Could it really be the first of July today? Tuesday, July 1st? Already half way through the year? Despite my feelings of disbelief it is true. The days and months and seasons are flying fast in a blink (or two) of the eye. It was only a month ago I was contemplating a very busy month of assessments, work and exams. Two months ago I was feeding my appetite for printing and sewing bags. Three months ago I had my birthday and entered by last year of being a "-teen". Four months ago I was winding my way through a country of olives and wonderful dancing; not wanting to leave and fly back home alone. Five months ago I was in a far-off distant land where the streets were paved with ancient tiles and the echoes of prayer - of giggling children, and of course, of donkeys, pots, and every kind of enthusiastic merchant known to man. Six months ago I was here. I welcomed in the new year with an early morning visit to the ocean. I wrote down some resolutions too. Some of which I've done; others I still need to make time for. At this half way point I have been doing a great deal of reflecting on being an artist and having faith and just being in general. I've been slowly working my way through Madeleine L'Engle's "Walking on Water" which are her very humble and honest meditations on art and its relation to faith.
I know I am only just beginning my journey as an artist; I am not at art school; nor have I been qualified; my studio is the table on the back verandah, local parks, and my floor; I create out of the love of shaping ideas. I have a lot of unsuccessful ideas; I have others that I love immensely and others don't care for; I sketch and doodle and write because I see the world as whimsical, ever-changing - and my greatest aim is to catch a little bit of that movement; a little slither of the translucency of the sky and stars, of trees and feelings and smiles.
Madeleine concludes that "In art we are once again able to do all the things we have forgotten; we are able to walk on water; we speak to the angels who call us; we move, unfettered, among the stars..."
In many ways I think we are all artists - not always in a visual or literal sense - but in the sense that we all have a responsibility to feed the lake. If art - if capturing, exploring, and remembering the world and all that's in it - was a giant lake; then some of us would flow to it as great rivers flow; some would fall like soft and heavy and violent rain directly upon its surface; but most of us will trickle into it like tiny, gentle streams.
So let us all trickle in our own way,
in whatever we do; with total faith -
what we are all feeding something bigger;
and that seemingly insignificant mark we leave in the sand
is seen and loved and needed.
Thank you for letting me go off on a little rant. I apologise if it has been completely nonsensical but felt I needed to say something in remembrance of the months that have passed; and in anticipation for the future - that bright and unknown thing.