Summer in Tennessee starts with the appearance of sweet little sparks of light known as fireflies. At dusk they begin to rise from the grass, always going up. Trying to see one is like trying to see a shooting star, their flash of fluorescence is so frustratingly brief. My eyes strain to find and follow the track of flight so I can linger on the little bugger's light show. And, still, too quick to really take it in.
Beauty is like that, too. So often it flashes and vanishes before we know what's happening. Even with great focus and concentration, the most we can hope for is the memory of the florescence. Cameras help. snapping the moment into a frame that reminds us of the feelings, of the day.
When I paint, I also am trying to capture the feeling, the moment….when we turned a corner in Venice and were awestruck with the sight: (photo on left, painting in progress on right)
Beauty is like that, too. So often it flashes and vanishes before we know what's happening. Even with great focus and concentration, the most we can hope for is the memory of the florescence. Cameras help. snapping the moment into a frame that reminds us of the feelings, of the day.
When I paint, I also am trying to capture the feeling, the moment….when we turned a corner in Venice and were awestruck with the sight: (photo on left, painting in progress on right)
Learning how to create beauty with oil and brush, perseverance and faith, time and commitment has the same characteristics as the lovely insignificance of the tiny, Tennessee lightning bug.
