This is another painting, measuring 12″ by 18″ on paper, that has made its way to San Luis Obispo for my upcoming show, The Waking Moment. The show is at the Just Looking Gallery and opens on Saturday, December 1. The title of this piece is The Mellowing Way. There’s a subtlety in the color of the sky and a suppleness in the rolls of the fields here that gives the piece a sense of softness that I find intriguing. Maybe it’s more a softening of attitude than mere softness, an acceptance of one’s place in this world that allows one to simply just be and let the rest of the world wash over them as it rushes by.
I’ve said before that I wish I were a smooth stone on the bottom of a stream, cool and sleek as the water rushes by. No resistance. Maybe that’s what I see here. We start our existence as a rough-edged piece of this earth, a jagged stone, and in our life, or lives depending on your views on incarnations, we tumble along, our hard edges slowly eroding as we come to realize how futile is our resistance to the tides of time and change. Eventually, the water can no longer find an edge to push us along and we settle, finding a place where we are comfortable to watch the world pass by.
I don’t know. There’s a sense of tranquility and acceptance here that speaks to me personally. And that’s enough, I suppose. All I could ask.
Redtree Times 
What a beautifully-written tonic for the eyes and soul! Of course I agree and salute you for sharing this brilliance with us this morning!
Have a great day!
Z
Thanks so much for the kind words. Hope your day goes well!
Your take on the painting’s interesting. My first thought was of generations – a “grandparent” tree on the right, a “youngster”, fresh, new and un-nibbled on the left. It’s just another way of seeing things – we start out life fresh, smooth and unsullied, and before long the world begins to have its way. We get roughed up a bit, and then a bit more, and then come to terms with it all and find tranquility – despite the scars.
I also think of things in the way you describe, as being roughed up a bit by life and coming to terms with it despite sometimes taking a beating here and there. I have the scars to prove it. But I sometimes think of those scars as just marks where the world has smoothed me off a bit.