GrokSurf’s San Diego

And how do Cal­i­for­nia obses­sions com­pare to those from other parts of the country?

From New Jer­sey: View From Fed­eral Twist. Dur­ing the cold of win­ter, do peo­ple liv­ing in what I’d call the frozen tun­dra retreat indoors?

Cape Cod: The Mid­night Gar­den

From in the rain shadow of the Olympics, Wash­ing­ton State: Ver­dure

Ore­gon: Dan­ger Gar­den

Maine: Jean’s Gar­den

And how about to some blogs from other parts of the world?

From the UK: An Artist’s Gar­den

Also from the UK: The Patient Gar­dener

UK again: Plan­talis­cious

My Lit­tle Gar­den in Japan

South Africa: Elepant’s Eye

So, after look­ing at of these, do you think the word clouds begin to fairly rep­re­sent what the blogs are dis­cussing? Or is Wor­dle really just a toy?

January 14 2011 | Categories: artgardening | Tags: | 22 Comments »

winter sycamores

It’s time for my annual trib­ute to the win­ter sycamore trees. The week of rain lead­ing up to Christ­mas has left most of the trees bare, their leaves on the ground.


So, when life mainly gives you fallen leaves, that’s mainly what I’ve taken pho­tos of this year. I won’t call this great art but I do like the square shot of the bare branches…maybe a lit­tle Jack­son Pol­lack or Harry Calla­han

The ques­tion I’ve been ask­ing myself a lot this sea­son: Is it just my imag­i­na­tion, or do the leaves more often than not land butter-side-down, with their top sides usu­ally against the dirt? Maybe the way they’re weighted? Or are they unsta­ble if they land on their stems so that the wind blows them over?


January 10 2011 | Categories: placesplant profiles | Tags: | 5 Comments »