weeding

weeding

I stand while painting in the studio, but I crouch while resting.  In the garden, where glory is given by gardeners and illustrated into Botany, I find respite in dirt from thought, and in the tedium of uprooting weeds from the spilling of ink. 
 
 
 
Though, yes, I battle against nature (mostly that of thistles and sticker burrs) I confine the battlefield to my backyard enclosure.  And by putting myself in charge I alone determine what is welcome to grow here and what is not.  
 

The garden is where I hear and locate (in this order) a pair of woodpeckers.  And as an artist blogger I find this a fitting phenomenon to catalog.  Isn't this what my painting blog is for?  To journal my painting alongside my experiences of bird-watching and gardening?  Woodpeckers are reminders of what's blissful, and they always have been.  They are the purest of distractions along the straight and narrow path.


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