This morning I could already feel a change in the air. Oh, there were things to do. I quickly had a list of to do's. Most having to do with clearing space, a few bits of organizing. Returning library books had to fit in somewhere, groceries, laundry, the usual. Afterwards, it did seem a bit much, even with the sense of greater spaciousness that seems to arrive after a holiday.
I needed to fit in some exercise after all the wonderous feasting and the noisy gym just didn't seem to be calling me. Then I thought of my favorite trail. It is a bit chilly, gloves and scarf would be needed. So I packed everything up in the car and headed for the forest.
By the time I hit the trail, I couldn't keep the smile off my face. This is my place of inspiration. These beings that root deeply into the earth and reach so deliberately heavenward amaze me. Sleeping now, though there is still a scent of leaves, wood and earth that tells me there is life. I pat a few as I walk by, like old friends. Somehow I think they are still releasing their healing pheromes even in winter. If there was a perfume with this scent , I would wear it all winter long.
The sky is grey, but I am thinking of the gemstone colors on my palette at home, some Kyanite mixed with a bit of amethyst would be the sky colors. The trees a deeply granulating ink with a glaze of serpentine moss. The trees and sky tell me the colors they want to be and I take quick notes in a tiny sketchbook in my pocket.
I breathe deeply. Finding a bench, I sit and give my gratitudes. It's almost time to go home. I could spend the entire day out here with these trees, the soft brown leaves and grey sky. It's time to go home and be in the world again, but I know I can always come back.
Tell me, do you ever escape from your to do list and let the trees tell you how to paint the sky?
Kathleen Barnes, Paintdiva
Art is my passport to a limitless journey. When I am not exploring my materials on a technical level, there is visual exploration before me. When that seems a bit thin, there is a deep calling from the realm of my imagination. Sometimes all three come together in a perfect storm. That storm, that combination of the real, the imagined and the very paint and canvas is what calls me daily, and I answer as much as I can.....