A SHAFT OF LIGHT

Recalling a quiet walk in the woods. Returning to revise and totally rewrite, after wandering way off topic and into subsequent unfoldings. In a complex world simplicity is a rare gem. So to resume the thread of inspiration for this painting, already titled ‘A Shaft of Light.’

Autumn sunlight streaming through, down a steep incline, moving among prickly underbrush, layers of illuminated leaves below silent sleeping trees. To pause on a single weighted footfall- crunch of brittle dry detritus. An unseen creature one with the woods. ~

Breaking the surface of sleep, escaping with a sudden gut-deep abandoned and inconsolable whimper, from some tragic sad and soulful dream. What a way to wake to wonder why and what in the world it may mean.

So arise and sit awhile in quiet, with warm cupped comfort of tea before more rest. After a whole night’s study and three hours sleep. Pale peach tints of blue-grey damp dawn before bird chirp, mountains still veiled in grey across the bay. The inner child awaits the returning wise warrior within.

Still unaware the dream had coincided with widespread floods throughout the land, leaving many abandoned without home, echoes of the waking whimper from the dream and images related.

Waiting watchful, listening inwardly for the sign, to resume the task in hand. The painting, the first stage completed to satisfaction almost a month ago. Still on pause, having subtle qualities easily spoiled by haste. With art, it serves no purpose to push the river, but go with nature’s flow.

So when the natural light is right, to illuminate, and not obliterate these intricate textures that arrived, since they’re uncontrived. A specific and precise process currently evolving, involving tactile textures.

Which, when you really focus, with soft sustained attention, deep magnification, you find there’s worlds in there, and diversified dimensions. In visionary relief as glimpsed archaic hieroglyphics revealed in the light of day, which never went away.

To see, you must sustain and not just glance off. It’s no mere insincere effect. Feel lovingly through the eyes and join the dots. Undistracted by all passing thoughts. Inner tension is inattention, beauty, the present absence of beholder.

I will have to take a gentle tentative approach. The black can blur and smudge when touched by water, that’s because it’s crayon and not paint, as when you take a rubbing from a coin.

But i took a very subtle chance, sealed it first all over with matt varnish. First attempt showed even that would smudge. So retouched with white and chose the softest brush, a Chinese bamboo one with hair that caused no friction, and softly sealed with no smudge anywhere. Even so must still proceed with care.

For now, i’ll sleep on it. Then create a sacred space, with reverence for refinement of ancient Chinese art, where minimal soft colour is subordinate to form and line, and disregarding time, find quiet joy in the process.

Since we’ve lost the plot,

then why not stop the fight?

So many see neither wood nor trees.

Oh look, a shaft of light!

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Martin Rainbow-maker.

A Shaft of Light - Nov 15 
           Martin Law