A fistful of rocks
Practice, practice, practice.
I told my art teacher my new mantram is practice, practice, practice.
He doesn’t know he is also my new Zen Roshi.
I’m taking a watercolor class this summer–my first–and each painting is a new journey.
I learn to blend colors and try to capture what my eye sees.
Like Zen Buddhism, the point is to see what is in front of you: not what you wish were there.
Have you heard the Heart Sutra?
One of the lines goes something like this:
No eye, no ear, no nose, no tongue, no body, no mind…
Sitting in my watercolor class, distractions fade away, and I have:
No phone, no screen, no music, no computer, no watch…
Taking an art class means uninterrupted time–for a full three hours–to just sit and paint.
My new meditation.
A liberating effect of the class is that I don’t care much what people think of my artwork.
As a complete beginner I know nothing.
In class I’ve painted blueberries, a poppy, a Tigridia bloom, strawflowers in a pot, an aubergine, wild peas and a fistful of rocks.
While traveling with a $3 paint-set I created purple mussels and a salt shaker.
I’m not even embarrassed to show people my efforts.
I figure I can’t do any worse: and I may even get better.
9 August 2017