Monday, February 19, 2007

Returning from a Meander in the Wilderness

I haven't posted in ever so long. Seems like I got allergic to blogs and blogging, it became a "should" instead of a "want-to", and from then on nothing happened here. Of course the ensuing silence was punctuated by all kinds of mental and emotional meanderings of various kinds on my part, most of which are too boring and self absorbed to bother you with. But I am immensely grateful and touched by the number of people who have written to me to ask what happened, if I was OK, and telling me that I am missed in the blogosphere. Thank you all for your kindness and encouragement! It has meant a great deal to me. And yes, I am OK.

This posting finds me back in Santa Cruz (where I've been since early January). I got called back to work at the university for the last few weeks (just a part-time stint), and have actually enjoyed being back there working, having some responsibilities, and meeting great people. The best part is knowing that I can walk out the door when I'm done and leave it totally behind. I'm generally solving only one problem at a time (instead of the zillions I had before retirement), and so I can relax, do a good job, and be thankful for the little extra paychecks coming my way.

We've had a lot of art events (for Daniella) in the last few weeks. Many house guests coming and going. Many projects around the house. This past weekend I was given a lovely gift - a weekend painting workshop in Carmel Valley, taught by Lauryn Taylor, working in acrylic paints and doing abstract work. It was very difficult for me, but so much fun. And it definitely felt as if it unplugged some of the creative blockage and mental paralysis I've been feeling lately.

I've felt dragged down by the agony of paying attention to what is happening in the world - the utterly wrong-headed direction of our current government, and the immense human suffering in the wake of the 'great Decider' and his minions. I've been searching for some way to make a difference. I write letters, sign petitions, march in the streets, talk to people, stay informed, try not to consume, ride the bus, stay healthy, keep my eyes and ears open, but deep down I feel alarmingly saddened. I've become more Hobbesian, wondered why I ever though there was a benevolent God, and I go on interior, existential sojourns seeking something to hope for, something to believe in. I guess you could say I've been having a personal spiritual crisis lately. That about sums it up. Now see, I said I wasn't going to go there, but I did. Oh well.....

Anyway, no promises that I will be a regular blogger - but I will be checking in from time to time. Right now I'm going to go sit in the sun, absorb the warmth, and enjoy this beautiful day.

Oh, and yes, these are two of my paintings from the workshop.

8 comments:

robin andrea said...

I'm so glad to see you post again, to read your words, to commiserate with you. Your art is so beautiful, the colors as vibrant as the coming spring. I sense hope in them, and fire. Even the shadows are dancing.

Mary ND said...

So happy you're back! I love your bright, beautiful paintings and your deep, beautiful mind.

Endment said...

Welcome back - You have been missed!

My eyes turned green reading your post... What a wonderful workshop and lovely lovely pictures!

Karina said...

Beautiful paintings - I love them! And I [so!] relate to your inward journey. You are not alone. xoxo

TDharma said...

Glad to see you on these pages again, but you know I've bowed out myself from time to time, and I highly recommend it. When it's not fun anymore, it's not fun anymore. Thanks for highlighting a couple of your lovely works - the bottom one evokes, for me, feelings of walking in beautiful wilderness areas...seeing and smelling the greens and blues.

The Fat Lady Sings said...

I do love those paintings. The colors wash one into the other like wave lines in sand. I used to love watching those lines - how each wave would fall higher or lower; some depositing spume, some carrying seaweed pods that would pop like bubble wrap, some just leaving the faintest of imprints – a delicate line in wet sand. You work brings that to mind - especially that final painting. Salt and sea air. Welcome back, my dear.

Lulu Maude said...

Wow! What gorgeous colors, movement, shape.

Every vacation only enriches us if we're doing something growing, stretching, worthy of our precious time.

Good to see you back. I'm going to DC for the Pentagon rally in March. Got to practice what faith we have, eh?

Anonymous said...

I have missed you, both words and images. I don't know why, but it seems easy to connect here. I hope you are still on the mend, and the spring will bring you an uplifted heart.