REBUS

​​This rebus—slip and stubbornness,
bottom of river, my own consumed life--
when will I learn to read it
plainly, slowly, uncolored by hope or desire?   
Not to understand it, only to see.

As water given sugar sweetens, given salt grows salty,   
we become our choices.
Each yes, each no continues,
this one a ladder, that one an anvil or cup.

The ladder leans into its darkness.   
The anvil leans into its silence.   
The cup sits empty.

How can I enter this question the clay has asked?

from Rebus by Jane Hirschfield

"Rebus" - acrylic and charcoal on cradled wood panel, 24" x 18" x 1.5"..  Ready to hang (sides are painted; no need to frame.  Hanging wire is attached). Available here and at Artfinder.

We become our choices.

There is an inclination to philosophize while hiking.  To untangle the experience of life and reframe it in the expansive view of sky and sea and soil.  And there it is easy to look back at a life and say - yes, this.  I became my choices.  And I still become my choices.  Except now, sometimes, if I am listening well, the choice becomes obvious - the moon full, information revealed, choice easy.  I choose. I become.  Slip and stubbornness give way to slide and surrender.  I become.

​About the art:  beginning with a photo from a recent hike at Nehalem Spit, run through the Notanizer app to provide a basic composition.  Drawing with three colors of charcoal and then blending with a wet brush and titanium white and buff.  Adding some darks with acrylic paint.  The video jumps off from here - paper towel, rubber wedge, squeegee, water sprayer, big fluffy brush, regular brushes and fingers.  Resisting the urge to overly define while trying to soften edges and create movement.  Falling in love with the sea.