The signs of the changing season are upon us. The once bright green leaves of the trees are becoming earth-green and the needles from the pines are falling. The sky keeps it deep colour longer into the morning.
It’s Sunday and I start to cycle into the centre of the city to paint a watercolour. As I pass, I can see mothers pushing their baby-carriages, a dog pauses under the tree cover in the park to watch a nearby bird, people in couples or small groups talking about the political situation or some private affair. All kinds of moving vehicles appear momentarily in my vision; electric trains, Segways, bicycles, pedal-driven carts, motorized wheelchairs.
The perception of physical life is daunting and wonderful. How can I capture it and hold it for more than its fleeting moment? Why would I want to?
The spirit within us is immutable and infinite while our body is changing and finite. The reality we can perceive eludes us as much as maintaining our own bodies youthful. Artists can try to capture something of the material experience but usually in vain.
It occurs to me that as I sit and try to immerse myself in this world, I become aware of the transcending value of what stands before me. I think that I am trying to infuse my spiritual self into that world through a work of art. The reality that I perceive, which is transient and indefinite but measurable to my eyes and ears, is in contrast with my spirit which is immutable and invisible. I am trying to keep reality in a bottle. The present seized in an unchangeable state.
