I don’t know what to write about. I am not sure what to paint. When I feel this way I just admit it and sit here… And wait. OK, what am I feeling? There must be something? I feel emptiness. Openness perhaps. Surely that feels better than emptiness.
What feels open?
When I think of open I think of a sky. A perfectly clear, blue sky with a steady breeze. And the temperature would be that perfect one.
I remember laying in the sand many years ago on the top of a sand dune in Cabo San Lucas. I had just swam a long way in the ocean. My body was tired and I was still wet. The sun felt amazing as did the warm sand beneath my towel. And then a breeze picked up. The wind was about 74 degrees. It was not cool at all but it was not hot either. It felt like a thousand kind touches across my skin. There were flowering pale yellow cactus’ covering the hills that perfumed the air with a delicate sweetness. I lay with my eyes closed and was engulfed in such an overwhelming sense of well being. Joy actually. I felt so absolutely content, so utterly happy, that I never forgot that moment. I am reminded of the confluence of those perfect conditions whenever a wind or breeze brushes across my face and I recognize that force, that perfect temperature.
It reminds me that the possibility for absolute contentedness is just waiting right below the surface of things. Always… Joy doggedly follows us around until we notice it, we might not, but it is always there.
Openness can come out of emptiness. A blue sky with such a perfect breeze can come from the small space of not knowing. And from that, a painting can be started. A painting that I am almost certain will be mostly blue.
What reminds you that you are alive and ready to create?
P.S. Please share your thoughts in the comments below.