I always imagine that if I ever do return to painting — which I did briefly for about a year after husband Jeff died — I would love to do a series on seeds. Each painting the glory of a single seed, up close and personal, its kinetic energy of aliveness pregnant with promise.
Here’s a photographer doing the same thing. Thanks, Brie, for noticing it!
Who’s to say that nature isn’t intensely, provocatively, extravagently creative? Who’s to say that she doesn’t continuously demonstrate for us so very much more than we are capable of imagining? And yet, who’s to say that we are not part of nature, and thus of her creative process? What an honor, to feel one’s own being as a consciously aware node inside the immensely mysterious complexity of the living universe!
I spoke with another old crone friend by phone yesterday, after many years. She tells me she just retired a year and a half ago, from a work life where, as she put it, “You know, I was always in survival mode.” Yes, I would say that’s true.
“And it’s working, it’s working!” she continues. “I don’t have much money, but it’s working.” So happy for her.
An artist by nature, Laury now leads a life of quiet contemplation, with a tiny garden, and creating one piece of art daily in a journal, pieces that she calls “portraits of the psyche.” Unfortunately, at this point, she wants to keep them private. But she did promise to email me one or two. So grateful!
We present on Hildegard’s World View at a downtown Seattle church hall this evening. Three of us, showing slides and talking freely, invoking in the audience something of how each of us have been variously infected by her astonishing capacity to fearlessly and continuously express the unitary love of the universe in myriads of ways — music, healing, horticulture, visions with commentary, theology, counseling and preaching to pope and prince and peasant. Nothing was too big or too small to command her precise, unwavering attention.
I’m currently staying with brother-in-law John Cowan in north Seattle, where he has created a beautiful contemplative garden inside the high wooden fences that separate properties from one another in this part of the world. Of course, I always imagine ripping out the fences! Or at least putting gates from one to the other, so that neighbors can move freely within the beauty of each other’s expressions. Ahhh, let’s take it further. Imagine one specializing in chickens, another in fruit trees, yet another in annual vegetables, on and on, with shared tools and winding paths between and plenty of enclosed little spaces for personal and companionate contemplation. Who’s to say that we won’t finally see the benefits of community? Who’s to say that we won’t, at last, let down our guards, and join together for security?