As I child, I was fascinated with fairies, goblins and elves. It never occurred to me that they didn’t exist. Snails provided icing for my mud pies while I slept and the next day the pies were magically transformed. Mushrooms and Toadstools housed the smallest of beings – too tiny to actually see but I knew they were there. Water droplets, caught by the sun, provided me with a myriad of colors. It was here nature spirits wanted my attention. As an adult, I don’t think I have changed these beliefs very much. Nature spirits still dance with the sun on my lawn. Everything is alive with an innate life force motivated by a Divine Intelligence. Attaching a name to something, defining it, and giving it only one meaning dismisses it. Much is lost because of this. Imagination is squelched. Shame really...
The Garden Nymph looks back at me with as much curiosity as the one who is doing the looking. Camouflaged by its surroundings, this little character is not in the slightest bit interested in what I think or what anyone else thinks either – it lives with its own “is-ness”, it exists for its own sake. We could learn a lot from such a being. Being sensitive to other realities is fodder for artists. I am glad it runs parallel to my existence. Does it make me a better painter? I hope so. I know it expands my viewpoint – of what I consider appropriate subject matter. Like all esoteric paintings, they paint themselves and The Garden Nymph is one of those.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorLike painting, writing is another form of creative expression. Instead of using brushstrokes, however, one uses words. Writing creates inner visualization and this is what this blog is to be about. Some writings will have paintings but not all of them. The covid pandemic has brought out the writer in me and I am loving creating using this venue. Archives
April 2022
Categories |