Opposition

 

Restlessness surging -- gray skies and clouds scudding overhead -- winds blowing, whipping trees into a frenzy --

The changing seasons always seems to make one unsettled, as if trying to get the sea legs squared away beneath one --

The urge to drive straight north up to the Canadian border non-stop, to see mountains and hillsides slipping gold and scarlet petticoats mixed with the scent of pine --

One theory in American history is that the westward expansion was fueled by the growing sense of claustrophobia here on the East Coast, with its' crowded cities and towns.

I believe it. Henry Thoreau's acreage around Walden Pond is surrounded by developments and corporations leaking out from the Boston area. The Cape is a long string of beach motels and cottages, many strung with for sale signs.

But one must slog on. Soon we adjust -- to the light, to the growing cold, to the crowded highways and strip malls.

An escape hatch is needed -- where do we find them?

Inside our heads as we feel for the edges of our space . . . 

in one breath

leaves fall --

skies open wide

*   *   *

You see, I want a lot.
Perhaps I want everything:
the darkness that comes with every infinite fall
and the shivering blaze of every step up.
Rilke 

Autumn Light & Shadow

Autumn -- one of the most beautiful seasons with nature's array of colors, but also one of the saddest -- losing the light, deepening shadows conveying a sense of urgency, a growing awareness of decay beside such beauty.

Because of the drought we've experienced, the leaves are brittle and dry, curling up upon themselves before their time. I picked several hosta leaves that, to me, appeared almost mummified, frozen in time. I wanted to try and capture the delicacy of these structures. I knew I couldn't accomplish this with my camera, so I carefully scanned them, using a length of velvet as a soft weight.

I want to continue these explorations, this navigation through a shadow world that demands we look closely and spend time with these fragile structures.

So, as the light begins to fade and the orb of sun drifts down into the horizon, cherish the light -- grab those final moments and celebrate Autumn!

Come forth into the light of things.

Let nature be your teacher.

William Wordsworth

Translations & Obliterations: New Work

Last weekend was a good weekend/holiday -- quiet with lots of time to paint and explore various ways to express thoughts and desires.  The weather was perfect -- sunny, warm with intermittent cool breezes.  One day it was watercolors and gouache, using papers that had been gessoed, painting watercolor/gouache on jajara paper (handmade in India).  I found it could really take a beating -- scrubbing, multiple layers of paints, etc.

But now this weekend was good in an all-together different way -- weather was chilly, clouds scudding through, sun in and out (mostly in).  So I worked inside trying out ideas on these 8" x 8" gallery canvases.  There are "unsuccessful" paintings underneath, so that the primed surface was very textured and rough.  Working with wax and oils, I scrubbed and rubbed, using fragments of other paintings and found translations from old Italian and French dictionaries published back in the 1920s --

Translation #1: I shall love

Translation #2: That I might love

While I let those dry, I moved over to the "paper" table and worked on more "Translations," using watercolor papers, fragments of old paintings and more dictionary terms. What great fun!  Time slid by unnoticed, music played and incense burned. No inner critics around, either . . . :-)

Translation #3: I would speak

I'll continue to work on this series of translations and see where it leads me -- another creative trail to follow.  There's something about these notions of ephemera that intrigue me -- flotsam and jetsam, bits and pieces of sentiments, thoughts, passing moments in time that drift into oblivion, obliterated from sight and mind . . .

Time flies on restless pinions - constant never.  

Friedrich Schiller