New Eyes To See

 

Spring Beauty Gives Me Eyes To See

In the Midwest, we have waited a long time for spring.  Cold winds and low temperatures lasted until the middle of May.  Gray skies seemed endless.  Then, a magical wand passed over the midlands and urged closed buds to open wide and declare their beauty.  White iris with dark purple lace bloomed beside paper white peonies.  The warm earth exploded and presented the beauty that had been buried beneath the earth. 

The new buds and sudden blooming perennials increased my own energy.  I made plans for a garden filled with lavender and yellow roses.  I cherish and am grateful for my shade gardens now with gentle ferns uncurling their painted leaves.  Hostas erupt everywhere and bring fresh surprises. Winters snow coverings had hidden them, and I had forgotten where they were planted. Elegant viridian green color leaves mound into a large cluster almost over night. Various green hues became the outside décor. Little red hearts drip from shiny green branches as my bleeding heart plant displays the importance of timing and seasons.   The morning sun turns the mossy ground covering into a velvet lining in the fairy garden.  Spring’s motion prods me to see nature decorated with her best attire.

Birds sing in sweet twirls and chirps and throw love songs into the sky.  Bright red cardinals steal my focus and remind me of God’s best. Slowly the panorama of the earth has changed as the sun rises sooner and lasts longer. Spring has touched every living thing including me.

When the muse visits

When The Muse Visits

 

            I am so blessed when I am in the creative rhythm zone.  I am learning that fresh ideas and paintings flow when I pay attention to my creative energy. It is like connecting the dots and discovering that everything is easier when I go with the mojo of the day.

            This week I felt the muse come.  So, I slowed down my week of appointments, lunches, and exercise classes and painted. The sounds of Mozart from my Boze player propelled me into a wonderful journey. Spring blossoms inspired me to paint landscapes and flowers.   I marvel at God’s ability to make so many greens.  As I have grown older, I appreciate perennials with varied green leaves. Lush leaves of hostas and ferns bubble happiness into my soul.  The blue flowers of the brunneras, pinks in the bleeding heart, and brilliant colors in my freshly planted annual baskets bring constant joy through the season.
            My youngest granddaughter, Ellis, said, “ Mimi, you want to paint every flower and every plant, don’t you?”  She is right, I do.  Carving out time for art and writing can be a challenge.  However, this week I made it a priority.  When I paint , I feel God’s pleasure.  When I write, I feel God’s pleasure.  He is the Creator and that creator in me recognizes a bonding when I paint or write.  Ellis is right.  I do want to paint all the beauty He has created in our world.

            I recognized that some weeks bring more creative energy than others.  So, when the momentum and speed of creative rhythms are with me, I have purposed to indulge deeply into my painting and writing.,  On days when ideas are less or a little dormant, I will look for other ways to express God’s love.  Saying words of silver to a friend in despair is as creative as writing books and blogs.  Giving my beautiful flowers in a special vase is an act of love and creativity.  I never tire of sharing the word of God with others.  Again, I have had to learn the rhythm and timing, not mine but the Creator’s.  So, this week whether you are painting, writing, or sharing your love in a creative way, I hope you find your creative rhythm and dance to your own song.
           Alexandra Franzen says it well when she encourages us by saying, "Today: I hope that you write, make, say, or do something wonderful.  Something that leaves the world in a better condition than you found it."

New plantings, new beginnings.

           

Bittersweet choices

Round colorful mounds placed upon green straws.

G

Spring is Sweet but Bittersweet

As blue bells ring out their beauty and lilacs spray their sweetness, I marvel at the multi-colored tulip beds at Foster Park.  Redbuds light the paths to gardens filled with spectacular colors of red, yellow, purple, and pink.  Then, I sneeze and sneeze.  My eyes itch and I hear that familiar spring wheeze within.  How can I be allergic to such beauty?

God made these beautiful blossoms and me.  It is ironic these eye candies carry pollen to refurbish themselves, yet make me sneeze.  Yes, I understand that my autoimmune system needs its youthful vigor.  I know staying inside helps combat the pollen intake.  But really, who (old or young) can stay inside on these beautiful, treasured days?

I consider the seagulls that have been designed with boomerang wings.  It is not easy to begin their flight compared to other slight of wing birds. However, they can climb the wind to float on the top rung of the flight latter.   They need only to flap when they start to drop.  Their design is perfect for their full bodies.  So, what seems difficult becomes and asset because they can fly high above in the heavens and see what fish or sand scraps they choose.  They descend by just gliding in the wind to dine at sea or sand.

I consider the great horned owl.  His favorite meal is a skunk.  I suppose his appetite to exist is stronger than the smell he must withstand.  Again, a struggle and strange combination exists in our natural world.

I consider the tulips.  Their beauty is breathtaking when their blooms pop open like a set alarm clock.  They are framed by dazzling red bud and lilac trees, which hear the same alarm.  Their beauty fleeting before my eyes because that same alarm that signaled the bud, now signals their time on earth is over.  “ Too soon, too fast,” I declare over the beds of glory.  In retrospect, I should rejoice over their reign. It is my artist heart that would like them to stay and bloom all summer.  However, then there would be no such season as spring.

So whether it is allergies, boomerang wings, stinky prey, or a brief life span, I must let the trial come to gather the blessing and manna of this day.