Blue Lace and Stars
by RC DeWinter
Title
Blue Lace and Stars
Artist
RC DeWinter
Medium
Painting - Digital Oils
Description
Copyright 2014 RC deWinter ~ All Rights Reserved
It's been a pretty lonely summer. Most days I stay up too late, get up too early, work like a demon all day painting and writing and doing all the back work associated with both. By the time the sun goes down my eyes are killing me and I'm ready to collapse - flat as yesterday's ginger ale, exhausted from the effort of maintaining a frail candle of hope in a dark arena.
Last evening around 8:30 I flopped onto the couch and was asleep within minutes.
I'd been down all day, thinking of how long I've labored in the fields of creativity with such a pitiful yield.
I found myself in a dream garden. It looked suspiciously like the narrow area of stunted flowers planted in poor soil around the house where I grew up. Suddenly Vincent was at my side. He put a hand on my shoulder in a rare gesture of familiarity, startling me so that I pulled back slightly.
He removed his hand. "I'm sorry, did I frighten you?"
"I wasn't expecting you. Not here, not now, not in this pitiful excuse for a garden."
"Ah," Vincent said, "that's exactly why I am here. Your memories of this place are not good, I know. And they are reinforced every time you return. Let us walk a little bit."
We headed toward the front of the yard, and when we reached a scraggly hydrangea, one lone blue bloom adorning it, Vincent stopped.
"Let us talk about beauty and resilience," he said, gesturing toward the flower. "Most people, coming across this one bright bit of color in a garden that can barely be called such, would be relieved and cheered to see something blooming among patches of bare earth and weedy greenery. And that is natural. The human spirit seeks beauty. But beauty takes many forms, and the discerning eye will find it even when it is not obvious."
Vincent was dreadfully serious. I looked at him as he stood there, frowning slightly and staring down at his shoes. He seemed to be searching for his next words.
He looked up at me and I raised my eyebrows questioningly. "And..?"
"And this," he replied. He put his hands around the hydrangea, covering the florets, and said, "Now look. What do you see?"
I looked down at heavy, stony soil, nowhere near the rich brown color one associates with healthy beautiful gardens.
"I see a strip of earth tended by a lazy ignorant gardener," I replied. "Improperly nurtured, plants carelessly pruned too often and at the wrong times. All the signs of an undereducated, impatient mind with no curiosity or desire to improve."
"Now you are making it personal," Vincent answered. "You are putting the character of your mother into your observation. Look again."
I did, scouring the landscape for something to expand upon. I couldn't come up with anything.
Taking my arm, Vincent knelt down and pulled me down to the ground with him. He brushed aside stray bits of mutilated plants, exposing tiny growing things.
"You see," he said, "here are the beginnings of new growth, new life. Forget that they are likely weeds, look at the variety of shape and color hidden behind the sprawling of the obvious."
I stuck my face down almost level with the ground and there I saw them, a legion of little plants pushing their way toward the sun. Upon closer observation I could see tiny stars, tender shoots of greens and yellows, browns and orange, a subtle palette of varying shades painted on leaves so small one would have to be as close as I was to notice.
I smiled involuntarily and Vincent said, "Good! You have discovered something many people never do - behind the bright and showy often lies an entire universe of a different kind of beauty, along with determination ...perhaps more elemental, more primitive, but pleasing to the eye and to the soul nonetheless."
He got up and helped me to my feet. "I must go," he said. "I have many other things yet to do. You must promise me that you will look for beauty everywhere. Do not be trapped in your first judgment of what you see in front of you. Explore, look beyond what glitters. Promise me."
I looked at him and said, "I promise."
"Au 'voir," Vincent replied. "You are on your way to becoming a connoisseur of observation. And once you can take those observations and apply them to the intangible, the sun will shine brighter for you."
He turned and waved and I awoke. It was nearly midnight, but I got up to make a record of what Vincent had shown me. Here, in a style as close to his as I can make it, is that patch of ground where we stood, discovering what lies beyond first impressions.
~ copyright 2014 RC deWinter
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Thanks to the group hosts for their encouragement and support.
hydrangea, flower, floral, garden, foliage. leaves, weeds, outdoors, botanical, summer, plant, plants, blue hydrangea, dirt, soil, wall art, rc dewinter, dewinter
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August 13th, 2014
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Comments (24)
RC DeWinter
How very kind of you, Uma, I appreciate your taking the time to read the stories and I;m happy you enjoy them. Many thanks for your encouragement.
Uma Krishnamoorthy
I love reading the description that accompanies every painting....the story, the poem.......it is so engrossing....the words cast a magic spell....you have an amazing ability to take the reader along into a world where one never knows when reality ends and the dream begins.....poignantly achingly beautiful.
Deb Halloran
Gina, What a gorgeous painting..the colors and detail are truly incredible. Your writing is so touching...what a talent you have. Nicely done. v/f
RC DeWinter
Nava, how kind of you, I[m glad the story spoke to you. I appreciate your lovely feedback and encouragement, thank you.
RC DeWinter
How extravagantly kind you are, Doug, and I so appreciate your close attention to my work and encouraging words. Thank you so very much.
Nava Jo Thompson
Gina---amazing writing---the painting is beautiful too. If this is true that we need to look past the glitter --for a more real beauty in nature---it might mean that we should try to find the best in people too. Not always easy--thanks for sharing your story---I don't think I will ever forget it. lvf
Doug Kreuger
Dear Regina, What a gorgeous painting—made all the more beautiful through your romantic story telling. I now find myself at crossroads in your prose, having difficulty knowing where reality ends and fiction begins… Regardless, I thank you for your insightful sharing, I always take away at least one point, or more to ponder. "Vincent" is very lucky to have a friend like you. Your WFS Friend, Doug L&F