Stillness

Woke to soundless wonder this morning in Maine, with a silent moving picture outside the window—endless soft white crystals like so much confectioner's sugar sifting down in front of a monochromatic backdrop of evergreens still showing black before dawn.  

Tiptoed downstairs to my perch on the loveseat, the gentle hum of the furnace the only sound, Futh still upstairs asleep.

Pulled out another postcard setup. Put the start of an idea in place with soft deliberation, making intentional marks but wondering where they might take me. 

Loved the shift from … is it from one side of the brain to the other? from mind to intuition? from physical to spiritual? Matters not. Loved that I started with some tidy lines and soon found myself creating from a snowfall-induced inner stillness that opened space for messy scribbles.

I started as the do-er and became the observer.

4x5", acrylic, ink, and wax pastel on manila stock
abstract
2016
[not for sale]

humble beginnings

silent moving picture outside my window,
showing here as a still shot

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Postscript: I drafted this post immediately after painting first thing this morning. Drove from Maine winter to Massachusetts summer this afternoon—it was 58 degrees when I got home!