A Day In the Life of a Painter
each morning as the sun rises in the east slowly slides above the mountain
contradicting the idea of gravity floats above the world lights the way
i enter the studio slip into my chair before the computer’s glow
i begin the day gathering words organizing random thoughts
i pick up yesterday’s thread and i follow with this preparation
i am ready to take my place before the easel pathways open
color takes on new meanings i dip my brush into the paint applying paint carefully
at first i am self-conscious aware of each stroke of my inadequacies
i attempt to paint a straight line impossible
make corrections begin again slowly i pick up speed
forget who is painting who is thinking who is seeing
horizons open i become everyone whoever painted
everyone who ever struggled to express themselves i create soul patterns with paint
i hardly notice ideas come and go sometimes I recognize them
as the ones i have been looking for like puzzle pieces they slip into place
i put them carefully into my pocket to be used later i am happy
life is good i pack each day like a picnic basket
full to overflowing i return to the easel knowing my work is important
then forget it i live and i paint
November 14, 2017
2 comments:
A wonderful life, well described. It must feel wonderful to lose oneself in the painting. I admire those who paint. I have no artistic ability, but envy those who do.
I live and I paint....so true. I lose myself in my cooking and writing so I can relate. the week after my mother died, I baked so much stuff that I gave away...But what a beautiful way to express your feelings.
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