Soul in my Work!

Passion is a powerful or compelling feeling, so when one asks, "are you passionate about your work?" I ponder a bit.  Perhaps the more appropriate question should be:  "What am I passionate about?" Simply stated, without letting my tangent personality get the upper hand, I am passionate about life.

At a recent gathering, opportunities to observe and truly listen to conversations, presented themselves.  Amid the chatter, laughter and the tiny but cautionary cries of a baby with an empty stomach, my mind presents me with a question I had contemplated many times but was always able to resist answering.  As I comforted the small infant, slowly rocking him back to sleep, I began descending into anoesis but for only a micro moment.  As if someone had painted a bold brazen scarlet letter upon my chest, the unanswered question that has been very much a thorn in my side, begins parading across my thoughts.  "Is there soul in my work?"

Baby milk now ready for consumption, I return my joyful, sweet smelling, wiggly worm little package to the arms of his waiting mom.  As I settle in for the opening of the wide array of gifts presented to the future Mr. and Mrs., my eyes scan the room.  The happy couple laughing, kissing, surrounded by all those who care deeply, savouring their moment.  It is their day, their gifts, thoughtfully chosen by those closest to them.  My eyes have captured, my brain is recording.  Jokingly I am leaning forward, resting my arms on a walker belonging to the Dad of the future bride.  Just released from the hospital, a tenaciously spirited man, there is a battle of survival raging within him.  Looking deep into his eyes, I see the love and pride for his daughter pouring forth, he, has "soul in his work!"  Daddy is hanging in there!  All around the happy couple, people are laughing, smiling, taking pictures.  Her attendants are....attending.  A break from tradition, she has chosen her closest friend, someone who has, for the last ten plus years, been with her and her family. Someone who seen her triumphs, has encouraged, poked and prodded her and her loved ones through dark times and the happiest of moments, her "Man of Honor." 

As I watch and enjoy the moments happening all around,  my eyes again fix themselves on her Dad. There is a softness in his glaze as he looks at each gift. Although he cannot easily move about, he too is capturing everything. Mom is helping deliver the gifts, Dad is proudly beaming.  As I try to invade his thoughts, he leans towards me."I want to tell you," he softly whispers, "he is the best, my daughter chose wisely, her Man of Honor.  He may be her best friend but he is the best friend everyone should have.  You did a good job Mom, you should be proud!"  As emotions swirled, a gentle calmness settled within, "Thank you,  he is a wonderful young man, with out a doubt I am proud!"  Allowing that warm calmness to invade, I realized, although I do not take myself seriously, I take life itself very seriously, I have been blessed.  There is soul in my work!    

Summer sun and Autumn colors

Pumpkins, gourds, vibrantly colorful mums and dried corn stalks, combined with the unseasonably cool crisp and dry weather, release a flurry of long buried memories.  The southern sunshine still warm, but its angle as it treks across the expanse of this never ending sky, is much lower, the arc smaller, the Autumn season is taking hold.


Before all creatures awaken and as they settle back down burrowing in for the cool nights, familiar scents float across the cool damp evenings, creating an eerie landscape.  Daylight hours warm the rapidly cooling soils and numerous lakes, but once sunshine falls below the horizon, heavy fog forms quickly, racing across the lowlands, creating eery shapes and capturing some of the most pleasing scents that bring back great childhood memories. The pungent smells of the wood burning stoves and campfires used to chase away the evening chill while family and friends gather round the smoking barbecue.  Southern tradition at its best.


Mother Nature's creatures and their human counterparts, hibernate for the summer months, the changing seasons find them emerging from their deep cool burrows and air conditioned homes, to reconnect with her.  As the summer monsoons wane, the cooler sun brings life to the parched grounds.  The multitude of green tropical plants are now being overtaken by the vibrant colors of the fall flowers.  Mums are everywhere with the colors of autumn, yet the delicate pinks, purples and reds of the petunias and other tender annuals are appearing.  They are in stark contrast to the warm and hearty colors of autumn, yet their displays are dazzling. They beckon the return of other creatures, the northern snow bird has begun its annual migration.

A non-hibernating species, they flock to warmth of the south.  Their return is time to reconnect with friends that have survived the exhausting and non-stop battering of sun, heat, rain, more sun and more heat. A confusing time, "how did they manage and not show signs of being battle weary?"  The hearty souls snicker, "we miss you old friends, perhaps as the months pass quickly you will reconsider staying, fighting this battle of tropical sun, moonlit nights, awesome warmth of a star-lit sky and long walks nightly through the warm sands of our miles of beaches.  If the flicker of the tiki lights in the wee hours of the morning bother you, maybe you shouldn't stay, but the haunting calls of the owls and  soothing coo of the doves might persuade you." 

Tonight's gorgeous sunset mimicked the lavenders and pinks of the now flowering petunias.  Yet the deep orange glow and redness of the fiery sunset was such a contrast.  The red sky at night, is a sailor's delight but the colors of the fall season create an artist's palette that stimulate the senses of the battle weary creatures that have "survived"! These southern lands continue to amaze, they are a true picture of just how resilient we all are. We dread the thought of daily never ending sun, yet as clouds move in, we gaze upwards asking for its return.  We seek relief in the coolness of our homes yet take advantage of everything outside.  We golf, swim, walk, spend  lazy afternoons under the canopy of spanish moss laden cypress trees, drinking cool sweet tea.  During the warm and humid evenings we sit outside, light the torches and re-hash daily events. We even wonder if and when the migration of the snow bird will begin. 

 I have learned; those living in the land of the southern sun are a forgiving and God-loving people who enjoy their privacy, yet are willing to share, taking advantage of the solitude provided by the spring migration of the snow bird, yet welcome their return.  As Mother Nature renews her lands, its people renew and rekindle old friendships, beckoning all to return, welcoming them into their hearts and homes.  A hearty people we are!  Bed & breakfast season is upon us!
           

Vacation-Staycation Memories!

Gorgeous Florida weather this week, but because of prior commitments, I did work Thursday. For the most part humidity and I have been on vacation for a good part of the week. Although "I am on vacation", no time for brain drain.

This actually has been a stay-cation with painting having top priority this week.  But my mind has been wondering back to the narrow streets of Paris, wondering if the staircase of flowers still adorns the front steps of the Church of La Madeleine, creating  a vibrant sea of color, the delicate hues of the petunias and dusty miller dancing ever so lightly and carefree, their soft fragrances drifting aloft much like the vapors in the wind, beckoning me to come and sit for just awhile.  Back in my little home the only fragrance awakening my senses is the fresh coat of paint brightening my dining room walls.

As strange as it may sound, my mind had settled on a color long before the process of actually collecting those little color samples began.  Something easy on the mind and spirit, yet able to showcase the colorful collections of glass and paintings. My thoughts again drifting to the free spirited movement of gently swaying branches in the afternoon and early evening breezes.  As I walked along the river Seine, admiring the canopy of trees, the freshness of the evening air invigorating, house boats and barges moored along the stones walls of the river, I imagined that way of life to be so fulfilling and relaxing.  Perhaps this softness and stillness could be brought to me.

Another day, quickly drawing to a close, it has been quite productive,  The majority of what I had hoped to accomplish this week is complete. There is a certain satisfaction in knowing you have reached your goal even if it is only a plateau.  Of course there is much more that need to be done, but realistically I would like to return to work at least feeling somewhat relaxed.  With thoughts of France still frequently drifting through my mind, I wonder: The magnificent murals, delicate paintings, perfectly sculpted statues, ornately painted ceilings and yes my beloved and adored Mona Lisa, all painted or sculpted by the masters, "Did they ever have sore bones and muscles after a day of painting or chiseling away at stone?" Hmmmm, no Alleve, Advil, Bayer Back and Body tablets for them, they just sucked it up!  So as my inner most voice has repeated calmly and at least a gazillion times over the course of this stay-cation week."stop ya belly aching and just do it!"

Right now as I sit quietly on my comfy love seat, little laptop perched on crossed knees, the vision of the most gorgeous cosmopolitan people, Parisians, once again begin their evening stroll through my thoughts. Are they out and about in this European hub viewing the Eiffel Tower, spectacularly lighting up the darkness of the evening sky.  Perhaps it is the Arc d'Triomphe, a monument to what was, what has happened and the guardian of the Champs-Elysees, Paris' most prestigious avenue, a place where cafes adorn every inch of the overly wide sidewalks, completely lined with the beautiful horse chestnut trees, high end shops, cinemas and fashion houses.  There is a dampness in the air but still the beautiful people mingle!

As I sit here, the subdued colors of the walls create an air of leisure and balance. If paint were not the predominant odor teasing my senses, I might be able to close my eyes, imaging myself back in France, on a cool autumn evening, perhaps engaging in lively conversation while enjoying a glass of wine from the Beaujelais region of France.  If I linger long enough, perhaps the November arrival of Beaujelais Nouveau will tingle my palette.  Just a passing thought!

For now, I will snuggle down on my love seat, enjoying the cool evening breeze drifting though the dining room window.  The weeping willow walls seem to dance with the evening shadows, the sounds of the preserve and the children of Mother Nature ready to emerge for their evening stroll under the starlit tropical Florida sky.  As I emerge from my stay-cation cocoon, the blood returning to the legs which have been tucked neatly beneath me,  I drift in an out of reality, I wonder: Did Leonardo DaVinci ever feel the muscle aches that are now riddling my aching body? Just a thought!