A scene I sketched from the Namib desert in Namibia – Southern Africa. A strange and beautiful place. When the wind blows through these ragged trees it creates a peculiar, almost mournful whistling sound.
To live deliberately is a good thing. Goal-setting and to-do lists etc., certainly get things done. But to be overly deliberate in our living is limiting. It becomes exhausting. Everything has to be gruellingly willed into existence, and the inevitable price we pay is a form of tunnel vision and a loss in natural spontaneity and creativity.
I visited London and absolutely revelled in the Christmas lights. I watched fascinated as people’s faces were transformed into childlike wonder and joy. I couldn’t see my face, but no doubt it too was transformed. What a wonderful evening we had. Thank you, London.
Watching the changes in Nature, my thoughts have also moved on to those changes going on within us.
I think one of the most beautiful processes is the one that secretly goes on in every human life as it gathers, in the flow of time, its experiences and unites them into a unique inner story of memory and ongoing change. What a privilege to be able to observe these unfolding stories in ourselves and in others, and to partake in creating and shaping them throughout the seasons of life.
Yesterday I was engrossed in watching the shadow of a cloud slowly move across the slope of a small hill. It was a moment of sheer beauty. It got me thinking of the landscape and the intimate relationship it shares with light.
It has this wonderful gift of being able to receive the light into itself and to immediately begin to shape it in diverse textures of shadow and colour according to all the nooks and crannies and angles of the terrain. It’s as if the landscape becomes an artist using light as the paint to produce a portrait of itself. I’ve often seen what I can only call breathtaking creations flowing out of this sacred and intimate relationship.