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