We’re off on a Haiku Watercolor Weekend in The Next Chapter, our Wayfarer way of wandering the world and seeing all the beauty of different places from the above the rims of our coffee cups on a cool, misty morning as we gather our schnoodles, Boo Radley and Ollie, into our laps and give them tiny bites of powdered donuts on a Sunday morning in Indian Springs State Park in Flovilla, Georgia. And yes, we, too, are a little misty-eyed even without the weather, because we are missing our Schnauzery-Schnoodle Fitz, who was too miserable to go on living and had to be granted the perpetual nap last Wednesday afternoon as I held him for the last time, hugging him close as he drew his last breath in this world. He was a camping dog straight to his very core and took in the world through his nose the way we take it in through our eyes, only he made no effort to hide his animalistic wild passion to dig into it all while we sometimes take it for granted and try to keep ourselves contained. But he is here in his way, in spirit, for there is a little vial of clipped hair that sits in its place in the Wayfarer that he slept in only once before taking an exit the rest of us haven’t taken yet. And while he’s reached his final destination, he remains forever imprinted on our hearts for the rest of our journey because we are forever changed having been his people.
May is a month of Haiku Watercolor Weekends, and I’m sharing it all – the learning, the bad, the ugly, the once-in-a-million surprise of something turning out like there might be a cell of an artist in my blood somewhere. I’m even sharing the ones where the paper got too wet; but hey – it’s a leaf, and they get waterlogged in the rain, right?? I think what I’m learning most is how to look really closely at every detail, and to be more like Fitz was: to want to dig into the world and take it all in without taking anything for granted. I’m also learning that though artists often make things look easy, things aren’t always easy. Take leaves, for example…..
True Leaves
Here’s a memo: you’re
not fall leaves any more than
I’m a fall human
so I painted you
as the true leaves that you are
when you’re going gray
Common Threads 