Around age nine, while walking through the countryside, he saw a tree filled with angels.
–On William Blake, http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/116
LAST NIGHT, in a single sitting, my first painting of 2012 was born on wooden board. So my personal “New Year” has now begun in earnest, and I will take this opportunity to extend heartfelt wishes for you and yours for good health and blessings uncountable, today and throughout this year and in those to come.
Alan has the garden illuminated so beautifully it seems (at night especially) an unearthly place, abounding with quiet wonders that surprise and delight. The other night I took the time to simply get away from the computer (!) and head outside to wander a bit, to be embraced by the thriving jungle garden and remember that overhead there is starlight. I sat for a while, and let my mind ramble, and became suddenly aware of a sound that had been there, all along. It was most gentle, and partook of ancient rhythms.
I heard the soft night breezes rustling through the palm fronds high above, pianissimo, as a harp loved by fingers. It was like music.
It did not care in the least whether any were there to listen, or not. To my weary mind it sounded a lullaby, but just as likely it might have been part of some great timeless chorus of praise eternal, just because. (In the same sense as our heartbeats.) Who can say?
Whatever the case I heard it myself, and am fully content with the mystery. And I am grateful.
I hope you enjoy the painting. Thank you.