The American author Jack Kornfield wrote, “Everything that has a beginning has an ending. Make your peace with that, and all will be well.” I’m not at the end, nor will I know when it is the end, but as one grows old you get a sense that there’s not a lot of productive time remaining, and it’s best not to put off what’s possible in time left.
At the moment I continue to review my past artistic accomplishments attempting to archive as much as possible in the form of publications. It's not at all easy to decide what to put in, and what to leave out, while questioning why your making a record in the first place. After all I'm not famous by any stretch of the imagination. And then I realize that it's just possible that my efforts might hang around for a bit after I'm gone and perhaps, just perhaps, serve as inspiration for something good to come out of my making marks. I'm reminded that good things do happen from making public one's efforts when I pick up various older volumes from my library. One in particular stands out, DRAWINGS OF THE MASTERS authored by Una E. Johnson a curator at the Brooklyn Museum of Art. Una died on May 5th, 1997, but her memory and efforts to educate live on through the publication that she no doubt struggled to put together. And so, I plod on.....
While leafing through one of my sketchbooks I came across some poetry that I wrote years ago when we were exploring and sketching at Tyson Lake near to Killarney, Ontario. I scribbled this one piece in the very early morning while waiting for the sun to rise. I had this habit of getting up very early, while it was still dark, making myself a cup of coffee, then sitting and waiting for the world to wake up.....
Nothing earth shattering, but for those of you who are late sleepers it's a little something to let you know that while you sleep there's a lot taking place out there in nature at dawn's early light.
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Sunrise Tyson Lake Watercolour Painting |
This next piece from the same sketchbook occurred while I was sitting on a rocky outcropping at the edge of Wolf Creek sketching. A Ring-billed Gull swam by, and paused when it saw me. I happened to take note of the fact that it was injured and it struck me as sad that I wasn't able to do anything to help....
Well, back to putting together a book that has morphed into a series of books.....
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