Tuesday, July 30, 2013

No Passing Zone

There was a gigantic bullfrog sharing the cold spring pool with me. He looked as massive as my foot, resting in a crouch at the edge, with his legs folded under him. I stood in the water knee deep; the ripples in the pond threw concentric reflections onto the maple tree's trunk, like a thread beaded with upturned crescents, waving down the trunk as though it were swallowing many moons.
I remain preoccupied with the conundrum of time. Now we are upon the last day of July and I'm already nostalgiac for the passing of this summer - I'm seeing the change in the light, and hearing the cicadas in the mornings. My projected "most productive summer since" has had a mind of its own. I have made some new work and have not had to destroy anything yet; I've also done some work on my studio storage. I've worked on my poetry a little (less than I'd meant to), and some music (less than in the performance season). I know that I'm trying to cover too much ground but I also know how lucky I am, to have this particular way of "failing."
Newly organized storage space in my Lambertville, NJ studio
It's something very small, but I knew what I wanted to do to bring this painting to its completion; then when I went to do it, the becoming became something else. A small intervention on what looks like a small painting --  A painting is like a life: sometimes appearing in a form that can take one by surprise. A monumental image can be no larger than a book you can hold in your hand.
I painted today. I continued with a few, I finished a couple, I took photos. I need to be preparing my new surfaces, I need to buy more supplies. I feel driven to be more dense in my productivity; I'm still getting used to having that option again after so long. I think about what must be left undone, in order to do what must be. I consider what to eliminate.
It has been suggested to me that I might decide my life is already going according to my plans.
 ©2013 Ravenna Taylor, "Speaking In Tongues," oil on linen over wood, with fabric, 7 x 6-7/8 inches


  1. From the evidence of your new painting, your life is definitely going according to plan: it's beautiful and fascinating. I too feel as though time is rushing by, and I've got too many things going at once, but I have to take a deep breath, relax, and accept what I am able to do. (now if I can just take my own advice!)

    1. Thanks, Altoon - yes, knowing and living are not one and the same, are they? How fortunate we are, too, to have many interests and abilities to enjoy! I've known bored people and they are sad ~ I am grateful. Thank you for the kind comments about my paintings!


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