I looked out the window at the black clouds ahead of us. I opened the back window and smelled the rain. You could smell the rain in the desert even before a drop fell. I closed my eyes. I held my hand out and felt the first drop. It was like a kiss. The sky was kissing me. It was a nice thought. It was something Dante would have thought. I felt another drop and then another. A kiss. A kiss. And then another kiss.
― Benjamin Alire Sáenz, Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe
Last set from Lake Scott! What a beautiful morning that was. The cloud cover made things even more impressive by delaying and softening the sunrise. If you’d like to read about my experience there, please click here.
If you’d like to read about my sunrise experience at Lake Scott, please click here.
As Above, So Below
Navigation
Mind the Rocks
Darkness and Light
Returning
If you’d like to read about my sunrise experience at Lake Scott, please click here.
And, after all that, the sun escaped into the clouds to hide a little longer. If you’d like to read about my sunrise experience at Lake Scott, please click here.
#1
Early dawn. The sun is still struggling to get over the canyon rim, so the light is gentle, for now.
#2
The Moon, only a sliver, still rides high in the sky, so soon to be a memory.
#3
The clouds resist, but find themselves luminous, while a rosy glow draws sailing swans.
#4
The clouds are mesmerized by their own reflections, water gazing at water.
#5
All is drawn into a circle.
You can read more about my visit to Lake Scott here.
Sharing new work can be both a frightening part of the creative process and a moment full of blissful surprise.
© Raymond Shobe with CCLicense
This poem tells of the swirling feelings of expectation, disappointment, and wonder that are part of putting your work on view for others. No matter how small or relatively inconsequential that piece may be, the artist identifies it as a part of himself or herself and its rejection or acceptance feels personal.
Nothing is more precious than the moment in which empathy is established between the audience and the artist. Sometimes the artist doesn’t even know that we have reached someone, but when we do find out, we can’t help but be exhilarated or moved. If a work speaks deeply to one person that is enough validation for creating it.
Thank you for reading!
Thirty-nine years of my life had passed before I understood that clouds were not my enemy; that they were beautiful, and that I needed them. I suppose this, for me, marked the beginning of wisdom. Life is short.
© Lupinelawyer with CCLicense
The woman looks around and thinks: ‘there cannot ever have been a spring more beautiful than this. I did not know until now that clouds could be like this. I did not know that the sky is the sea and that clouds are the souls of happy ships, sunk long ago. I did not know that the wind could be tender, like hands as they caress – what did I know – until now?