All posts by sz1044

Your Greatest Happiness

Deep Thoughts and Musings, , , , ,

 

Are you happy?  What makes you happy?  What stands in the way of your happiness?  Who have you assigned to be responsible for your happiness?  I often repeat the trite phrase that we all say lately…..”I am responsible for my own happiness”.  But, often, when things don’t go my way, I find myself blaming others for the way I don’t adapt and put my own priorities first.

I recently decided to get to the bottom of these questions in my own life.  Once I decided what makes me happy (not an easy task, it took some thinking), I realized what makes me happy is not what I spend most of my time doing.  Why is that?

I decided to make a list of the things I do each day and then start at the top and ask myself why I was doing “that” instead of what makes me happy.

I asked myself how many of these things are taking me where I want to go?  This is an interesting exercise.  You might want to try it and see how many things you do because you really want to and how many are because others want you to.  I’m not talking about exercising, paying bills or helping a family member or a neighbor.  Those are things I do that are in my own self interest.  They enrich my life.

I decided to get out my machete and whack away.  If the item on the list didn’t contribute to the health of my body, the health of my relationships or my goal toward happiness (for me that meant my time for painting and reading) then it was assigned to someone willing to take it on or whacked off my list.  Whoa…..that sounds harsh!

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Do you love music?  Do you play an instrument and lose track of time when you’re playing it?  Do you love to write, dance, sing, paint, work with wood, pole vault or solve equations? Do you love to use your mind/body to create harmony, beauty and interest in your own life for your own pleasure, your own happiness?  I’m beginning to think that all we need to do is define what we love to do and make what we love to do a top priority.

In Progress

Beauty of Nature, Deep Thoughts and Musings, Watercolor Paintings, , , , ,

I am plugging along on a painting and pleased with its progress.  It’s pleased with its progress.  I know this because it all but said “ta-dah” as I stood back a ways and checked it out.  I get to a certain point and get anxious to be “done” and start something new.  But, one thing is for certain:  a painting is not done until says it is.

I’ve realized through the years though that once a painting is finished, I lose interest in it.  My enjoyment comes in the doing, in the painting, in the mystery of not knowing what it will end up being.  In this case, there is no question it will be a pink rose.  But there is the potential of it being much more.  It could evoke an emotion or a feeling or a memory of a feeling.  It could draw you in closer only to divert your attention to something lurking in the background.  There’s really no way to know until it’s through with you.

pink rose 001

It’s occurred to me that everything is in “progress”.  Everything in life is always unfolding and expanding. And, it is in the becoming that we find the fun…..the joy.  It’s our job as the creator of our life to lighten up, relax and listen and enjoy the progress.

Einstein Imagination

Deep Thoughts and Musings, , ,

Lizzy and I are writing a book.  We decided quite spur of the moment to do it.  I was telling her about Sophie, the black and white cat we had years ago.

When Sophie caught a mouse, we would find it on our front door mat.  When we discovered it, she was always right there to accept the credit.  We would thank her and pet her and let her know that we appreciated it.  We lived in the foothills where there were plenty of mice.  We had mouse traps under every cabinet and Sophie…..so,  we were in good shape.

The limb of a large scrub oak tree in the back yard hung over the railing of our deck.  Sophie had several litters while we lived there.  Each time, we watched her teach her kittens how to eat the food she’d caught.  The first time we watched this process, we cringed in horror.  She would climb up in that oak tree in wait for a bird.  When she caught one, she would wound it,  maneuver it onto the deck and hold a paw on it while her kittens skiddishly ripped at the birds entrails.  The bird would flop around  and cry out trying to escape.  Sophie would pounce on it again, hold it and the kittens would feast again.  Gruesome.  She taught those babies how to fend for themselves right in front of our eyes .

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So…..we are having a blast letting our imaginations take us in and out of this story line.  We’re spending many happy moments exploring how we want to illustrate it, how many illustrations it will take and what we want the cover to look like.  It’s our own creation; so, we’re the bosses.

It’s possible the book in it’s final form may not be anything like its’ origins.  But hey, it’s our imaginations, right.  Wherever it ends up, we will have loved the getting there.

You Only Look For What You Know

Deep Thoughts and Musings, , , , ,

One of my favorite quotes is attributed to Johann Wolfgang Goethe.  “You only see what you’re looking for.  And you only look for what you know.”

It never fails.  When I think of these words…..they stop me cold.  How can I look for what I don’t recognize, what I’m not familiar with, what I don’t even know exists?  How can I see beyond what I know, what I understand?

I have an example, superficial as it is.  I love bright, fuschia bougainvillea.  I’ve been dazzled by large clumps of them climbing on lattice work and balconies in Mexico and Southern California for years.  I just took a very close up picture of some and to my surprise the most exquisite little white stars appeared.  I wasn’t looking for them, I really didn’t know they were there.  But, I looked closely and saw something more than I had ever seen before.  It was a revelation.

If you prefer to see just the beautiful, the easy to understand, the easy to deal with…..then don’t look too closely.  Stand back a ways where it’s familiar and safe.

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But, if you’re curious and actually looking for some new, exciting knowledge,  look closely. You might see some ugly, black parasites.  But…..you might see some beautiful, exquisite white stars.

Ruby Red Rose

Watercolor Paintings, , , , ,

I’m constantly amazed at the places, people or objects that catch my eye and beg for their image to be captured in paint.  I can look at sunset after sunset and marvel at its’ beauty but seldom feel it’s speaking to me.  Others, can’t get to their brushes fast enough.  I admire mountains in the distance with their snow capped peaks but have little desire to paint them.  Maybe it’s just because I’m near sighted.

This rose looked back at me when I looked at it.  It gave off an inviting vibe.  It said:  Come on, get involved.  You’ll get lost in my curves, hills and valleys.  It felt juicy…..a lot like a tomato.  The rose scent was warm and full and I couldn’t resist painting her.

final ruby red 001 Here she is.  February 8, 2015.  She’s pretty proud of herself.  I am too.  The Ruby Red Rose  22″x30″

Is Time Like A River?

Deep Thoughts and Musings, , , ,

 

Have you ever had the experience of doing something so wonderful you wanted to share it with someone.  So you took them there, did it again with them, and were disappointed with their reaction?  And/Or…..you were not able to recreate that wonderful feeling yourself?

Perhaps the spontaneity, the serendipity, of the first experience provided a magic that couldn’t be replicated.  Perhaps  your expectations were just too high.  Or, perhaps, you were just not the same person you were then.

imagesHeraclitus is quoted as saying:  “No man steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.”

Is he saying that the water is not the same?  Is he referring to seasonal changes, higher water levels, etc.  Time has passed, the man has matured? changed?  Or was he talking about the flow of energy….. How everything has a different vibration and perhaps we are responsible for constant change and movement.

Through the years, I’ve heard quotes about how time flows like a river.  Well, I’ve observed rivers.  They ebb.  They stagnate and putrefy.  They flow.  They plunge down rapids and waterfalls.  They aerate and purify.  And…..they carry us with them.

On the other hand, I’ve been reading lately that time doesn’t exist.

Where Do You Find Your Inspiration?

Beauty of Nature, Deep Thoughts and Musings, , , ,

If I wait for inspiration to strike….it will be a long time between paintings.  So, I have to go outside.  Go for a walk.  It never takes long once I look up at the sky, along the mountain tops, scan the trees and catch sight of a bird or two for my mind to relax and begin to wander and to wonder at all of the colors, the shapes, the soft edges and the hard ones. They point me in one direction and then another.  It’s an eye exercise and a brain exercise.

The fresh air must go in and clear out all of the stalled thoughts just like sorbet and vodka between courses.  Because suddenly, everything seems fresher and more appealing.  I’m more receptive.

pink inspiration and finished yellow rose 008 pink inspiration and finished yellow rose 001

I made the trip down to the local Flower Patch shop.  They always have a good selection of beautiful roses.  I was looking for reds or pinks.  These were great for my purposes.  But the big surprise was the red berries.  I love them.  They provided the polka dots I’m always on the watch for.

pink inspiration and finished yellow rose 009

The walk did the trick.  The trip to the Flower Patch more than filled the need for reds and pinks.  I’m inspired.  Where do you find your inspiration?

 

The Fry Zone

Watercolor Paintings, , , , ,

I’ve started painting again.  I took my time gathering all of my supplies from nooks and crannies in the garage and basement.  I had forgotten that part of my life…..the brushes and tubes of paint, of course, but the staple gun and boards the wet paper is stretched on and dried…..the boxes of resist, graphite powder, sketch books, art books and things I don’t even remember using.

Another thing I had forgotten:  the fear of the blank white paper.  Like writer’s block, it can be paralyzing.  I’ve heard of a teacher telling a student “Put your paper on the driveway and run over it with your car tire.  Now, it’s already ruined.  Paint your heart out”.  So, mentally, that’s what I did.

Else and Bob and pink rose 003

Two sessions of sketching and painting and my brain hurts.  It’s fried!  I’m so out of the habit of serious focusing.  Don’t laugh.  The Fry Zone is a real place.  Haven’t you ever been there?

Words Are…..Magic

Deep Thoughts and Musings, , , , , ,

I read J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter books and thoroughly enjoyed them.  I enjoyed her use of words and her imagination.  I loved all the places and scenes she created.  I enjoyed being carried along on one adventure after another.  I enjoyed the innocent and uninitiated being educated by their mentors.   I held on to my seat in fear and anticipation as they experimented with words and actions to realize their full power.

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But it was in reading The Casual Vacancy that I really came to appreciate the way she developed her characters.  There were places where I had to get up and do something else or fall asleep.  But that happened with Harry Potter too.  So…..maybe it had more to do me that her writing ability.

When she says that words are our most inexhaustible source of magic,  I agree with her.  I’ve read what she had created with her imagination and words.  She’s transported me to a magical world paralleling ours and to village life in England.

I believe the words we speak and write to each other are magic.  They can create all kinds of things.  Words can create warm fuzzy feelings.  They can create proud moments.    They can turn hard hearts to mush.

The words we speak and write to ourselves can change our day to day existence into a happy, exciting place to live.  We can be kind and gentle to ourselves.  It is all in our minds, after all.  I’m thankful that our minds can do that for us.

 

Is it soup yet?

Deep Thoughts and Musings, , , , ,

I can remember coming home from school when I was a kid, bursting in the door and smelling warm, homey aromas.  Those were the days of homemade whole wheat bread.  My mouth waters just remembering slathering that bread with butter and honey.  Mom made bread at least once a week and she made soup a lot:  ham and bean if we’d had ham for Sunday dinner or minestrone or vegetable beef if we had roast beef.  You get the idea.

If she had just put it together and it hadn’t cooked long enough, she’d say “it’s not soup yet”.  So we’d smell it, want some and she’d say “it’s not soup yet”.  We’d keep asking “is it soup yet?”  Until it was.

minestrone_soup_vegetable_soup_220668

Years later, when Mom was talking about my baby sister, (really!  she was born while I was in college) she would use that descriptor.  She would relate her latest escapade or decision and by way of explanation add “she’s not soup yet”.

I shared this story with my sister-in-law recently.  It hadn’t occurred to me that her childhood experience would not be similar to mine.  We were both raised in the west and in the same religion.  But…..her mother was a single mom, a working mom.  She wasn’t there when she got home from school.  She didn’t bake homemade bread.

Then I realized there are so many different methods of making soup, some more complicated than others.  Some involve roasting bones, others opening cans.

But, once all of the ingredients are in the pot, and the simmering begins…..the goal is the same:  tender meat and veggies.  Essentially, it’s soup at that point.  But, the next day, when it’s reheated, a glorious transformation has taken place.  Time has passed, the flavors have mingled and are so much richer and more satisfying.

Life is like soup.  We struggle to bring all the right ingredients together.  We try to make the best choices.  Time passes.  We reassess the path we took.  Time passes.

Is it possible that because we’re in the pot (the trenches, so to speak), that we don’t see a transformation? But, that, indeed, one is taking place?  I believe that’s what life is:  a succession of change and transformation.  Otherwise, it’s not life!