Today I mixed up a tiny batch of a pale lime and painted that at the bottom right edge in funky patterns, the upper left edge, middle right, center, and here and there to balance out the bright highlight color. There is only the tiniest bit left. Sigh.
Then I switched to straight Sap Green and went lyrical, using, alternately, a tiny round and my new bright brushes. Joy. Truly. In the center of the painting, there is an overflowing, mounding bush, that I’m creating from the foto, in Sap Green and the older lime green mix. It’s quite MOD. Yay.
After the Sap Green, I went back in with the older lime green mix …
The painting is beginning to develop!
…
We were hit, as forecast, with 15 or so inches of snow overnight, with the VW Bug snugged into the garage, and no where to go today. That being said, I was overwhelmed to see so much snow this morning on walkies and did panic a bit that we were so limited in our ability to go … anywhere. I’m a bit snowbound and not quite liking it, which I was not expecting myself to do. Hmmm. ?
I guess I don’t like being literally helpless. I could have told you that.
Anyway, more snow is expected, and they are not saying how much, because I don’t think they KNOW. I think that’s sort of funny, and sort of scary.
Ouch.
Now, what really matters, in my itty world, such as it is … is that Jason and Karl Straub are to drive up to Port Chester, New York on Saturday am to deliver my eight framed photographs to the gallery there … right? right? So we’re trusting in a) no more snow after today, and b) the excellence of Northeastern and Midatlantic road clearing and maintenance crews between here and there to free up the roads by Saturday am.
Right?
I certainly hope so.
If not, there’s next Saturday.
So, I was reading on Wednesday in the spine surgeon’s waiting room in the Ortega y Gasset book, don’t you know? A few things come to mind from the somewhat hair-splitting reading, you know … I am aware of the chair holding me up but I’m not thinking about the chair … consciousness but not in literal forefront awareness …
… I thought about the observer mind of Buddhist meditation but it didn’t come up AT ALL in the texts … too EARLY …
one thing that was sad to see was the classism, which is odd, coming from a man who wrote Revolt of the Masses … talking about the limitations of the “savage” and the “peasant” in their ability to access metaphysics compared to the “intellectual” — gah
he even said something to the effect of what does the savage know of the body and soul?
I thought of the amazingly simple, or complex, but profound teachings and spiritual systems of all peoples, indigenous, or whatever — i.e., Joseph Campbell’s Power of Mythology … you know — much more progressively seeing the wonder of the thing — the magic of mankind’s ability to see his/her beingness/knowingness from many perspectives, intelligently as possibly from the ground. We all do our best with what we’ve got, and we do damned good!
So I do take affront at the use of the down-putting terms of savage and peasant. It’s just not fair.
And he addresses all of the students as gentlemen, which I’m sure was the case. Thankfully, again, I went to a women’s college and was blessed with a college education, right?
He teaches also about being in the now, and that the future is something that we are constantly determining by our own free choices. Ostensibly. In a free world. Worlds. Mini-worlds, eh? But I do believe we create our paths. We are given our sets of lessons, our denominators and we go forth to create the journeys from our puzzles, our mazes.
That’s what it feels like, anyway.
He says nothing is predetermined.
I bet he caught hell for that. (sic)
I am on the fence. On the one hand, I hate (!) gambling with a passion. On the other I think we only live once and we make the best of this life. If life is predetermined, and I have more than one life, and I take some sort of gamble by treating this life as the only one? I’m doing my best. I think that is the best bet. (sic)
Also, in terms of betting, I invest in art, music and novels. Those are all bad moneymakers, from what I’ve learned, but I’m a romantic, so that doesn’t count. Heh.
Time to walk Chipper, who stares at me from the hallway with dire intent … Namaste 🙂
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