Sun sends you spilling
over lush and lofty terrain.
Tis true fair weather sends feet flying.
When grey slips sun from sky,
come you again seeking shelter
just yesterday labeled a prison.
The change in weather changes mind,
transforms heaven to hell
makes demon of angel.
Some time when you retread ground
previously abandoned in joy
find you might a closed door.
Spring awakens sun from slumber
lifting the gauzy grey filter of light.
Now, drenched in full bright beams
forgotten are the blank listless days
that occupied the past season.
Mood rises with the sun
and still hangs high after dark
because the skin retains warmth
well into the cool clear night
removing remnants of a horrible winter.
Quick distance from throat to shoes.
A wayward heart wanders.
Spikes and peters with every
indication, positive or negative,
of yours in return for mine.
These valleys and throughs extreme, dizzy.
Yet, not jarring enough to shake
a thought~now an obsession~
from a stubborn mind.
Holding fast, it soars
in bright blue potential and
drowns in inky waves of doubt.
Hope and recrimination cycle
like moon and sun. In turn,
lighting and obscuring a path
you’re not even sure you should be on.
Wet round eyes precipitate the change
turns hardened surface porous,
open to all that may fall from above
as a blessing, a hope, glorious.
No grey to tinge new growth.
Just transformed to soil from shell
by the turbulance of slow-rolling storm.
A change longer lasting than thunderhead’s swell.
A new season stirs
and soon stretches
To touch the awaiting tree tops
to ooze over drifting clouds
and fall flat on the fields.
A newness seeps into every niche.
Yet, to nothing yields you.
The old reasons remain
and ride rough over
The courage that causes change
that banishes a will to break norm
and shifts a stoic heart.
Surrounded by potential for all
you stall on the worn path.
8 x 10 watercolor
This cold weather has me thinking of the Big Island…long sunsets, beautiful forests, and glistening lava.
Abstract water color
Whenever you look at an object, we observe the sum of its layers, its components. Though our eyes only register the surface, our minds understand that there is much more below. How far can we break down solid objects? What is the smallest increment we can perceive? Do you feel atoms?
I found this subject interesting to paint because there is a cosmos of activity under the surface of things that we can’t perceive. The above was inspired by images of pollen under an electron microscope. Its magnification revealed massive caverns and complex textures that I would not normally associate with the tiny spores that affect my allergies.