This piece makes me smile...a contemplative moment, "the resignation that living brings."
Torn and tattered feathers - perhaps many of us can relate to that? After this year, after these lives. And yet we soar, dear reader! I see you there, with your brave and crazy wings. Still flying. :)
After more than a year of narrowing our circles to the smallest possible sphere, we are beginning to move in wider circles. Not me, yet. But the world around me - restaurants, shops, people. Wider circles. And soon, me, too.
What grabs me about this song, these lyrics, is the idea of being beside someone through fear. The concept of compass and lighthouse. And haven't we, dear reader, marched together through this past year? So many of you have been (and are and are becoming and will become) my lighthouse. And if I'm lucky, I'll be a compass for someone, too. (Disclaimer! I can't use an actual compass yet, but I will learn!). The darkness is passing; the clearing is coming. We are opening our circles.
We become our choices.
There is an inclination to philosophize while hiking. To untangle the experience of life and reframe it in the expansive view of sky and sea and soil. And there it is easy to look back at a life and say - yes, this. I became my choices. And I still become my choices. Except now, sometimes, if I am listening well, the choice becomes obvious - the moon full, information revealed, choice easy. I choose. I become. Slip and stubbornness give way to slide and surrender. I become.
About the art: This piece happened spontaneously. A late evening spent purusing Pinterest boards of avant-garde fashion. An antlered woman in a white lace gown inspired the pose. Bones - of animals and of trees - collected on a beach hike informed the stark color palette. A quick sketch with charcoal, then very wet titanium white to rough in the form. Ultramarine blue and raw umber and titanium white only, brushed on in thin, watery washes. Resisting the urge to complete the background...allowing her to emerge, half formed as if in mid-transformation.
I am almost there.
On the way. Arrival anticipated. Losing my sense of separation.
The world conspires with me. Beauty beckons. Inspiration appears. Paint flows. The words arrive to marry with the art. The time opens up to curate them together. A week of what could have been snafus, odd occurrences and off mojo turns into a domino fall of positivity. I lean back into the universe, feel its arms softly hold me, and breathe.
Jen Jovan and her imaJENation