05 October 2012

A Painter's Eyes and an Artist's Heart



I am discovering that I have the eyes of a painter. What do I mean? I am starting to see the world in a new way--in terms of colors and forms and lines and compositions, rather than constantly making the mental translation from form to object. When I look at the changing orange leaves on a maple branch, I see terra cotta and pumpkin specks over a deep espresso crooked line--rather than orange leaves on a brown trunk. In other words, I am beginning to see with my eye, rather than my mind.


I first noticed something different in my seeing this summer, while whizzing past highway hills covered in wildflowers. The patches of varied greens interspersed with soft lavenders, deeper eggplants, shocking yellows, and subtle pinks made me want to stop the car on the spot and immediately learn how to paint landscapes in oils. Since then, I have been practicing mindful seeing as I drive, which leads me to stop driving at times and try to capture what I am seeing. (All of the photos in this entry were taken with my iPhone and filtered through Instagram.)


I am also discovering that I have the heart of an artist. I deeply feel the things I see. I can be overcome by a glimpse of subtle beauty, such as a single yellow leaf clinging to the tip of a branch silhouetted against the grey stormy sky.


I remember driving to work one morning in early September. I rounded a bend and was deeply affected by the view. The golden, slanting light filtered through the foliage and dappled the mature greens of late summer. It was breathtakingly sublime and my breath caught as my heart filled with deep joy and gratitude of the beauty of our world.





It's a wonderful gift--this transition I am experiencing in my eye and my heart. And one that I want to honor. I'm going to begin studying photography, so that I can capture more readily these singular moments that steal my breath away. And come spring, I'm going to begin learning to paint landscapes. I'm ready and excited for the challenges ahead as I stretch myself to capture in paint and pixels that which I see and feel.



4 comments:

Deborah J. Milton said...

You already have the artist's eye, the poet's heart, the compassionate beingness of being alive on this wondrous and delicate planet. yahooooo for you and thanks for inspiring me.

Jill Marie said...

Kimberly that was a beautiful post :) You touched my heart with your words and your photos!

Kimberly Davis said...

Thank you Deborah! I've so missed your wisdom and presence.

Thank you Jill Marie, I was opening myself up and am glad it touched you.

Mary (Marikio) said...

and what a gift you have - your photos grab my eye, but also my heart