My happy Florida fun bubble burst upon my return home. Well, not immediately. As I traveled him from the airport, I took pictures of the sun setting.
It was so orange and so beautiful.
February 28th. I woke up to a world in turmoil, although I wasn’t aware of it at first. I went to the gym to participate in a circuit training class and, later, I went to an art exhibit at the Buffalo Launch Club, featuring a group of artists who all had lived on Grand Island at some point in their lives. The Buffalo Launch Club faces the river, and there is a lovely, although decommissioned, lighthouse on the grounds. So I took a bunch of photographs. Before I went to the art exhibit, Trinity was brought back by the pet sitter. She wasted no time in meowing for food.
I checked the internet and found that the United States and Israel had started a bombing campaign against Iran. For what reason, I didn’t know. How do I express my horror at this violent attack? I started by writing a haiku.
Planes inflict death
Persian ironwoods tremble
leopards run away.
March 1st. I went to church and practiced with the choir. I wondered how I could do art when I felt so devastated by everything that I was reading in the news. In the sermon, the deacon Jeffrey asjed the question, “Have you seen the kingdom of God?” When the church service was over, I told him that my answer was no. He said that was okay. I felt understoon, but I also I felt my motivation and my energy for creativity leaving me. I doubted that it really mattered. The news was continuing to get worse and more horrifying. I wrote a haiku.
God’s kingdom vanished
behind , fog, clouds, and sadness.
We have lost our way.
March 2nd. All I managed was a haiku, which expressed how I felt at the moment. I understood that a big part of art is self expression, and that poetry is an art form.
The cold sun’s fierce face
stares at complicit people,
with blood on their hands.
March 3rd. For sure, this 100-day art challenge was not going as I had hoped it would. I felt significantly less creative than I did a year ago. Also it was the day that I call “Roy Gerard Remembrance Day” (my father’s birthday). We had fun celebrating my dad’s birthday. Until my nephew Devin was born in 1981, my dad’s birthday was the first family birthday of the year and worthy of energetic celebration. I shared some of my memories of my dad on Facebook and felt good about that. I wanted people to know about how much fun my dad was and how he enriched my life. Memories though get warped by time, and I wondered if that were true in my case. I wrote this haiku about the impersistence of memory:
Shadows of the past
laughter echoes jaggedly
confusing memory
On my dad’s remembrance day, I made more of an effort to do some artwork because I remembered that he liked seeing my drawings and paintings. So, I finished the drawing that I had started a few days earlier, based on the Inktober 52 prompt: horse. I felt a sense of peace while drawing the horse because horses are so beautiful. Horses symbolize freedom, power, strength, and intelligence. Horses also signify spiritual transcendence. They are magestic, and I love them.
March 4th. I went to Trinity Church for the first of three Lenten luncheons. I was so happy to see that there were green shoots growing out of the ground. Daffodils. They are baby plants. They serve as a reminder that nature has life giving powers, regardless of the behavior of human beings. I wondered if being able to observe the life affirming powers of nature was at least a small glimpse into the kingdom of God. I didn’t know. I felt that not knowing was okay.
Tiny plantlets grow
from the newly softened earth
A promise of spring
I took a picture of Trinity, looking happy and relaxed. What a sweet girl she is, and she loves unconditionally. She has the most adorable face. Portrait of cat is art, I think.
March 5th. It was another day and time for another haiku. Another day when writing and art felt hard. I began to wonder if this year’s art project was more about documenting ongoing history as a cautionary tale for the future than just an expression of creativity.
Newscasters say war
A mad president caused it?
Girls die in their school.
Next time: My art journey continues, hitting all sorts of bumps and detours. The art journey is truly a work in progress, bringing joy, heartbreak, and love. Art does bring out many feelings, and, frequently, those feelings are very big.
