Tuesday, August 23, 2011

The ART of Hiking

Feeling a little exhausted from the weekend visit with my two delicious grandchildren, I went on a hike for revival. Walking up the road on my usual path, this hike was anything but usual. Oh, it started out very ordinary, but about ten minutes after I began, the usual and ordinary things looked strange and different.


The white picket fence across the street morphed into a white horizontal ladder. It led my eye around the house that vanished into a sea of pink, yellow, orange and red vibrant watercolors, connected by viridian lines. They were obviously created from the Coptics lurking nearby. I continued walking swiftly towards an earth tone collage in the middle of the road. It was held together only with the flatness of the substrate it rested on. I quickly passed it and turned away to see a bright yellow oval birdlike shape at my feet. The subdued background really made the yellow saturation pop.

At the opposite side of the road, I could see what looked like harry milk chocolate cubes lying in the field. They were being very still under the azure backdrop—probably to prevent from being eaten alive by wildlife. I hiked a little further and passed small cranberry and purple balls that were suspended by feathery green wisps—some had fallen to the ground below and were flattened. I then viewed the tall linear olive chutes softly waved at me as I passed—I smiled at them and stayed on my path.

The hike was a full Technicolor spectrum with an accompaniment of songbirds singing and winking knowingly at me along the way. I understood that this hike was designed just for me.

Before long, my excellent journey was winding down—the azure backdrop was slowly blending into midnight blue. I turned the corner back to reality, but I did not stop there—that path led me straight into my studio—and directly into the colors of my art journal.