The Challenge for July is Whimsy

By Lynne Ayers In photography, the golden hour is the period of daytime shortly after sunrise or before sunset, during which daylight is redder and softer than when the sun is higher in the sky. (wikipedia)

But there’s also the blue hour.

It occurs when the sun is far enough below the horizon so that the sunlight’s blue wavelengths dominate due to the Chappuis absorption caused by ozone.^[2] Since the term is colloquial, it lacks an official definition such as dawn, dusk, or the three stages of twilight. Rather, blue hour refers to the state of natural lighting that usually occurs around the nautical stage of the twilight period (at dawn or dusk) (wikipedia)

There’s blue in the face …

And the winter blues … 

And true blue – unswerving loyalty.

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By Yvonne Callaway Music can be a source for visual art. My preference is jazz. I created a series a few years ago that included a tribute to Miles Davis.

By Susan Irving This is a small painting I did as a gift to an old and dear friend of my family.  He is like a second little brother to me. Roddy is an amazingly talented guitarist . The painting is called Blues for Roddy.

By Hélène Céré  I painted this a few years back. It is inspired from a scene on the Georgian Bay, view from the shoreline in Meaford.  

It was early fall 2020, we were out for the day driving and exploring.  What else could you do during the early pandemic!  The sky was covered by a veil of clouds, a gentle breeze was blowing the tall grasses.  Through the vegetation on the shore of Lake Huron, I saw three ducks passing by.  It was a beautiful and serene moment.  

I tried to capture that moment in this painting.

By Milo Smith I decided to do “Blue” rather than “Blues”.  I searched out images with impact with a significant blue element to them.  What do you think?

By Laura Peck Out of the blue is the title and my answer to the challenge! 

By Susan Latreille Here are a couple of enhanced photos that I took at Cooper’s Marsh.

They were both already predominantly blue photos but I upped the ante making them bluer than blue.

By Isabelle Utovac

I have many hues of blue among my wax crayons. I tried to use as many as possible.
J’ai plusieurs teintes de bleu parmi mes crayons de cire. J’ai essayé d’en utiliser le plus que possible.

The Devil Sings the Blues/ Le diable chante le blues, Wax crayons on cardstock/Crayons de cire sur papier cartonné, 8 x 10″

Seeing blues/ Voir le blues, Wax crayons on cardstock/Crayons de cire sur papier cartonné, 8 x 10″

Siberian squill/ Scille de Sibérie, Photography/ Photographie

Earthly Blues
 
Maybe it’s because I muse
on a daily basis about the feelings that are so tenacious
in my heart of blues
 
I am powerless to choose
a different inclination
from the thoughts that come from isolation
in my mind of blues
 
The muscles, the bones hurt like a bruise
with the slightest touch
that didn’t sense much
in my body of blues
 
And this body forms a home for a recluse
a secret hideaway
that will eventually die away
leaving my soul of blues
 
To end its wrestle
on the the earthly plane
entering the celestial, hearing the orchestral strain
singing the glad refrain
 
The Devil Sings the Blues
 
Hypocrisy, lies and fear
The flames burn near
Debt accrues
Will I have to sing the blues?
 
Sweat, tears, teeth are gnashing
Earth quaking, thunder crashing
The pain ensues
Will I have to sing the blues?
 
There’s folk that do wrong
They don’t belong
In the pews
Will they sing the blues?
 
The cries, the moans, the grunts
He’s tempted me more than once
I see his ruse
The devil sings the blues
 
There’s enough hurt to rot me
He thinks he’s got me
So I’ll lose
But the devil sings the blues
 
More stench, more filth, more sin
This time I won’t let it in
I refuse
The devil sings the blues
 
Shrieking, spitting
Crimes committing
I’m marked with holy oil
He goads me, never quitting
Until I loose this mortal coil
 
I’ve done wrong, I repent
I’m set for punishment
They accuse
The devil sings the blues
 
Michael, Gabriel, Raphael
The loss of heaven and the pains of Hell
I’m washed in the blood that renews
The devil sings the blues