I was after the feeling of a wet, moody overcast day in which one could be happy for no reason. A larger image and the source photo is shown below.
The source photo below was taken on my daily walk, almost at the same point as the image I painted in this post.
…And my aim in my life is to make pictures and drawings, as many and as well as I can; then, at the end of my life, I hope to pass away, looking back with tender regret, thinking, ‘Oh, the pictures I might have made!’ (Vincent Van Gogh in a letter to his brother Theo).
Every day – some days more than others – I have to trust that my paintings, my little efforts, has some meaning. That all the paintings standing around with no home, can still bring the heart home. Trust is needed.
Two excerpts on trust, from poems I know:
For the mind in harmony with the Tao, all selfishness disappears. With not even a trace of self-doubt, you can trust the universe completely. All at once you are free, with nothing left to hold on to. All is brilliant, perfect in its own being. (from The Mind of Absolute Trust, by Sent-Ts'an; from The Enlightened Heart)
Schubertiana ...How much we have to take on trust every minute we live in order not to drop through the earth! Take on trust the snow masses clinging to rocksides over the town. Take on trust the unspoken promises, and the smile of agreement, trust that the telegram does not concern us, and that the sudden ax blow from inside is not coming. Trust the axles we ride on down the thruway among the swarm of steel bees magnified three hundred times. But none of that stuff is really worth the trust we have. The five string instruments say that we can take something else on trust, and they walk with us a bit on the road. As when the lightbulb goes out on the stair, and the hand follows - trusting it - the blind banister rail that finds its way in the dark. Tomas Transtromer (translation Robert Bly), from The Half Finished Heaven. Line breaks here are my own.
Thanks for visiting my blog. I hope you are happy and content.