Monday, October 14, 2013

The Turning of Seasons: New Paintings

Sometimes in late summer I won't touch anything, not
the flower, not the blackberries
brimming in the thickets; I won't drink
from the pond; I won't name the birds or the trees;
I won't whisper my own name.

One morning
the fox came down the hill, glittering and confident,
and didn't see me— and I thought:

so this is the world
I'm not in it.
It is beautiful.

—Excerpt from October
Mary Oliver, New and Collected Poems, Beacon Press 1992 many times I've thought these very thoughts while observing all that is around me, just being in the world, feeling life brush against my cheek. Life goes on, all around: fall brings changes in colors of leaves, whispers of frost, turning thoughts in the heart. Over the weekend I worked on finishing up a couple of new paintings; as the weather grows colder, I'll have to move my paints inside. When leaves are gold and scarlet, sky blue, sun out, I'll be back outside with paint brushes!

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