Growing it – Painting it – Bliss

This morning I caught light in a dew drop. Tiny glowing universe most likely filled with a million microorganisms; delighting in the fact that the sun had risen in their tiny orb-like world. Myself… observing, they… not a clue of my presence.

We must marvel in these simple things. The beauty of a dew drop, poised in perfect suspension as not to fall off the leaf of its sunflower home.  A chipmunk chirping instead of the quick noxious hum of passing cars. The temperature of the air that you feel slipping a window open, the first hour of your day.

I have been a whirlwind of creativity lately, as I prepare for my upcoming show at The Newburgh Brewing Company in Newburgh, New York for the month of October. I am quite adept at procrastinating. So each show that comes finds me buzzing like a bee, hurriedly collecting pollen for pollen’s sake. I tell myself, that I will never do this to myself again… but alas, I do. I’m not sour about it though…I’m good at the hustle. Working under pressure use to really get me stressed, anxious, and frazzled. Now I have accepted that quite literally “is what it is”, and there will be no gain from getting upset. Extra time in my studio is always a blessing.

Autumn arrived yesterday with a waxing crescent moon. In the dark of early night, driving home from visiting The Newburgh Brewing Company (had to check the space, to make sure I bring enough pieces of artwork) and dinner out, a meteorite dashed through the sky just ahead of us on the open highway… what most would call, a “shooting star”. Never in my life had I seen such a rare sight, neither had my husband. The blaze of it burned a barn red for a fraction of a second, then transformed into hot electric green with a long lighter green tail before completely deteriorating into our atmosphere. It was…. well, wordless. One of those speechless moments that cannot be expressed through language. It was more of a pure emotional instance of the heart, as you’re reminded just how very small you are in the grand scheme of things. I love that my husband and I experienced a “first” together. I love that it happened on the first day of Autumn. I adore that it happened at all. Such occurrences, make you feel as if it happened only for you. And perhaps it did, perhaps no one else noticed the glowing streak in the sky.

I wish I had a photo of the “shooting star”, I find myself wanting to to see it one more time. The moment happened SO quickly that of course I don’t. You can’t plan for spontaneous magic. Luckily I have a photographic memory, and this special moment is now engraved in my mind. I could… paint it, but I think I’ll keep this one under my hat. It felt… personal.

I find that opening yourself up to noticing small nuances lifts you into higher awareness. The dewdrop, the “shooting star”, and so much more. It all reminds me that life is full of possibility. Even in this day and age where everything seems planned and preordained. It’s not, every day holds new opportunity. New wonder. A clean and wondrous slate where you hold the chalk.

There is so much pressure in a first post is there not? The feeling of a need to impress, right out of the gate? Meh, no need for silly and self-induced pressure. And so, let’s pretend I’ve been writing all along. Sharing my stories with you. Visually and linguistically tugging your heart-strings. Making you laugh even.

This is morning, late August, on a day that more closely resembles mid-September. I’ve spent time in my art studio, meandered out to the coop where I let the girls out, and they’ve followed me back to the house where I now sit. Sunshine warming my legs and coffee warming my insides, Louseen my buff Americauna jumps up for a closer look as to what I’m doing. Cicadas hum. Bees buzz. And all seems right with the world.

Mornings are like that. Before the day has started, you feel fresh and hopefully your not holding onto anything from the day before. Or maybe you are, and that’s okay… cause goodness knows I hold onto shit with an iron vice sometimes and we are all human. Can’t expect sleep to always wash away what once remained.

Whatever you may be, or it may be… mornings brings the promise of new beginning. For the sun, always rises. Even behind clouds, or storms, or rain… it comes.

I am reminded of that now, as I take in this uncommonly quiet start. To this place called a blog. Welcome to the my corner of the internet, where I will write from both places of creativity and rural life. This is where the artist and my chicken loving life unite. My inspration, my everyday get up and go. Welcome!