New tulips, new petals, new beginnings. I was not planning on taking more tulip photos today, but I saw that new leaf, that delicate little twirl, and I couldn't resist. But then I started to feel a little sad. That lovely little leaf has yet to unfurl, and the flower will not last much longer. Not much longer at all. But I tucked that thought away, and I focused on the little leaf. Because it is beautiful now. Because unfurl it will, and it will bloom and it will be beautiful and it will stretch towards the sunlight in the window like everything is just beginning. Time is slipping away. But I'm going to ignore that. Ignore time. Focus on beginnings. And keep unfurling.
This is a page in the first art journal I'm going to finish completely and I’m happy about it; I have more empty "art
journals" than full ones because I find it hard to get started in one. It
is difficult to make that first mark in a book, rather than on a page that can
be easily discarded. Going by all the
videos out there on how to get started in an art journal, I know that I’m not
alone in this – but knowing that doesn’t seem to make it easier – maybe just
less lonely. I also posted the picture of the journal page on Facebook, which
should not seem like a hurdle, but it is. Facebook is all your “friends”, right?
What should be difficult about sharing something with your friends,
something you’ve created? For some
reason though, it is difficult. It isn’t easy to share something. A small thing like a ‘like’, never mind a
positive comment, makes us relax a bit. Validated. I’d sworn that I
wasn’t going to share photos or art on Facebook anymore but, today, I was just
so darn happy with my journal page. So I decided to share it anyway, simply
because it does make me happy. Likes or
no likes, I like – and I like that.
I think of the North. What it represents to me. Here in the city, when I see the leaves
starting to turn, I see the North. When conditions are right and the air is
cool and crisp, I smell the North.When
people on the street smile and make a brief connection when passing, I feel the
North.I don’t have to be there.I don’t have to be in the physical space that
is the North.Even though I love that
space.I’m here.And I can find the North here.I think of the North and it sets me free.
I’m a saver. Pick up something
new & it’ll sit for a while before I wear/use it. Find that special piece that I just know
would look good in my art journal but – it is stored away. Rainy day, rainy day, keep it for a rainy
day. So would I use those 3 wishes?
Would I make everything right; would I ask for more time; would I save the
world? Or would I wait. Because that
would be me. That would be something I’d do. Perhaps my first wish should be
not to be me. But then my wishes still wouldn’t be wished. So I have to stay me
and hold onto my three. Save them for that rainy day. And who knows, maybe that
day is today. I wish I knew.
Recognizing patterns & themes in your life can be
interesting, and sometimes a little scary too.I’m thinking today about ‘sight'.
I have an Aunt who has not been able to see for quite some
time.She lives alone, far away from us,
so that is a worry.More recently, I
have an Uncle who is losing his sight.He also lives far away from us.Each are “out of sight”, one
might say.Each one is from a different
side of the family; genetics covered.
This weekend I experienced a problem with one of my eyes. A
trip to the optometrist tells me that what is happening is common for people
over 50. However, due to my symptoms,
over the next month or so I am at risk of vision loss.
As someone who takes photographs and creates art – my
passion is related to how I see the world.This blog is where I write about how I see the world.
I did not think until this weekend that I would suddenly be concerned
about how I literally “see” the world.Troubling.And then I randomly
stumble upon a video, from Quebec Tourism of all places, about the spectacular
trip of a blind tourist.Well.If that doesn’t take the cake.Just when I’m worrying about vision loss (in ONE eye) I see this guy who can't see enjoying all the “sights” with such
joy.Google it – it is fabulous.And it just goes to show that life really is
how you see it – whether you can, or whether you can’t.
January is here, looking at
us sharply, with dark, steely eyes, and a cold so cold it’s hot on our
skin. What can we do, except look back at
it defiantly, finding a warm edge to that hardened gaze, glinting with promises
of once-in-awhile sunshine and better things to come. January is here.