Inspire me

Many different things inspire us to create, sometimes it's what we see, what we smell or what we hear. Other times it's the quiet time we spend on our own drinking a cup of tea, breathing in the aromas and watching the ideas slowly drift up of the steam. Or it's sitting I the corner window of a coffee shop, reading a book or watching people pass by, listening to the chatter of passers by and the business of life happening. Sometimes it's an evening on the beach waiting until the last fingers of the sun have left the sky, or late night conversations about the mysteries of the universe.

Really it's the combination of all of this, taking the chance to live in the moment, to love life and to not let a moment pass by without realising it. It's capturing the essence of the moment and holding it there so others can also see how special it really was.

Breathe in,

Listen, 

Close your eyes.

What is it that makes you want to look again?

Capture that 

Close your eyes

When you close your eyes what colours and shapes do you see? Do you see lines moving together, perhaps in red and blue swirls. Or do you see the static of white noise mixed with other shapes and colours. 

Me? I see a whole lot of different colours, shapes and movement. Usually, if it's a normal day, I see purple and green diamond like shapes moving in and out of eachother, acting as a backdrop for the people and events that come alive in my imagination. But what makes it a normal day?

Other times it's a busy red and white mixed together, and a hint of blue trying to chase the business away, sometimes I'm even in control enough to let the blue take charge. Or it's just yellow and black, moving like a drugged swarm of bees. When I'm lucky enough to have a migrane, it's a strobe light in my head, sometimes changing colours but always flashing, never resting.

I like te purple and green the best. Not because it defines normality but because they compliment eachother the best, they bounce off eachother and stimulate the imagination. 

What colours do you see when you close your eyes?

Promise

We stayed there on the sand until the last fingers of the sun had disappeared from the sky. It was a warm night and the darkness wrapped itself around us as if it were a blanket. A blanket of comfort, of hope and a blanket of promise.

That was what we needed at this time. Promise. The promise that maybe the world will be better. That maybe tomorrow things won't seem so dim, that maybe tomorrow the world won't be so full of hate and terror and that we can allbreathe  a little better. Not the empty well wishes and condolences, not even the well meaning words that 'God is in control, even now.' Because, really, as horrible as it sounds that is not what I want to hear. Not when my world has fallen apart and everything is out of control. I don't want to hear those words when all I want to do is float up and away from all this pain and hurt. Far away, where I can be above all of the suffering and the horrors around me.

 But I am grounded by that blanket of promise. The hope that tomorrow will be better. The comfort that God has given in the warmth of the night. The hope found in that blanket wrapped around us, that he will be there by our side, guiding us and giving us the strength for each new day.

**this post is dedicated to all those affected by the horror and unrest that this world is faced with right now. I myself have not been affected but am praying sincerely for all those who are **

The forest

It was a storybook forest. A place where dreams are born, characters come to life and anything could happen if you let your imagination take you there.

Together we meandered along the winding trail, our footsteps muted by the soft soil underfoot. Kangaroos bounded on either side of the path, their watchful eyes keeping the secrets of the forest secure...

The path took several turns until a rustling noise caused us to stop an look upward into the limbs of a majestic tuart tree. As our eyes began to focus on the leaves, the hint of a shape that was there disappeared. Was it a tree nymph or an elf keeping watch over us, or was it maybe the spirit of the tree hiding because the kangaroos had warned her of our coming. 

After standing still for some time we could hear the whispers,  of the tree and see hints of shapes all around us. It was as if we really had stepped off the pages of a book into the forest of Rivendale or Narnia. But really it was that we had found a world of our own.

A thousand words

They say that a picture says a thousand words. I'm not a word smith. I'm an artist, an artist who likes to choose what those thousand words are.

So that is why I created this blog. I spend a lot of time on the road for work and that's when the pictures are constructed and the stories begin to unfold. I need somewhere to write those ideas. Somewhere to put down the stories that come, so that i can sort through them and decide what one thousand words will be selected for the painting...