A work in progress

Nov 1, 2010

My sweet father -in- law is an artist.

In a previous blog, I mentioned how when
we went to the beach, he chose a place 
to sit and sketch 
a beautiful scene.
He worked at this every day for several hours, 
lifting his pencil horizontally 
in his outstretched hand,
one eye squinted,
thoughtfully gaging 
the proportions of the scene ahead of him,
oblivious to passers by (well, most of them :)
and small children putting sand on his chair.

And when we returned from the beach,
he made our porch his studio,
the Jarabacoa valley his back drop,
and continued to work on his picture.

He used a postcard to mentally
take him back to the exact location
he sat, beneath the canopy
of dangling branches from a mangrove tree.

This is where he sat.

This is the rendering right before
it was packed in his suitcase.
I can't wait to see the finished one!

All of this made me think about
how intentional he was
about incorporating art 
into his daily life.

I'd like to do that - somehow.

This also made me think about 
how I am a work in progress,
and how I need to yield to 
the master.  
I am undone 
at being undone.
But it's okay.

1 comment:

  1. Oh girl I hear ya. SO a work in progress. Thanks for sharing...obviously I love to him in action. Wow!


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