Saturday, April 7, 2012

Watching paint dry

Oh, my my my

what a fabulous day.

(We needed a little white space there for emphasis.)

I got up this morning after a great night's sleep & had some coffee & read some Reinventing Fire & jotted & doodled some innovations. Then I took a shower & walked to the post office & looped back to the Castell Gallery to hear Roger Ricco, one of the 2 artists on display this month, speak about photography & painting (he does both) & art in general & the value of constraint. Very inspiring. I came home & started building a box for a photography project, a little set that shall hold my magnifying glass "people." Then I gessoed a canvas & watched paint dry for a while -- I recommend it -- & glued down a couple of my found art supplies on said canvas. (Really it's a canvas board, but who's quibbling?) Plus, while doing that, I soaked my feet in green tea water & had a nice beverage, also containing -- but not limited to -- green tea.

I'm about to get back to doing all of the above, so I bid you adieu. There's a song that's been running through my head today: it's the most wonderful time of the year... So true. You know why? The most wonderful time of the year -- indeed, the only real time -- is now.

In case you want to look up the mentioned folk: (doesn't that spelling just give the nicest pronunciation?)

Blog alternative:
230. Watch paint dry. Or water boil. In other words, rather than multitasking during a task that requires no further input from you (boil, boil, water! you can do it!) simply be there. Stand or sit & watch the process. Listen, if there's a sound. (I defy you to find the sound of paint drying, but water boiling will give you a nice song.) Be there, in your own body, with the idea that the most important thing to do is just to be there in your own body.