It is early morning. Beaumont the Sheepadoodle and I are indulging in our first saunter of the day. Night has slipped into the envelope of eternity that waits at the edge of the far horizon. The sky is pale blue streaked with rose.
The Wolf Moon is high, still visible in night’s lingering caress.
As I walk and Beau sniffs, my mind drifts full of images and thoughts floating. They feel light and buoyant, like the chunks of ice that clog the slow-moving waters of the river below the bridge where I stand to gaze at the moon.
When I come home, I sit down at my computer to write and the words and images that lingered in my mind pour out.
Wolf moon dancing in day's light streaking naked across the sky Darkness slips silently away, its caress as soft as a lover kissing her beloved adieu. Love sighs a glorious prayer of gratitude as earth turns her cheek to welcome the sun's passionate kiss.
A dear friend asked me the other day how creativity seemingly just keeps flowing out of me.
I laughed and replied, “I have no idea…” And then after a moment’s reflection replied, “I just accept its presence. I listen to its flow. I don’t question it or criticize its outpourings. I allow them.”
Which is how yesterday’s #ShePersisted painting happened. By allowing it to appear.
I didn’t know what I was going to paint when I began to create a background in my art journal yesterday. I thought I might paint some botanicals and write about the longing for spring that seems to have arrived early in my heart this year. It’s only the end of January and I’m already dreaming of frost-free mornings and buds popping up under the warmth of the sun’s encouragement.
And that ain’t happenin’ yet!
I live at the edge of Rockies, in the land where the plains meet the undulating foothills. Where sky soars forever, and sometimes, so does winter.
We still have 3 months of indeterminate weather. Cold snaps. Polar Vortices. Arctic chills. They’re all in the wind. All a possibility between now and the May 24th weekend when ‘they’ say it’s safe to once again plant gardens.
Painting botanicals seemed like an antidote to the grey on brown world outside.
The muse has other ideas. My creative flow has its own rhythm.
When the inspiration for the #ShePersisted Series of quotes and images began, I thought it would last… just a little while. 1. 2. Maybe 3 paintings. 12 at the most.
Yesterday’s was No. 65. Somewhere between creating the background and writing out what was on my heart, letting myself fall into the flow of creativity rising up from deep within my belly.
No. 65 – #ShePersisted
They said, why must you keep fighting for more. This is all we can give you right now.
She said, I will never stop fighting for my rights until you stop holding onto the rights that are rightfully mind.
This morning, the quote for No. 66 appeared. I wasn’t expecting it or looking for it, but there it was, streaming out of the thoughts that appeared from the words I felt rising up while I stood on the bridge. I almost did a happy dance when the quote wrote itself out.
And…. here’s a ‘teaser’ – “They said, stop shining so bright. She said, I am made of stardust. I am Star Woman shining bright so you can see in the dark.“
I can already envision the imagery and energy of the piece. I feel the essence of the Star Woman shining.
And that’s the thing about the muse. When we listen, she flows freely. When we allow the force of her flow to draw us out of our comfort zones, we fall with abandon into the waters of creative expression flowing wild and free.