It’s winter now. The woodstove is sustaining life in the comfort zone. Bloging in the winter, sitting in the cabin late on a Saturday night. What’s a man nearly fifty an artist with no wife or family doing? Neither dog nor cat, is he lonely? Not really. Isolated? No, just having a solo experience. Some how or for some why I think this is good for me, that living like this is bringing me closer to God or the oneness I have been seeking longer than I’ve known I’ve been on a search. Tonight I feel as though I am in love, I have that teary, deep tender well in my heart, it feels like an opening. To who or what I wonder? The cold walk in the woods today found me with a smile that came from no thought, just the beauty of trees light shadow and color. I feel sad and tremendous gratitude at the same time. The sadness dose not have a reason behind it and the gratitude is coming from the same place. I have such gratitude to be and such sadness in my being.
Days go by between writings and all seems to change or at least shape shift in the perception of this so-called reality. I find my self again contemplating what this art that comes through me may actually be about. I am not a schooled artist so art speak is not my way of conveying what maybe the underlying motive. I am here deep in a nature preserve the world has not discovered / destroyed this little heaven on earth. I can still get lost walking from the studio back to the cabin in the dark. The dark so black I can only feel my way, the last tenant almost died one night lost in the blizzard disoriented and if not for his dog probably would have froze to his death that night. Different then I grew up in the milds of southern California, abundant streetlights, only the brightest of stars to be seen and most people searching for them on the movie and TV screens. Light, we are like moths always looking for the light, whether above or within and these days mostly in or on a screen. Like the shape of the earth, it was once said to be flat, we proved it to be round-ish and now it’s flat once again, safe and flat on that light filled screen.
So what is it I am doing here? Searching for meaning, reconnecting to my primal source of being. Finding something old and connected in the wilds of nature. I haul home rocks and branches, leaves and bark, the treasures of the woods, only there it is compost, the most precious material next to life. It’s all life and death out there, which constantly reminds me it’s all life and death in here as well.