When you are playing with paint, reacquainting yourself with the pigments and water and how they interact, you are simultaneously looking more deeply into the subjects you paint. The shapes of twigs, the bark of a tree, the angle of limbs, the shadows and the light, how things look far away or close in, and you begin to see everything around you with renewed depth.
This is one of the many benefits of creative practice. It is not about the end result, though the result can be a reminder of who you were in that moment. But more importantly, it’s what is gained, what creating gives you, how it deepens your experience, your seeing and your awareness. Once you see a tree so deeply, see the light dancing around its edges and the stories it whispers of life and death and change, you never again feel quite the same about trees. In New Mexico the pines spoke of silence, of space, of the whispering breath of mountain winds. In New England, maple, birch and sweet gum towered over Queen Anne’s lace and Joe Pye weed and unveiled edges newly dipped in gold and scarlet after a chilling rain.
Our trees--living, breathing gifts to enjoy, to protect, to revere.
Your painting is very moving, you captured so eloquently the reflection of the trees in the water below. I too find peace around trees. When the wind rustles through their leaves, it is as if I almost feel a divine presence.
ReplyDeleteThanks you, indigo-daisy. I see everything in nature a bit like that. The more deeply I look, the more I know there is something more wonderful behind all that is.
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