Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Thoughts & Art

“I think sometimes about old painters—they get so simple in their means. Just so plain and simple. Because they know they haven’t got time. One is aware of this as one gets older. You can’t waste time.” ~ Ursula K. Le Guin

Here in the mountains, fall leaves flutter quietly to earth, scattering across yards, blue sky and flocks of birds overhead. Life changes all around, a reminder of the time we're here on the planet. Mornings, I go out to the front garden to pull ivy, a most thankless task, yet Zen-like in its approach: chop wood. Carry water. Chop wood. Carry water. Then after a warm-up, I paint: either on the front porch 'studio', or on the back deck. These days, I'm very aware of the passing of time, the shortness of it all: and find myself terribly grateful of heart that I'm here, one more day. This is a rocky path I've chosen, but there is no other: there is light in my heart from the creating of art, of words. I hope others find it along the way.

In a few days, I pack River dog up in my old VW and head down to Tybee Island--books, t-shirts, paints will be coming along for the ride. Sometimes it's good to renew one's spirit, to go forth to the sea--to walk in sand and look at the vast stretch of endless ocean and sky. You can't waste time. While here, chop wood; carry water.

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