Blue Wildflowers and Water Striders

blfow1Yesterday’s painting was pulled out of that mysterious space between my ears, which always worries me a little.

What’s real in this painting? Define “real” πŸ™‚

The blackened tree stump exists, but it’s in the middle of a sandy field where lightening struck it years ago. I could take you there and show you right now-pretty impressive, the power of lightening. The wildflowers existed, but it was last spring and they don’t grow in wet areas. The background exists in the neural jungle of my brain and the water striders! Exist in my memory. Can you see them? You have to look closely-they are in the center of the ripples.

On the farm where I grew up three tiny springs formed tiny brooks nourished out of the depths of the earth. The water was icy cold and clear as glass. In a few spots little pools formed and on the pools glided theΒ  water striders. I remember lying on a big, flat rock watching the little insects for hours. Row, row, row your little feet and why don’t you sink? I studied how their ripples expanded outward until they touched the oncoming ripples of their tribesmen.

Just a whisper of movement sent ripples out that eventually affected everything in the pool. I think our actions do the same thing. What we do and say ripples out and touches the ripples of what others do and say. Everything is connected; everything affects everything else. So do good today and send out good ripples. I think it matters.


  1. Yes! I love how the thing lodged in memory continues to ripple and ripple. I love how waves, ripples, and stillness continue to be generated by that very same thing, just with varied intensity as times moves along.

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