Recently I was on O’ahu for minor surgery. That little trip opened the doors for the return of my urge to paint – something that hasn’t been there for 10 years or more. Needless to say it feels very strange, and a bit like the myth of Persephone coming out from the underworld. I have memories of how to paint, but the actual process seems all new. I know I cannot paint in the way I used to – representational art of landscapes, still life’s and portraits. I no longer have the focus or inner discipline for that. Now, it is freeform with lots of fingers and whatever tools are to hand. No formulas, no structure, no color schemes. It is more like lying down codes of shapes, symbols and colors to find the essential in the seeming form.
The other day I had a memory of buttercups, those little bright yellow flowers that grow wild in fields in Pennsylvania in the summers. I felt the absolute delight of the “then moment” of the 6 year old wonder at the intricacy of the yellow universe. The “then moment” was also the now moment for that moment. A nice visit.