When The Wind Blows

When the wind blows in our fair city we all have mixed emotions, depending on our allergies, our weaknesses, our foibles, we express them openly. At the grocery or at the board room someone says something about the wind. It effects us in many ways, it drives me straight up to the studio. I barely poke my head out of the house. Nice to know we're not alone with bits and pieces of our"selves" are flying around in the ether. Maybe Kansas is enjoying the sensations we were feeling just an hour ago. Hum mm.
Some people get very anxious in the winds. Maybe they realize they are sharing with the Universe the seeds that we received from the South. I use the studio for answers of those twists and turns, some seeds of thought stay here. I notice on these days I use some interesting colors and strokes, depending what's happening outside my window. I watch the trees slap against each other, the only times they get to touch. My short choppy textures building on each other touching layering all fitting with my "style" of painting. These are also great days for collages, they can slow me down a bit make my concentration sharper. Intensity, concentration, zone, whatever you want to call it, takes over and we're off, the painting and me, to the place we love the most, the painting completes my thoughts.
In essence I truly don't mind the windy days for myself. It brings me an inner peace most days. I mostly mind it for the Earth, it's need for water and nourishment, I think of the state of the planet all the issues that are of concern. I think how parched we are getting both inside and out. Meanwhile the painting is painting itself. It's taken on its own life for all of us to see. Upon review of the finished product I realize how my thoughts have entered and left the scene, how they have influenced here and there on the canvas. And the wind continues on its way. SR