THE POINTILLIST DAY
August 17, 2015
Alpine, Al
A new dawn begins the pointillist’s portrait of my day. Night’s velvet drapes are drawn apart revealing the day’s outline slowly rotating into view. Then suddenly the paint brush is passed to me...life and I are collaborating, after all. Life has prepped the day but just a pencil sketch … each minute I must choose which dot of color represents my moment in the day. There are rows of pigments laid out for me. Some colors speak of joy and peace, while others touch chords of sorrow and despair, dull greys of boredom, reds of anger and the tans of inattention are all in place. There may be times when the only dots that work are the whites of acceptance…of just acknowledging what is… and trusting there will be times of color yet again
.
Never before have I seen so clearly the choice is up me…that each moment’s dot is a color I select. The artistic decisions for this portrait are mine…life just supplies background. It is up to me to interpret how I wish the finished product to look. I remind myself the picture emerges only after most of the dots are in place…at the end of the day what is revealed is what I painted with my choices… do I like what I see?…I chose each one, after all, none were chosen for me.
August 17, 2015
Alpine, Al
A new dawn begins the pointillist’s portrait of my day. Night’s velvet drapes are drawn apart revealing the day’s outline slowly rotating into view. Then suddenly the paint brush is passed to me...life and I are collaborating, after all. Life has prepped the day but just a pencil sketch … each minute I must choose which dot of color represents my moment in the day. There are rows of pigments laid out for me. Some colors speak of joy and peace, while others touch chords of sorrow and despair, dull greys of boredom, reds of anger and the tans of inattention are all in place. There may be times when the only dots that work are the whites of acceptance…of just acknowledging what is… and trusting there will be times of color yet again
.
Never before have I seen so clearly the choice is up me…that each moment’s dot is a color I select. The artistic decisions for this portrait are mine…life just supplies background. It is up to me to interpret how I wish the finished product to look. I remind myself the picture emerges only after most of the dots are in place…at the end of the day what is revealed is what I painted with my choices… do I like what I see?…I chose each one, after all, none were chosen for me.
