“I think that one’s art is a growth inside one. I do not think one can explain growth. It is silent and subtle. One does not keep digging up a plant to see how it grows.”
Welcome to Sunday Evening Reflection. I invite you to join me in a walk through Emily Carr’s garden, Victoria, British Columbia. It is a September day, the gentle warmth of the sun nourishes the vibrant colours of late summer. In the air, winter is stirring, readying for the days of rest that prepare the earth for the coming of spring.
“It is hard to remember just when you first became aware of being alive. It is like looking through rain onto a bald, new lawn; as you watch, the brown is all pricked with pale green. You did not see the points pierce, did not hear the stab – there they are!”
A Walk in Emily’s Garden from Rebecca Budd aka Clanmother on Vimeo.
Welcome to Sunday Evening Reflection. I invite you to join me on a quiet walk along the Breakwater District, Victoria, British Columbia. The Poetry of Jean-Jacques Fournier accompanies my thoughts as I look out at the distant horizon.
“ Singlehood ”
– rather in between –
Of single life,
And find somehow
It’s rather in between
The then and now,
Like not too hot
Or not too cold,
A sort of midway
Life and death
Tho not so bold,
A kind of lazy comfort
That goes nowhere
In a most committed way…
Don’t get me wrong
That’s not to say
It’s all without reward,
Who can deny
The pleasurable sensation
Of unbroken blissful silence,
No need to share
Or patience held be there,
No threat of deprivation
Nor succulent seclusion,
A feast without an equal
For one-way conversations!
ode to a solitude awakening…
© Jean-Jacques Fournier
“Singlehood” – rather in between – by Jean-Jacques Fournier from Rebecca Budd aka Clanmother on Vimeo.
“I love the dark hours of my being.
My mind deepens into them.
There I can find, as in old letters,
the days of my life, already lived,
and held like a legend, and understood.”
Rainer Maria Rilke
Sunday evenings are complex because we are at an “end” and about to head into a “beginning.” Sundays signal the subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) transition from time based on personal agendas to time structured by others who are depending upon our focused attention and interaction. I think of this as moving from “my time” to “their time.”
Some call it the Sunday Night Blues and many people have felt the sting. I first experienced this when I was in grade school, when I knew that a math test, or even worse, a spelling bee was scheduled for Monday morning. I confess that spelling was never my strong suit.
Over the years, I have created ways in which to embrace a spirit of anticipation for what lay ahead. Sunday evenings have become a time of reflection, a pause, a breathing space. Tomorrow will come, but for tonight, I am here.
Join me on my Sunday Evening Reflection.
Ocean Reflection from Rebecca Budd aka Clanmother on Vimeo.
A long-time friend once said to me, “We have a friendship, with commas.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“It means that, no matter how much time has passed, we pick up our conversation where we left off. There are no “periods” in our friendship timeline.”
This memory floated into my thoughts as I was reaching high above my head to capture a photo of a flowers.
What I love most about flowers is their willingness to bloom, without receiving anything in return. There is no quid pro quo. They bloom because that is what they were meant to do. They arrive in season, without commas, welcoming us to enjoy their moment in the sun.
Georgia O’Keeffe wrote: “Nobody sees a flower – really – it is so small it takes time – we haven’t time – and to see takes time, like to have a friend takes time.”
May our time be fill with many commas.
Join me in walking in the St. Albert’s Botanical Garden. You need to take a rain hat, because it is raining!
“Every child is an artist. The problem is staying an artist when you grow up.”
The Art Road from Rebecca Budd aka Clanmother on Vimeo.
Vancouver winters and early springs bring an abundance of rain, with heavy clouds surrounding our mountains. The wind is brisk, but not cold, and there is an invigorating moisture in the air. When I leave home, I contemplate whether I should take an umbrella or not. The day that I first discovered what I now call, The Art Road along the Vancouver Seawall, I chose my camera over umbrella.
It was a good decision…
The Vancouver Seawall from Cambie Bridge to Olympic Village had been turned into a mural extravaganza, seemingly overnight. The City of Vancouver and BC Housing created an innovative way to use art to conceal construction work. Even more exciting, they featured artwork by grade 6 and 7 students from the False Creek Elementary School.
Look closely at the artwork embedded with stories and symbolism.
An inukshuk, a landmark built for use by the Inuit, recognizing the diversity of cultural heritages.
A salmon in flight, signifying our responsibility to the environment.
Our water taxi, Aquabus, with mountains and the Burrard bridge in the background, representing the roads and waterways that connect our communities.
The Vancouver Skyline, a reminder that our city is growing and evolving.
The Canadian Flag, celebrating our great nation.
The Peace Symbol, accepting our responsibility to our global community.
Children have the power to transform our world, even at a young age. May we celebrate their work and validate their creative spirit. Remember Pablo Picasso’s mother:
“When I was a child my mother said to me, ‘If you become a soldier, you’ll be a general. If you become a monk, you’ll be the pope.’ Instead I became a painter and wound up as Picasso.”
“It was June, and the world smelled of roses. The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside.”
Maud Hart Lovelace, Betsy-Tacy and Tib
Artists in a Rose Garden from Rebecca Budd aka Clanmother on Vimeo.
I have always considered the month of June a synonym for roses, for it is in this special time that the fragrance of this flower is especially sweet and enticing. There is a fresh green to the leaves, a steadfastness to the petals that attracts the gentle buzz of bees. The sun has yet to show the heat of a summer’s day, the breeze still holds a crispness of late spring.
There is simply the rose; it is perfect in every moment of its existence.
Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.
A ChasingART series on “Artists in the Garden” explores the connection between nature and the creative spirit. Claude Monet, Vincent van Gogh, Gustav Klimt and Paul Cézanne intuitively understood that gardens have restorative power to inspire, heal and bring a calmness that encourages freedom of thought. The intermingling of sun, soil, seeds, and water brings forth new life, even as an artist gives birth to an internal vision that seeks an outlet.
But the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed.
Gardens continue to work their seemingly magical powers. A few days ago, I happened upon a rose garden with artists situated throughout the pathways, intent on their artistic endeavours.
I invite you to join me on my walk through a rose garden…