|Wild sunflowers drenched in rain|
A week ago Sunday I resigned from my office of president of the board of a non-profit organization and from the board itself after ten years of active participation. I admit I took the easy way out. To have remained would have required some very difficult decisions and also created a maelstrom. To leave has just generated the wildest field of rumors believable. From my hideaway in Black Lake it has been interesting to watch; not unlike the blossoming of wildflowers and weeds in the parched earth beyond my sprinklers.
I used to care a lot about public opinion but I find, as I grow older, that people will believe what they want to believe and the truth generally matters not. Look at the verdict in the Casey Anthony trial for instance. Besides I have been rather busy reordering my life. I have always believed that spirit abhors a vacuum and the openness I have created by deciding not to do art fairs, or lead a non-profit organization will be filled with bigger and better things. Even if that is only a wildflower of brilliant but brief duration in the immediate future. The exercise is to live in the question and not rush for the answers.
It took a week but the paintings are rehung and yesterday I actually sat down and finished one I had begun. One that did not fit my "style" but was an interesting experiment in techniques. It is hard to play with art when everyone figures they know what to expect from you, and it is difficult to waste time exploring techniques when a show looms to prepare for. I spoke with a student this week about tithing to the muse. It is so easy to fall into the raging waters of I must produce - this painting must be perfect - and get carried away with achieving perfection or rescuing a "mistake." We do learn from our mistakes if we will allow ourselves to make them. So we must tithe by playing with our talent - being open to the possibilities.
During the course of that lesson I worked on a few little examples on scraps of canvas. One of them begs me to explore further in that direction. And I look at the others and wonder if I could work them into a collage. I have not done a collage of scraps of this and that for decades. Too busy with my "real life." I have come to realize this week that I was too busy to notice what was real.
As for the weeds and wildflowers growing beyond the sprinkler's reach - they are pretty and survivors. And the rumors? They have a life of their own, but those that matter will know them lies. Back to the studio today to play.