I sat staring out the car window watching Mother Nature wield her paint brush across the sky at sunset last night. Beautiful strokes of crimson, goldenrod, and apricot surrounded by shades of blues. Sunsets...endings I think, beautiful endings to days that often hold truths I don't want to face, yet am forced to.
I wondered if I, like Mother Nature, am capable of painting a new sky? And will it change daily as hers does? What will it look like? What colors will I paint on the canvas that is my future? What pigments will spring forth from my soul?
Will my brush stroke the rough surface with colors bright and hues happy? Or will I seek shades of darkness, painting the heavens desolate and bleak? Will the clouds toil among themselves in playful patterns of ghostly apparitions? Or will there be dark tones of black and grey as if evil is about to burst from the earth's atmosphere?
I am in control of my canvas...I have come to realize that. The shock is gone. The panic has subsided. Decisions have to be made. I have the brush in my hand and the canvas is blank...it is up to me to decide how the finished product will look.
4 comments:
Sometimes an end is also a beginning. Whatever your painting will be, it will be yours.
The power is Yours to make it bright....
A year I ago I wiped the canvas.. and it smeared. It's not as easy to start clean as we might wish.
I've found... for me... that I'm rebuilding the image each day. Some days, the pigments are clear and vibrant, others darker and muddier.
On the whole, the painting is getting better.
Just about every day I find another reason to be happy with my choice.
I hope you do too.
You must paint from your hart.
Only you can show your true colors
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