Watercolour painting of an elephant 23 February 2025
Aquarelle painting of an elephant by me
As I said yesterday I would try the watercolours this Sunday, I decided to go ahead and change the subject, choosing an elephant instead of a woman. The sky was overcast so I did not have a problem staying in with my paint. I kept trying to make sense of how the strokes appeared and getting annoyed with the blending as I had clearly lost my knack for it and so abandoned totally the idea of painting alla prima. I chose instead to paint each colour separate from the other with just a few blending strokes here and there. I hope you like it all the same.
I am leaving you with another wonderful song “day after day” by this lovely young lady called Elyanna.
Petals multiply
In intervals of breathing
exhaling essence
My heart reaches out
seeking out the knowing mind
hidden in the eye
With careful fingers
I unveil the flower’s core
Myriads of colours
There are silent trees
tall yet minute they resume
growing in my heart
Winding through mazes
they teach me the wise lessons
of imbued stillness
We wait together
for the peace that was revealed
in branches of light
Reading of the poem:
The Valley of Dreams - Stive Morgan
Written in the context of Ronovan writes weekly haiku challenge using the words “wait”, “wise” and their synonyms. For more information on the challenge and other artists’ work, please read here
She wove conscientiously the points keeping in mind most of the time the greatest good of all. She knew that some of what she wove would not be witnessed in her time but in eons to come. Other parts of what she wove were for immediate results or results on the short or medium term. In the beginning it had been disappointing that the desires she had did not have an immediate resolution but she had learnt to accept this. She looked upon her task as a humanitarian one as she was weaving a better consciousness. She wondered how many out there were like her weaving a better series of connections into the collective consciousness.
Sometimes, her old shadows returned and she would need to stop the weaving during those days. That could mean no weaving for several days in a row. She always wondered whether her consciousness would still be connected so closely with the collective consciousness to affect it in a significant way or if these days of absence would have weakened the contact. Every time she had such doubts they were dispelled immediately when she returned to weave for the greatest good of all and saw the almost immediate results. She wondered how she could cope with her shadow selves to bring them out to the light and no longer have to sit in between all the time. This would allow her to keep weaving every day instead of having to make a pause.
One day she caught herself talking to one of her shadow selves that had strayed into the room. It was no longer lurking behind her as they always tended to do when they manifested, watching her, thinking she was unaware of their presence or pretending they thought that. She normally would only observe them and try to fill them with light but they would take cover, literally and refuse to be dissolved most of the time although she had been able to lighten a couple of them. Today however, she decided to talk to the one who had unwittingly strayed into the room.
Why do you need to provoke the advent of darkness, she said
Because that is what we are made of, she answered
But you are me and if you are me, you cannot be made of darkness for I am light
There is no light without darkness so therefore if you are light, we have to be darkness
Will you always exist? Is there no end to some of you?
Who knows? You have taken such liberty with the self that there is so much light. We have kept some to ourselves. It is our bubbles of liberty where we choose to express the colours grey and black. Are they not colours too? Why refuse them? Surely as an artist you should know that a palette must be complete? How would you paint the night without us? Or the ravens or the dark clouds if not for those colours?
She thought to herself that she must be right. She should perhaps leave them these bubbles of liberty.
You must be logged in to post a comment.