It was an ordinary Monday. I was on my way to work, grooving to the radio, stopped at a main intersection; Embassy suites on one corner, gas station and car dealerships on the other three corners, fast food in sight, along with other stores and intersections, then as my eyes are set in front of me, a large deer, maybe even a buck, galloped through, trying to find his way back to the hills, which are a ways out. He took quite a departure. My gazed followed him until my view was cut off. When the light turned green, I looked to the right; there was no sign of the deer. He must have kept galloping, hoping to find his way. It was a beautiful sight. I only hope he found safety.
Vincent Van Gogh is my favorite artist. I loved his work from the first moment that I saw it and I don't remember exactly when that was, but it was a long time ago. Besides his use of color, texture, and movement, there's something special about his paintings that is indescribable–
And so because Van Gogh has been on my mind. I pulled a couple of books with his artwork from a box in the garage and made a place for them on a shelf. Over the weekend I yearned to continue reading Dear Theo: The Autobiography of Vincent Van Gogh. But the book that I have is small, the print is small and it's uncomfortable to read. I set out to find it for my Kindle, but no they did not have it. Instead I found The Letters of Vincent Van Gogh, which I sampled, then downloaded for the bargain price of $2.99.
Art has been on my mind. I even thought of taking another drawing course and actually trying to finish it this time. It's patience I need. The irony is I have a lot of patience, just not with certain things. I know that I can teach myself to draw better. It just takes time. It takes practice. It takes self-motivation. I've always thought of myself as self-motivated–and I am to a degree, but then I fizzle away. Right now, I'm looking at a glass of pink and white carnations that I salvaged for another week from the large stems that had gone bad. They remind me of an ice cream sunday. They just need a red carnation on top. I can visualize myself making a sketch of these lovely flowers. Maybe later. I even took a painting class didn't finish that either. At the community college level, the classes are long or they seem long. Two night per week for five months. I've attempted the drawing class twice. The truth is I got bored with it. I made it past the egg study and then I stopped. I don't remember if I've ever made it past that damn egg! Over the years, I've continued to doodle here and there.
I realize that time is escaping me and that's a good thing because I'm journaling my thoughts, I'm enjoying myself, yet I know that I have to cut myself off, so that I can get the day started and be on time to work.
But I'm not done quite yet.
Last week I took a walk around the reservoir and it there is always something new to notice or become aware of...and the beauty of this is that life is like this. Every day we wake up, it seems the same, our routines, our rituals, yet there is always something new that we can find to appreciate in each day, in each drive to work, in each walk around the reservoir. This last time I walked around the reservoir, I heard a flute in a Japanese style. My senses were delighted and I had and image of a flute with flowers and musical notes coming out of the holes. The flute immediately transported me somewhere and to have nature as my backdrop–I was in heaven. There was a bench as I came around the corner and I don't' usually stop, but I wanted to listen to the flute some more and I still didn't see who was playing it. No one was around. As soon as I sat down, the music stopped. I took out my notebook and began writing and then I drew a rough sketch of this flowering flute.
The image here is a very rough sketch I did using the Doodle Buddy App. It reminds me of a drawing I might have done in Kindergarten.