Awhile ago, I bought a book about Georgia O’Keeffe. It is the catalog from a show that coincided with the publication of some of her letters.
I’m struck by how much I can identify with her thoughts, and how it helps me identify more deeply with the artwork that she created. She seems to have had as much desire and as much awkwardness putting things into words as I, though she had much more prowess with a brush.
She puts in tangents about making a dress or repairing her stockings. Skills that were once universal.
On the other hand, I make notes about these drawings as though they were my side work.
This drawing is based on the photo and the remembered observations of my hand as the sun set yesterday. In part it is blurred because I wanted it to be. Right now the works of my hands are unclear to me. There are splashes of generosity and goodness emanating both to and from my endeavors, but it is hard for me to discern where the present actions are going or if they are leading me in the right direction.
Where-ever you go, there you are. There are moments of beauty, and feelings of pain during any epoch of a life. It is a matter of finding purpose in each of them, growing, and learning. Even at some of the worst moments in the last epoch, there have been beautiful things to observe. The smell of eucalyptus, the crunch of cold snow.
May you [I? we?] find the grace to breathe in those moments and breathe out the pain and confusion. May each step lead to finding more beauty.