Just to warn you, this is no botany monologue. I mean, I love nature as much as the next guy, but everyone has their limit. My limit is mass quantities of ant colonies in and around my house. This year it's been all-out war. In prior years we've had a general detente, with only a few exceptions: like when I disturb a nest while weeding under the magnolia tree and find my legs and arms covered with panicking ants. But this year the little bastards made their move and built freeways, overpasses, subways and country roads next to and inside the walls of our home. I don't believe in using a lot of chemicals, so did a google search on various homemade deterrents. Yes, I did use a couple of the basic ant & insect home defense type chemicals to start with but moved to non-toxic means for the daily battles. Today I miraculously happened to be by the kitchen sink just in time to see an invasion of at least 50 optimistic ants making their way through a tiny space at the base of the window. (They're dead now) but that's the first lesson to be learned:
- Optimism- a positive and hopeful outlook on the adventure set before you. Don't believe or attach to the negative self-talk or inevitable disappointments. Listen to and notice the feelings and find ways to restate them with more motivating phrases "I've learned hard things before, I can do it again" "this is all part of the process"
| Isn't it great that we are teachable? As I learn to drop my defenses, be humble and open I find that I receive so much more than I ever expected. Here are some more lessons the insignificant but irrepressible ant has taught me: |  |
- Persistence- these ants are nothing if not persistent. Quitting is clearly not in their vocabulary. They carry on. So do we. We keep showing up and that is one of the biggest secrets of people who master their skill. They show up and keep showing up. Sometimes it is the hardest when you've made significant progress in your discipline. You have new and higher expectations of yourself and need to face the humility of growth in a new way.
- Failure- I'm not entirely heartless with these tiny creatures. I know they just want to live and are trying to figure out how and where they best belong, which is NOT under the flashing of my windows or in the brick mortar gaps or in single file lines across my deck. As they, and we, experience failure we actually learn more effectively than we do from books and teachers. Failure activates specific areas of our brain (not sure about ant brains) and creates neuron growth and synapse activity. Our subsequent attempts are often more creative and successful.
- Reconnoiter- have you noticed how there is often only 2 or 3 ants casing the kitchen counter before the insurgence? These are called 'scouts." They are information gatherers and they report windfall discoveries to the troops. It requires courage and curiosity to face down the challenge ahead and seek solutions, solve problems. Taking a nap is so much easier! When I hit a block and the way forward is unclear, I put on my scout cap and start seeking the answer.
I am approaching art and life with these attitudes as this plein air sketch I did in Washington illustrates. It was a cold and windy day so I knew my time was limited. (Optimism) I started with decisions of composition and line, laid in a transparent red oxide wash, wiping away the light areas and defining the major shapes. Because I was shivering and holding my tripod to keep it from blowing over, I sped through the drawing and aimed for getting the shadows and hues down. (Persistence) I had to stop when I couldn't take the climate another minute even though I knew the painting had many issues. (Failure) Later, in the studio, with memory, sketched and photo reference, I returned (Reconnoiter) to the painting and faced the challenge.
 plein air sketch of tractor by pond |  "Stuck in the Mud" 9x12 oil on panel $350 |
