What are you feeling?

Things are scrambled.  There is disorientation.  My brother in San Francisco doesn’t drive.  He relies on buses.  The buses are running but it’s always a risk.  Who else is going to be on the bus?  What are their personal habits of cleanliness and responsibility towards others?  He can’t get to his usual places to shop for the food he usually eats.  He is eating more canned food.  His health is suffering.  He isn’t getting the exercise he normally gets.  He lives alone, is a social being and feels cut off from his connections.  His lifestyle has been severely curtailed.  He lives minimally with a small carbon footprint.  Even with that, this is rough.

After a recent conversation with him, I felt sad.  I told him that he needed to eat healthy.  That much he could do for himself.  The stores where he usually shops are over-crowded making him less likely to shop there.  I told him he could have fresh produce delivered.  Regardless, he is down-hearted by everything that is going on right now.  Living in San Francisco, he feels the impact more than I do where I live.  Less freedom of motion.  His is one story among many…one good reason for kindness towards one another.

Expressive.1

This face came about from what I was feeling in the moment.  The words that I wrote  were:

There is so much that is going on that is challenging for many at this time.  I wouldn’t know where to begin.  An ongoing sadness and simultaneously, an awareness of the extreme beauty that surrounds us.  Concern for self and family and community, the world–the earth.  Humans haven’t lived softly on this planet.  Why have we distanced from the earth who sustains us?  There are so many questions hovering in the air.  I like to think that where there’s a question, nearby is an answer.  We have to pay attention–become conscious of the feedback that we are receiving from the earth and her other creatures.  We aren’t alone in this.  Why do we forget?

Then, yesterday, sitting in my tiny garden in the backyard, leaning into the uncertainty, a little hummingbird settled nearby, framed in a wire rectangle of the fenced enclosure.  It visited for an indeterminate time and we studied one another.  The rarity of such an experience always feels like an honoring.

This painting is a reminder to not run away from your feelings.  As they arise, do acknowledge them, embrace them, sit with them, be patient with yourself through them.  It is in this state of acceptance and bringing comfort to them that they are recognized and eased.  Have you noticed that?

In the midst of uncertainty, some things feel right with the world.  We look for those things.

Take good care.

Giraffe

As a girl growing up in San Francisco, an occasional treat was a visit to the San Francisco Zoo.  While I don’t support animals in captivity, I have to admit that while a child, it was an opportunity to see an animal up close that I might otherwise never see.  I remember the giraffe, tall, lanky, that neck that was so long, seemingly fragile yet strong.  I have an image of the giraffe, splayed legs as he stooped to pick up a piece of fruit on the ground.

The giraffe has a very large heart, larger than any other land mammal.  The biological reason could be due to the lengthy map of a giraffe’s body.  I know so little.  However, I have read that the giraffe, though not sanctioned as such, is an endangered species.  This saddens me.

In the wild, a giraffe can live for 25 years.  In captivity, it varies.

giraffe

 

****
I honestly don’t know why this giraffe is blue.  Perhaps that was the color on my brush at the time and I didn’t want to waste it.  So onto the canvas
it went.  What frequently happens is that I see an image in a work in progress, in this case the giraffe, and I bring it forward.  I create a background for it.

Though not realistic, this giraffe certainly has personality.

****
In a sense, with this sheltering at home, we have an odd opportunity.  We are experiencing a time that seems outside of time.  For those of who are blessed to have enough and to have our health, we have this sort of break where we can engage our imagination.  How could things be different?  How could things be better?  We are so yearning to return to “normal” whatever that means to you.  Really, was normal so great?  What about our lives and times could be reimagined?  What could be made better?  Not only for some of us, but for all of us?

I read that the Navajo Tribes are facing life and death challenges with the Covid 19 virus.  Most of these people don’t have running water and we know that washing your hands, cleanliness is crucial to preventing the spread of the virus.  I’ve read that the federal government has allotted some monies to help them but the Tribe can’t access the monies due to bureaucracy.  Really!  In a time of emergency direct assistance is blocked!

Can we imagine this scenario a lot better?  Shouldn’t every household in the US have running water, at the very least?

On the altruistic side, 21 medical personnel from UCSF in San Francisco have traveled to the Navajo Nations to give medical support  through its Department of Medicine’s Health, Equity, Action and Leadership initiative.  Doctors, nurses and other health care workers in the two-year fellowship assist with health care needs in rural and disadvantaged communities around the world.  Thank you.

Alright, I step off the soapbox (for now)…but this has brought up something I feel passionate about.  What are you feeling passionate about as you shelter in place?  How can you reimagine it better?

****
A sweet video clip of this beautiful animal.

The Ballerinas

In these uncertain times, we strive for balance, meaning, purpose.  We hope for the safety and health of ourselves and those we love…and we extend that prayer for our entire family, neighbors, community, state, country, neighboring countries, the earth.  We are in this together.  We always have been.

****
I honestly don’t know why I started to paint ballerinas.  Perhaps it is their perfection of form–the way their bodies stand tall and poised, their mastery of graceful movement.  Perhaps it was the memory of a fleeting girlhood fantasy of being a ballerina.  Perhaps it is their delicate beauty.

I began painting ballerinas, several of them, one after the other.  This first painting was a total surprise to me.  It’s one that started out as something else, a compassionate feminine Buddha portrait, and then, it turned into the ballerinas.  At first, the central ballerina was a flower, the bleeding heart.  However, all around her, other ballerina figures were developing.  Suddenly, the bleeding heart no longer fit.  The flower became the central ballerina and she too changed over time.

Ballerinas.1

Sometimes, the way in which the paint or acrylic ink  “dripped” prompted a new figure.  I limited the color palette.

****
Today is a good day to notice beauty.