Absorbing

Yesterday was an interesting day. We took our niece to Moab for some hikes and warmth. Our first stop was Moonglow Canyon. It is along the Colorado River, and recedes from the road into a magical canyon. The Anasazi once did ceremonies here as is evidenced by the beautiful art at the opening.

I don't know why I do this, but sometimes when I go into places such as this, I go deep into an altered state. I am mesmerized by the Spirit of the land, I can feel the ceremonies of days gone by, and everywhere I look, I see art....Great Mystery painting Her/His Soul upon the heart of the Earth Mother.

I become silent and wander off by myself as I gaze into all of these paintings....patterns in the soil, brushstrokes through the rocks, light and water dancing with one another, and yesterday I saw the remnants of Fall touching the newness of Spring.

I can feel myself walking in the tracks of the Ancient Ones, and yesterday I heard their whispers. We think they are gone, but no they are still with us; guiding us if we open our hearts to them.

Yesterday I deeply pondered the direction of my art, and They kept showing me the possibilities.

Then as if to snap me out of it, we went for a hike up to Delicate Arch in Arches National Park. The winds were stong, and the sand blasted my skin clean until it was raw and stung in my sweat. I wanted to turn back, but I was determined to make it up the hill.

Inching along a narrow rock path cut into the side of a cliff, I had no idea what was waiting for me out in the open. 60mph winds nearly blew me off the cliff. I instantly was snapped out of the altered reality of Moonglow back into the natural instinct of life. I crouched down and took some pictures, because darnit all I climbed up that rock! I stood up again, and I felt like the wind was actually lifting me up off the ground. A woman grabbed me, and I crouched back down. I was done. I was fully back in my body, and I wanted off that rock! I told Bill I was leaving, and I descended like a bat out of hell.

The entire day was a journey through so many realms of existence that somehow will find their way into my artwork and life....I am so grateful for it all...

Natural Abstraction Yet Form

I hike all over the place here in Western Colorado and Eastern Utah. I have a husband who loves to stop the car and jump out as do I. We have found some really interesting spots around here, and while he is off looking for who knows what, I am always studying patterns.

I love to look at the ice especially around Moab. The patterns that form in conjunction with the red rocks are amazing. They always take my breath away. I love to watch how the snow here in Western Colorado sparkles in the sunlight and turns into shades of blue and purples in the shade forming these gently curving patterns of color. I love to look at the rocks that have been carved by the river...with all of their interesting colors and shapes...the patterns that the water forms.

This weekend I stumbled across an old tree that fell long ago protruding through the hardened ice of spring. Upon it were the most interesting designs carved by ice, snow, rain, wind and sun...I was mesmerized, and while Bill was off playing in the river, I knelt beside it in awe. It was beautiful. It was amazing...it was a stunning piece of artwork carved by nature, carved by Spirit...carved by the beauty of the seasons. As artists, we have struggled for so long to obliterate form, to move away from it and plunge into the void of abstraction and freedom. However, as I gazed at this old tree, I realized that abstraction exists within form....they exist side by side and there is no need to obliterate one to find the other.

Humans are a species of absolutes; rarely do we allow ourselves to enjoy the wonder of the Paradox. My elder once told me that whenever I found a Paradox, I found a truth. I do believe this, and I believe this old tree taught me a Paradox today..... abstraction and form....no need to separate...enjoy and celebrate the uniqueness in which both can be expressed.

Spring and the River

I have lived here for almost 16 years. The longest I have stayed anywhere, and a lot of that has to do with the San Miguel River. It is my heaven on earth, and whenever I try to leave it, I feel it calling me back.

The river has taught me more about light and shadow and how forms are created through the two more than any art class ever has. A simple rock never looks the same throughout the day or the seasons, it is always changing. It may stay in the same spot, but light, weather, water, shadows always and forever are painting new ways of looking at the same object reminding us that nothing ever stays the same.

I have sat along the river and watched the seasons pass for several years...I've watched the ice melt and fall into the river, sap rise within the trees, leaves emerge, grass turning to green as flowers bloom in abundance while the river roars from the snow that the mountains finally let go of as they embrace Spring. Of course all of the animals are migrating...some passing through, some staying and some leaving until next winter....and then summer comes and the leaves change from that emerald green to a deep, lush green...the birds of summer are here as the chirping of the beautiful hummingbirds dance through the forests...the river is calmer, and the water warms...then Fall comes with the sap descending and the leaves change to yellows and oranges and reds...the grass becomes brown, and the river slows as the warmth begins to fade...the water becomes chilly, and the migrations have begun...and then winter blows in with a cold arctic wind, flakes fall from the sky, and all of life hibernates even if they are still roaming...ice forms along the river creating thick bridges, and everything seems to be at rest waiting for those first warm winds of Spring.

I have learned more about art simply observing all of these changes...noticing the colors as they shift and grow and fade...how light plays with all of life...and the shadows remind us of the mysteries. I have learned more about myself and my relation to this world simply by sitting underneath my favorite pine tree and listening and watching. I am so grateful to have found this place....I don't know if I will ever paint it; this area hasn't asked me to or visited me in my dreams as a painting yet....

Maybe one day when it feels I have learned what I need to learn....

Happy Spring Equinox to everyone...yes, this is early, but I don't want to be late...enjoy, go out into Nature and celebrate the beauty that surrounds you by simply sitting, listening and watching....