God willing and the creek don't rise
Come hell or high water
A rising tide lifts all boats
There are a whole lot of watery sayings floating about here in Florida. We had five consecutive days of rain, about fifteen inches in our town alone. The first six feet of our back yard are now in the lake. The mall is closed because the parking lot is flooded. Highway exit ramps are closed due to standing water. The only folks enjoying this watery mess are the ducks. Oh, and anyone who fancies a reason to build an ark.
But here in my little studio, the sound of rain on the skylights and the occasional thunder boomer overhead create the perfect ambiance for a week of play. And for me, play means a return to experimental abstraction and the push and pull of resolving a painting. I am completely lost in the process - in flow. No thoughts of deadlines, task lists or errands to be done. No worries about shows or marketing or bookkeeping. Just one layer after another, teasing me and drawing me down the rabbit hole. My mind, blissfully, closes the door to the outside and just is.
Here is a little process peek at the first three layers:
And speaking of listening, I am reading Mark Nepo's Seven Thousand Ways to Listen. There is a juicy paragraph at the end of this morning's reading which is perfect for this rainy week:
So if you're willing, I may turn to you when stuck or sputtering, to see if I've retreated into that stubborn belief that we're the sole authors of what we need. If you're willing, we can slap each other's sandals till they become dogs that will retrieve the sweetness we've misplaced. If you're willing, we can help each other put the sun back into the sky.