Friday, March 28, 2014

rain walking

Watercolors and SoulCollage® on the table.
Just as I was making my way out to the coops, it started to rain. The Muscovy hopped out ahead of the roosters delighted with the weather. Crystal made her way around the back to see what she could sniff out of any night time interlopers looking for the all-night chicken buffet as I scooped grain and got water. I kept my head uncovered to feel each drop, an anointing of sorts ~ spring rain. Cold and clear. Perfect for the muddle-headed ennui I was feeling before getting out to feed the flock.

Really, I had a lot to do. Most of it self-imposed having signed on for a lot of online activities. Many I've had the good fortune of winning. (In fact, I've just found out I won entry into 21 Secrets with Connie Hozvicka. I am positively gleeful.) Others, I've been able to afford and didn't require much in the way of materials beyond the purchase of the class. Luckily, I didn't have much paperwork to manage (TGIF, by golly). With all that I'd love to do, it's best to try and focus on things as they nag at me. Jane LeFazio's watercolor course, Watercolor Sketchbook: Designs From Life, is into its second week and I hadn't even done the first week's assignment. Art Journal Caravan is running a little behind at Week #12. (I do so adore Photoshop so much more having signed on for this course.) And then there's all that unspun wool and fiber sitting grumpily in bags awaiting attention.

But it was raining. And that elemental interaction was suddenly a necessity. The Nature Deficit Disorder demanding some re-ordering. Stuff can wait.

I gathered the three eggs I was allowed to gather from the turkey and chicken coop. (When faced with a large, hissing turkey hen brooding, one thinks better of collecting eggs from such a formidable creature. I know when to choose my battles.) Standing up to breathe in the spring air, I set down the buckets, closed the pen and walked to the lake, Crystal leading the way.

Breathe in the clarity, breathe in the rain, breathe in the lake and the mountain. Each breath a prayer.

Coming back home, back to the studio, having scooped grain, carried water and walked in the rain, I make art.

A mum in progress.

The same mum happily completed.

1 comment:

Ashling said...

That mum absolutely glows....