On a recent road trip, I went to view some desert sculptures in Australia’s New South Whales Outback.
The sun was almost set, and the visiting hours of the site were nearing their end. It was especially cold that afternoon, I remember putting on my jacked and hobo gloves before getting out of the car.
The sculptures were great, but I found myself more captivated by the natural wilderness surrounding them
The endless sense of space, the shrub like plants and the bright unworldly color of the grass against the red rocks.
While groups of tourists gathered around the sculptures,discussing them, photographing them from many different angles, posing with them… I found myself taking pictures of the scruffy trees reflecting the last rays of the day’s sunlight.
Maybe I’m just not cultured’ enough…
But most times, natural beauty wins for me.
A fun little game where I started with a curve or two and tried to turn it into a sketch…
Drawing with a single curve
Drawing with two curves
Drawing with three curves
Every period of my life,where a musical accompaniment marked the occasion, felt significant and had its very own sensation or vibe.
It is hard to imagine this time in my life having a feeling or any sense of anything.
Perhaps its time to find a new band. Add a new sound track to propel me into a distinct sense of feeling for this chapter. Add some movement to what feels like a stagnant pond in a defunct farmstead.
I will create a playlist and label it: ESCAPE
Not one song from my past will find a place in its line up.
A sly fox of a character, she would lurk on the edges, the outskirts of galas and fun parks. Luring weary fun seekers unaware.
An introverted pied piper without the music, leading with underlying themes.
And what of the rats and children? The worldings she might prey to steal? For certainly the cliff would be but a door or tunnel. Like the old closet which lead the chosen to Narnia and left the others knocking their heads into the wall crying,
“There is nothing here!”
And on the other side, a nurturing land for undiagnosed madness. Raising specialist spies to infiltrate the world of what is with what was.
Not what was before there, but what had been before within us.
Prompt from dailypost.wordpress.com:
Be the Change
If you can get your fine vine tendrils
Past her sharpened thorns
Touch the flower
Taste the rose
Feel yourself reborn
Poem by Aphroditesdream