For the Time Being

From the studio

I sat down to paint flowers. That was the plan, anyway. Somewhere along the way, the flowers disappeared, and a red barn took their place. Then came a utility pole, a solitary crow perched on the wires, and three clouds drifting overhead. I’ve learned not to argue too much with these changes in direction. Sometimes the painting has other ideas. As the scene emerged, I found myself thinking about impermanence. The three clouds, a prime number as is often the case in my work, mirror the three subjects below. The crow represents life, the utility pole represents power, and the barn represents the material things we build and surround ourselves with. All three seem more permanent than the clouds passing overhead, but that permanence is an illusion. The crow will eventually die. The pole will fall, and the barn will crumble. Even the landscape itself is temporary. Everything is passing, whether in minutes, lifetimes, or centuries. The clouds are simply more obvious about it. I find something comforting in that realization. Impermanence doesn’t make something less meaningful. Perhaps it’s what makes it worth noticing in the first place.