Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
to be understood.
How grass can be nourishing in the
mouths of the lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever
in allegiance with gravity
while we ourselves dream of rising.
How two hands touch and the bonds will
never be broken.
How people come, from delight or the
scars of damage,
to the comfort of a poem.
Let me keep my distance, always, from those
who think they have the answers.
Let me keep company always with those who say
“Look!” and laugh in astonishment,
and bow their heads.
— Mary Oliver, Mysteries, Yes (2009)
I just started the final day of preparations for tomorrow’s Gallery Talk at the Principle Gallery. I feel a bit beaten up this morning but am looking forward to finishing up. There’s always a big sense of relief after all the prep work is done and the paintings are packed and readied for the trip.
I am sharing a couple of images of new paintings that will be coming to Principle Gallery with me tomorrow. Much like the subject of yesterday’s post, both deal with the mysteries of this world and life in general. I thought the Mary Oliver poem above was a good fit.
For instance, there are the lines:
How rivers and stones are forever
in allegiance with gravity
while we ourselves dream of rising.
I very much see that in the painting at the top, Bring on the Light. We are rooted in this earth, bound to by gravity, yet are always reaching upward, aspiring to know and be more, inspired by the rising of the moon and sun.
Then there is that opening line from the poem:
Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
to be understood.
I can see that very much applying to my paintings with multiple moons, such as the one shown here. Mystery is at the heart of those paintings. We live in a world of mystery and unanswerable questions. Yet there are some who feel the need to create answers where there are none. I have to confess to having done that on more than one occasion, much to my shame. I am not a fan of this in myself or others. That can be summed up with another line:
Let me keep my distance, always, from those
who think they have the answers.
I try now to accept and even revel in the mystery. The eight moons in this painting may well baffle and frustrate some who want and even need answers. For me, they are just as they are meant to be– the mystery that brings light, and maybe even hope, into our darkness.
The title of this painting, by the way, is Wait ‘Til Next Year. For any baseball fan– or fan of any team in any sport, for that matter– that phrase is not unfamiliar. Most years end in disappointment yet the fact that next year hangs out there like of these moons creates a sense of hope and anticipation, even though we know that next year may well offer the same sense of despair as this year.
Mysteriously, we still hope.
I guess that applies to life as well.
There is no mystery what tomorrow brings for me. I will be giving my annual Gallery Talk at the Principle Gallery tomorrow, Saturday, September 26. It begins at 1 PM and ends with a free drawing for a favorite painting of mine. The drawing(s?) is the highlight, of course, but there is a bunch of other stuff that comes along with the talk, most of it fun and some of it thought-provoking. Some thoughtlessly-provoking, as well. I hope you can take a short break to come chat and maybe ask me some questions that I will attempt to answer. And maybe win a painting. The talk and the drawing are free and open to everyone.
Here’s a song from U2 to round out the triad today. This is an acoustic/ rehearsal version of their song Mysterious Ways.

