After our weekend at the Rollo Bay Fiddle Festival, we took another “downtime” day at our cottage. I promised myself that I would open up my watercolors and do a bit of painting. Art helps me stop and really look at light and shadow, at color and movement. I lugged my chair out to what we called “The Point” and began.
Whenever I paint or draw, my inner critic is at the ready. I told myself, this is for me, no one else. I swirled my paintbrush in a teacup of water. Dabbed into a blue and then a bit of red. Not quite right? Dilute the color a bit. Absorb the previous attempt with a paper towel. See? No big deal. This is for me.
Painting is more meditative than taking a photo. I really look at the shape of the shadows, and how the sunlight plays on the grasses. I notice the variation of color among the wildflowers. I watch the sea breeze lift the spruce boughs.
Journaling is another way to pause and capture, especially emotion. Here is an excerpt from Lucy Maud Montgomery’s journal, written when she was 17 years old. In this entry, she shares her emotional response to the natural world.
A glorious day this-mild and sunny; moreover it has been one of those rare ones when everything goes exactly right and life seems bright and serene. This morning I took a walk through the woods down to the spring-the loveliest spot. Oh, it was all so beautiful! The calm fresh loveliness of the woods seemed to enter into my very spirit with voiceless harmony-the harmony of clear blue skies, mossy trees and gleaming snow. All the little fears and chafings shrank into nothing and vanished. Standing there beneath that endless blue dome, deep with the breathing of universal space, I felt as if the worlds had a claim on my love-as if there were nothing of good I could not assimilate-no noble thought I could not re-echo. I put my arm around a lichened old spruce and laid my cheek against its rough side-it seemed like an old friend.
Lucy Maud Montgomery, The Complete Journals of L.M. Montgomery, The PEI Years, 1889-1900, entry dated March 16, 1892.
Lucy Maud Montgomery is speaking to my heart. My home is on a wooded hillside in Massachusetts. After spending hours with my face in a computer screen, I am grateful for the chance to rest my eyes on acres of green. Our time on the Island gave us an opportunity to gaze at the endless blue dome of the sky (not as visible in the woods) and vastness of the deep blue sea.
My little painting of the Cape Bear Lighthouse.