Riverwalk IX

Rain for a week was awful dreary after awhile. But the mornings it broke I would walk down to the river (and to Wawa for a vanilla cappuccino) and contemplate the river. The tide was high, and higher yet with the rain. If the sky had cleared the river reflected blue, so blue, and the endless pattern of the trees that bend down to dance. The trees along the river are alive to me- personable- figurative- alive with movement, twisting and turning. The fishermen are out, I think they may think I'm a little nutty as I just stand there and stare in awe at nature. It's the same old river to them, same old herring, stripers, water to lazily pass the time. I remarked this morning to one that "the river is so pretty" and he looked at me as if to say yea, yea and let me pass without a word, just a strange glance. I noticed one morning how STILL the water was on one side of the bridge- sheltered by tree banks, and swarmed with ripples on the other- open air stirring the water. In just a few feet. Everything is all right when I walk this path, everything clears, and I am at peace. This week I have fallen in love again with this spectacle just two blocks down the street.

Today was sunny. Last night I blissfully slept with a window open. After morning chores I set myself to the task of finishing Riverwalk IX. I thought it would take two days. But I finished quickly, and joyfully. I love what I see, observe, and painted without hesitation.

I showed the image to a friend when finished and he remarked I caught the scene accurately while being there. Not the first time I have received this comment. "Photographs" I said, I don't have my french easel yet. "Well, you captured it"........ I love the compliments as I love the river, it means something to me that at least people are seeing that, so I may think. That there is a passion for what I see.

I read once you must be familiar with your subject. I have walked, pondered, sketched, photographed, pondered again, stared in trance, sat in silence, trudged in snow, touched spring dogwood, breathed, breathed, breathed..........I don't want to stop painting this.

I have paint left. Enough for two little ones. In two days, tomorrow I teach. Sigh.........