Art and Nature

  Nearly every night I awake to quench my thirst.  I step out of my bedroom and onto the deck where I blindly feel for the door handle to enter the dark yurt.  I immediately reach for the light switch and walk across the cold floor to the sink where I fill my glass in a somnabulant state.  After gulping down refreshing water, I walk back outside to my bed in the little dome.   I see the moon glowing silently on the horizon, and I frequently remember my dreams after greeting this eerie bright light rising from behind the trees.

     In the morning I heat water for tea.  My tiny furry kitty Falena, aka “dainty monkey” greets me as she prances swiftly from the cat door to her food dish.  I rush to put on my clothes, I have to hurry out the door to greet a new friend today.   I swiftly dart out the door and Falena follows me to the car as usual, curious as to where I disappear to in my travel pod.  Driving down the hill, I can see the revitalizing view of the mountains.   Colors are bright, the landscape presents a crisp and detailed panorama of slow creeping clouds and dancing yellow spears of pine and madrone trees.  My heart fills with joy as I behold the land the morning after a fresh rain.

     Driving fast on the windy road, I embrace the hypnotic pulse of light from the tree shadows hitting my windshield, chiming to the beat of my music.  As I pass through the country side admiring the glorious view, I come to a stop where I see a huge grandfather tree smashed and blocking the highway.  I gasp and wonder how powerful the winds must have been, and take in for a moment the weight of the huge beast lying across the road.  I turn the wheel, now warm from the sun, towards my destination where a new art patron awaits my arrival.

  We meet at a little restaurant in the country, and while sipping our coffees at the European style tables, share our love for the plant kingdom.  We have a very interesting conversation, one where you can understand where the other is coming from, on a very specific level.  Such a unique conversation, you feel like it is a story being written or a new idea being born.  He is anxious to be the new owner of my oil painting, "Two Bird Tribe".  It is still morning and my coffee is jolting through my system.  I don’t normally drink coffee, except when I’m socializing, which gets me really excited.  I go into the room and gaze upon my oil painting.  Its eyes meet mine again, and I look into their beings as if I am seeing them in a new light.  They almost seem to give me a high five, and I thank them for visiting my dreams.  I am filled with gratuity for having met a new friend and patron who adors my art and feels a similar affinity for the characters in the pictures that I paint.  I remember the moon on the horizon, and the delicate state of dreams and their significance.  Nature is always guiding me with beacons of light, and still moments of darkness, signaling my need to paint.  I can still smell the morning rain on the grass, and am filled with delight that my day is just beginning.