What makes us pick up a pen or a paintbrush? Is it a need to make a mark, our mark? Hopefully, our marks and ponderings become a process that connect us to something beyond ourselves.
Sometimes, when I invite or allow myself to write or paint, it takes me on a journey that helps me remember the wonders of nature. The afternoon light dancing on poplar leaves or glittering off the bay. Other times, I allow myself to wander and mentally meander, then I try to decipher and describe my travels and cull meaning from them.
When I start to create something, whether a poem or a painting, I often follow an inner compass, a feeling, a sense that helps me know which color to use or which words to choose. I then seek the relationship of one piece to another, be it a series of female figures or a seasonal collection of poems, prose and artwork. It all stops me long enough to calm my mind, focus, and connect to something beyond just tending to the daily tasks of life.
After I create a poem or painting, I often want to share it with others. I hope they find some beauty and joy in it. Perhaps it might elicit an emotion, a longing, or even a hint that we’re all part of something more, something worth stopping for, something miraculous.
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