milestones

For some reason I was reluctant to go down to the river the other evening on our walk. But overlooking all the debris along the bank, the sun setting on the trees across the water lit a tiny spark in me. While this picture is taken with just my phone, the scene stirred the desire to pick up a real camera. And I imagined what the light, the trees and water would look like on film. It's been quite a while since I have felt that tug, as if my eyes have been veiled to seeing beauty or anything of interest.

Last night we ate a salad of greens from our garden, garlic and rosemary red potatoes, lentils, cranberry stilton and sharp vermont cheddar with water crackers, a really good apple, and roasted local chestnuts for dinner. The variety of flavors tasted so good, I savored every bite. Autumn foods might be my favorite. Or, maybe it's that the chilled autumn air makes me want to be in the kitchen, making warm and fragrant foods. Or, maybe it's because we sanded and refinished the kitchen floors last weekend and rearranged a few things, and I just like being there.

Two milestones: Last week I turned a year older. And we got rid of my old truck. It was my first car, one I'd had since 1997. She was dependable and I'll never forget how excited I was when we purchased her. A bittersweet goodbye.

Otherwise, my October was difficult, personally. I am thankful for a new month.

 

A picture of the west sun streaming across my table yesterday afternoon. Slowly I've been working on a new 4x4ft watercolor painting. I wouldn't say it is a large version of my smaller work, it is something else entirely. It is its own piece. Yet it does contain elements that earmark my work, moments of representation and hand written thoughts, to name two. And on the surface it seems about one thing, but it has an underlying layer of other meaning that is completely transparent. For now, I am moving through it, giving it time. Giving myself time. So forgive me if I simply tell you about it, rather than show you. It may be one of those pieces that remains my own. Only more time and thought will reveal whether it needs to be shown publicly.

today in the studio

 

"upside down and starting over, again", watercolor on paper, 3 in. x 3 in.

Today I ordered a giant roll of watercolor paper. Knowing that paper is on the way, I tore into my last sheet of hot press paper. Over the past couple days I have tried to like cold press but I prefer the smooth surface of hot press. Anyway, then I made this piece, restricting myself to one color (a mixture of blues) and two brushes. Why these constraints? Sometimes I need to make things smaller in order to see bigger, or to move beyond my usual way of doing things. Limit myself in order to find possibilities, or to set the piece free to be something else.

Nature and creativity

A poplar leaf picked up on a recent morning walk.

This morning while washing dishes I heard a brief segment on our local NPR station about the impact that being in nature has on the brain. (And of course I can't find it to share a link, but it was part of Research Matters.) In their research they partnered with Outward Bound and sent people to places like Alaska and California. They then did cognitive studies on them and found people had greater capacity for creativity and imagination after being outdoors. Furthermore, they stated that being in nature allows time for the mind to rest (or take a break from the onslought of information of too much screen time) which opens it's ability to be creative.

It makes perfect sense to me. On my non-teaching mornings I take a brisk walk outside and I know that even after this brief time I am better prepared mentally for the studio. If we lived in a rural area with woods, mountains or ocean nearby I would certainly be out longer and more frequently. So unplug and get outdoors this weekend!