acrylic painting I made recently based upon a photo of a birch in Acadia Park in Maine
There’s a lot of difference between listening and hearing. (
The scene is a circle of young women. In the distant past. I am among the women as I admit I am close to despair.
“Look at the beauty of the trees in the yard,” one member advises. She spreads her arms as if she were Mother Nature enjoying her handiwork.
The scene she describes doesn’t lift me. I feel censured for embracing a less-than-perfect place. And the blue rug where I sit opens. Or at least it seems to open. I fall through. Hidden inside.
Later. Much later. I realize I couldn’t accept the glory because it wasn’t mine. It belonged to someone else. I’d been given a simple answer to a complex situation. An accepting nod would have been better.
Strange. I understand this after my ears needed amplification to catch the most uncomplicated conversation.
It is also strange that I am grateful for the depths because now I can recognize a natural gem and celebrate its worth.
The news advertises fear. With or without facts depending upon the source. A friend calls about her confusion. I don’t have answers. I listen…
terrypetersen 