The Big and the Small of It

 

Last week on a mini-trip through the Northern Cascade Mountains, we stopped at Washington Pass. After a short, steep hike to the lookout, we were greeted by an awesome view of snow capped mountains.  What could be more glorious than to see that great expanse and to feel the power and the grandeur of those huge craggy peaks!   Seeing that panorama, I felt a bit overwhelmed and inspired at the same time, a teeny part of something so much bigger than I could possibly imagine.

Then we left the path (and the other people) behind and started climbing even higher on smooth, gently slanted rocks.  Relaxing on those warm rocks, I became fascinated with the patterns and shapes created by their natural pink-tinted color and by the green moss that had formed a thin layer over their surface, creating endless swatches of color and light.  So much beauty!  The vast mountains contrasted with the microscopic formations on the rocks.  Seeing the mountains from afar, while touching and feeling into the rocks.

Sitting there and looking back and forth between the two, it came to me that I wanted to recreate that feeling of contrast in my studio.  The big and the small of it.  To look deeply within at my own feelings and my own creative process and at the same time to reflect the state of the world surrounding me.  I confess that I am much more comfortable with my inner world.  But the desire to tackle the larger issues that confront us all is there.  The rocks and also the mountain.

 

Perfection

This jellyfish was so beautiful!  Hanging out on the clear, cold water on a semi-cloudy day.  It could change almost instantly from a deep pink blob to this glowing circle, this flower from the sea.  A mandala made by nature, so beautiful in its soft pink perfection, its petals softly being moved by the water all around it.

There’s a part of me that wants to be able to paint that jellyfish exactly.  To capture each detail, even though that is not my style and I’d never capture what my eye could see.  It was so fascinating to look at and seemed to say come closer, come closer.  Look at me.  Let me entice you. Please enjoy my beauty.

But I remembered that the jellyfish could sting me.   This perfect circle could be deadly.  So I kept my distance.  This was not my mandala.  It didn’t belong to me.  I think that I’ll paint the essence of it.  I’ve felt into its perfect world and transformed just a little part of it into my own.  It’s color and form are part of me now.  Both the blob and the lovely under water  flower.  All one.

 

Watching…

orca drawing

 

 

Watching myself…

as I procrastinate getting back into the studio after being in Water Gap for two weeks.  Yes, we have wonderful company to distract me.  Yes, it is a very busy time.  Yes, there are many weeds in the garden.  And yes, there is a knowing that I need life and some rest right now to feed what can happen in the studio.  So I watch myself without judgment (or at least try to keep those judgmental feelings to a minimum).

Watching the whales…

though the Orca “killer” whales are really in the dolphin family and have that same special power of communication.  For the first time since we have lived here, motivated by having our friends visiting, we took a whale watch tour.  It was totally magical!  A very special voyage with two Orcas choosing to come as close as thirty feet from the boat.  We also saw two whales breaching (not so common) and felt so honored.  And we saw the 100 year old Granny Whale with her daughter and grandchildren.  Oh my!  Not even one good photo, but no matter.  It is all in my heart and in every cell of my body.  And it has everything in the world to do with making art.

Too much watching?

Inside, outside, upside down.  Start to Be more.  Be the watching.  Take the lesson from the whales.  All the rest is gone!

from tree to shining tree

Here I am at home after a mere twenty eight-hour journey from the East to the West.  From the amazing willow tree across from the Deer Head in Delaware Water Gap to the huge cedar tree outside of our house.  From  a sultry Tuesday to a sunny breezy Wednesday.  From celebrating the Solstice in Anita/Interplay style to embracing summer Orcas style.  From Reiki Reiki Reiki to Art Art Art.  Time to shift my focus once again.  Making art here on Orcas and playing in the glorious garden.  Practicing Reiki in PA and feeling so happy that the art gets seen.  Thank you Delaware Water Gap!  Hello Orcas!

Time After Time

Somehow it all comes together, and keeps coming together.  My past, present and future.  The chance to share my art work, my ability to practice and teach Reiki, the deep need to stay connected with dear friends, the desire for jazz.  Feels so complete, familiar, safe.  But let’s not forget the humidity, the allergies, the poison ivy.  The reality.  It’s all here in Delaware Water Gap, all around me.  All OK.  Somehow it works.  Four times a year.  Coming back.  Time after time.