I started the painting in Costa Rica earlier this year.
She came out of the blue there on the mountain top where we were renting our vacation cabin. Mountain river gargling, rocks singing their song, birds, snakes and coyotes. Far up from the jungle of the tropics she came to visit.
On crisp mornings she invited me to play with soft colors,
pastel greens, yellows and blues. In the midday heat, together we brought in
darker hues, layers of wet paint that would dry quickly and create magical shapes
and forms within hours.
The look in her eyes had some sadness that made me curious.
Patiently waiting for greater awareness on the planet her being talked silently
of the song of creation. Allowing
for the space, being with the Earth and all creatures. What if nothing was the
way I thought it was? What can I see that I have not acknowledged I can see?
Perceive with all my senses what I have not been willing or able to perceive?
The story about the shaman who would walk to the beach each
day comes to my memory. He would go to the beach and sit there each day. One
day he noticed the patterns on the water to be different. He was intrigued by
this and came back each day to observe and see what was so different and
unusual. Until one day he would see Columbus’ ship.
What can I not see that is here just because it is so beyond
this reality, so beyond that which I agreed to as being real? Where have we
all blinded ourselves to fit into this reality? What else can I be aware of?
Her eyes showed more Joy in the process. A slight smile came
upon her lips.
Seeing through the jungle. Being with the decay of my
crumbling reality. Taken apart piece by piece the stones of my walls disappear
to open my view to a space so full of life and possibilities … I breathe
deeply, inhaling molecules that make my lungs dance. While my new friend holds
me gently in her gaze, bewildering curls caressing my stretching body.