Not black and white

I am an artist—an award winning artist. Oils, acrylic, watercolor, mixed media—in fact contrary to my daughter Maggie’s belief “ YOU CAN PAINT almost ANYTHING!” I see life in color and light—ok you say, so does everyone. For an artist it just isn’t the same. I see the color, the hues, the shading, the dullness and the brightness. The trees are not just green. That assumption to an artist isn’t the truth. Like a camera my mind clicks images. Registering them at a very fast pace. Sometimes leaving that snap shot stored for future retrieval.

How many times do we all loose things? For me— CONSTANTLY! Depending on my focus, I can many times close my eyes and see where I last saw the object. To me, it is the color snap shot. I’ve stored the arrangement of the colors so that when brought back by my minds eye it is the color that saves it in shapes and volume or depth. Not merely memory.

I look at all there is to see in life and marvel at its wonder. Today I watched the broom sage blow and bow to the wind. Golden reeds —brilliant tips, Amber shafts, and earthy anchored bases. This time a memory is triggered along with a quiet reminiscent smile.

Zeke (you remember Zeke—first love, first boyfriend) was exploring original—hand made living—kinda like before prefabricated. I was paying attention. One afternoon he and I made BROOMS! Notably there may have been others involved, but my focus was on Zeke, so no one else seemed relevant. Either way we collected broom sage, a few nails, a some what straight tree limb and some twine. I wish I could draw this out—but I’ll catch you up later with a picture or two as I aim to make another one soon. So anyway at what would be the base of the broom we drove the nails off set a couple of inches apart and gathered the broom sage around. Then took the twine and wrapped it tight around the wood letting the nails keep it secure. 40 years later Zeke reminds me that we cut the broom sage at the wrong time of year—too soon and the feathery tufts that are released to help it spread are shedding from your broom🤦‍♀️

Either way —my mother thought enough of the broom to keep in the corner of the kitchen not for years —but decades!☺️