On this chilly morning, as I sit with my coffee, I found myself looking at this piece. Its one I painted recently, within the last week or so, and I find I very much enjoy looking at it. I called it Rustic Place. Given that I was enjoying it, I figured I might as well share some thoughts about it.
As you can see, the piece is quite abstract. That being said, its not so abstract that you can't see what it is, the inside of a rustic old cabin with a small window that looks out into the forest. In fact, I find that it really does "feel" like the old weather beaten wood, slightly stained and discoloured from decades, maybe centuries of providing warmth and shelter. There's something paradoxically beautiful about it. Everyone these days seems to be fascinated by the "new"; not me, I find true beauty lies in the old, in the wisdom, the stories, the proven ability to stand the test of time.
Its no surprise to those that know me, and who know my better half, that I'd be inspired by the idea of sitting in an old backwoods cabin, looking out at the trees. In fact, that's my dream, our dream, or one of them; to pack it all up, leave the city life behind and live out our days surrounded by nature. We don't need anything fancy, a small cabin, some land, maybe a river. Imagine, just spending the days out in the garden, growing food. Spring and summer mornings spent in the silent meditation of separating the weeds from the plants against the background song of the chirping birds. Maybe a few quiet afternoons spent fishing. And then, of course, relaxing inside on those cold days, with a nice hot cup of tea, the fire roaring. There's a slight hint of "old wood" and warmth in the air; its such a comforting, cozy aroma. And we look out the window as the sun begins to set, lighting the sky in that stunning mix of pink and blue, providing a beautiful backdrop for the evergreens. Yeah, that sounds just about perfect to me.