The Invitation
Over and over, you ask me to stay. Over and over you invite me to return.
To return to nature I must be willing to make a journey - away from concrete, away from devices, away from fashion and finance, from all the trappings of a painted veil. I must prepare to don the quilted robes laid in precious greens beneath my feet. I must prepare to pay for sky with sky.
If I dare to open the door to this dwelling place I must be ready for solitude, for stillness, for silence.
Until then I believe that sky is too high a price to pay for sky. I cling to my devices. I keep a close watch for debt and homelessness, while far away a humble door swings open in a breeze, renewing its invitation.
Over and over, you ask me to stay. Over and over you invite me to return.
To return to nature I must be willing to make a journey - away from concrete, away from devices, away from fashion and finance, from all the trappings of a painted veil. I must prepare to don the quilted robes laid in precious greens beneath my feet. I must prepare to pay for sky with sky.
If I dare to open the door to this dwelling place I must be ready for solitude, for stillness, for silence.
Until then I believe that sky is too high a price to pay for sky. I cling to my devices. I keep a close watch for debt and homelessness, while far away a humble door swings open in a breeze, renewing its invitation.
Over and over, you ask me to stay. Over and over you invite me to return.
To return to nature I must be willing to make a journey - away from concrete, away from devices, away from fashion and finance, from all the trappings of a painted veil. I must prepare to don the quilted robes laid in precious greens beneath my feet. I must prepare to pay for sky with sky.
If I dare to open the door to this dwelling place I must be ready for solitude, for stillness, for silence.
Until then I believe that sky is too high a price to pay for sky. I cling to my devices. I keep a close watch for debt and homelessness, while far away a humble door swings open in a breeze, renewing its invitation.
20cm x 15cm (8” x 6”)
Acrylic/collage on paper
Original
This painting shows a damp Irish landscape at an uncertain time of day. A wet marshland reflects a sky full of weather – wind, rain and even the prospect of sunshine.
Murky browns in the foreground suggest an earthy smell. Sulfurous yellow sods nearest to the viewer hint at flowering weeds. All is not completely submerged. There is growth here.
A flock of sheep graze on the distant hills, on a green patch where the fields are warmed and vital.
A tiny cottage, distant and solitary, implies a place of retreat. Its location equidistant to the sheep and the marsh implies a relationship to both. Life can be sustained here. There is sustenance enough if one can bear the isolation.
There are no signs of modern life in this rural scene, no machinery, no cultivation. Only the house itself belies man’s influence here. Nature is savage in its natural state, and yet welcoming and tolerant too.
The sky is lashed by a whipping wind, however its caress on the landscape is anticipated, welcome even.
When I painting this artwork, I was thinking of how it might be to wander in a place like this, what coming home might be like. This little cottage would surely be cold and damp on arrival, but a roaring fire lit in the grate would be crackling and cosy. A cup of tea, or even a glass of whiskey, would be a moment to savour, mindfully.