In my previous blog post, I began exploring an invitation (exhortation?) from poet Mary Oliver to stand still and learn to be astonished.
Subsequent to posting, I quickly realize I need first to learn to stand still.
To fully press pause.
My daughter once told me she carries a mental image of me in which I appear as a head moving full speed forward trailing my body and feet behind.
So, yeah. Starting point: learn to stand still.
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| Place 4 x 6" postcard; acrylic, ink, and collage on card stock abstract 2021 |
6 comments:
oh. my. I can see the mental image your daughter described! (takes one to know one - ha ha!). Standing still. So hard. But you got this. In the beautiful cool blue and lavender place with just enough black to keep it grounded and just enough white to keep it airy and a squiggled line that might be a person trying to stand still...
indeed that scribbled squiggled line —— snipped randomly from an acrylic skin in which a much larger field of scribble was embedded —— became a person grounded in stillness, holding a bouquet of prayerful astonishment. thx for your feedback, Jen!
LOVe the marks and dots and layers and gorgeous sunny colors. And the stick figure, reaching up in Prayer. Hand in the air like "S.T.O.P.". Or reaching up to do something while also stirring and swirling with the other hand. Thank you for the pop of Pizzazz in my mailbox Dotty :)
Isn't that stick figure fun? S/he is literally a random snippet cut from a much larger scribble —— a snippet that suddenly came to life.
Sheila, thank you for seeing the marks, dots, layers, and colors. They were an organic intuitive outpouring that brought delight in the making.
I need to learn that one again and again....
For sure, I do not have an intuitive reflexive press-pause behavior!
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