Alone, with art

"Alone," 5 x 7 140 lb Fabriano Artistico extra white cold press paper

"Alone."
Feeling alone and being alone are not the same.
"I feel so alone," I said recently. I'm sure others are, quarantined, or worse, having health or financial or more ruined. 
In these pandemic virus days of plague, racism and political chaos, it's easy to feel alone, cooped up, estranged. 
But there is another alone, being alone, which you can also treasure, actually an escape from feeling alone, or overwhelmed, or suffocated.
Today's #WorldWatercolorMonth prompt "Alone" started these thoughts.
And as I thought about painting, I remembered how solitude, being alone,  is essential for creativity...no matter what kind. 
Being alone is essential just for thinking within, for imagining. And then when you begin work on some form of art, I find, and others agree, that the world and its problems goes away...I am alone with what's before me.
Today's image game gradually, while I had some alone time. Then it was influenced by recent reading of n astounding watercolor artist's work and book, which was also alone time. Branching out alone,  I decided to take some risks with the way I paint. (There is very little color here--complementaries contrasting and emphasis on light.) And yes, some of the risks worked, others did not, so there are more risks to take to improve.
This afternoon, as I began work, and continued, I was alone. Thus the painting of "Alone."

Alone in distress, and calm

"Alone, and calm," 5 x 7 watercolor, 140 lb. Fabriano Artistico cold press paper

 Facing threats to his life three thousand years ago, a poet wrote, 
"Turn to me and have mercy, for I am alone and in deep distress."
 -David, Psalm 15:15

Alone.
In many ways in this pandemic, we are all alone, and in deep distress.
You can hear it in the noise of public announcements, in the anger and unsocial comments on so-called "social media," in the continuing barrage of more and more bad news.
Self-quarantined. Cooped up. Losing money. Out of work. Homeless. All this and more is piled on to the other anxieties that we have to deal with on a regular basis.
We are infected with distress, with worry, as our perceived securities seem so frail. 
In such times humanity has traditionally turned beyond the physical world for reassurance, for comfort. The great spiritual leaders throughout our history, including those today, have emphasized that out of hard times and trial, both individually and culturally, are necessary to eventually give birth to greatness and calmness.
Every crisis brings out not just the worst, but also the best of this species of ours.
You can see it in help and tenderness offered on social media. You can see in as families come closer together.
You can see it if you look around you and listen to nature, and other species continuing to live.
I'd noticed more and more Robin song in our back yard recently. Then yesterday, Susan spotted a Robin's nest tucked under our eave on a downspout, with a mother Robin perched in it.
Alone. Tending to life. Carrying on.
There is beauty here, and hope and security in reaffirmation of life.
Thus today's first watercolor.

Alone

"Alone," 5 x 7 140 lb Fabriano Artistico cold press paper

Alone.
There are times you can be in a crowd and feel alone...a sojourner in a strange land...left out, stranded, almost numbed by constant noise and inane numbers of fast flowing time. Those are times when being alone can be a synonym for lonely.
Then there are also times when you need to be alone, alone with your thoughts, away from the crowds, away from the noise...then you're not left out, but slowing down  and alive to your senses.
Thus it is when painting, as it brings back memories.
I think of being in lone canoe in still water, touching the wood of the  the paddle, smelling the odors of water, listening to the wildlife, watching  the landscape.
That's when being alone isn't being lonely. It's been a long time since I canoed, but feeling alone prompted today's watercolor...alone in a canoe, with a lone bird as the lone moon rises.

Alone -- 11 days 'til Christmas

"Alone," 5 x 7 #watercolor card

It's easy to feel alone in seasons like this.
The Psalmist prayed long ago, "Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted." (25:16)
For those who are not alone, or lonely, 'tis the season to reach out like that lone star of the Gospels, to try to bring warmth, and the spirit of Christmas to those who have not.
Let the stars remind us of that.

Five days 'til Christmas--alone

Abandoned Oklahoma homestead, 10 by 13 watercolor, from a photo

Gloomy day, windy, cold, a time to remember what it's like to be alone, alone as an abandoned homestead rotting away.
There are ghosts, memories, sadnesses, regrets, all awakened when you come across such a ruin, a metaphor for broken lives.
In the midst of winter, a time of death, it is good to think about being alone. It helps you to value being with family, loved ones, friends at Christmas. 
Is that not what Christmas is all about--not being alone any more? For there to be a time of joy and togetherness, there will also be a counterpart, gloom and loneliness.
Yet as we gather, knowing we need each other, don't forget those who are alone, for whom here in Oklahoma and around the world, there is unending gloom, people who are rotting away, abandoned--for whom there is no togetherness. 
Is not what Christmas also is all about--bringing hope to those most in need? Was that not what the original "Christmas" was all about?

To be alone...and miles to go

       "The only other sound's the sweep
          of easy wind and downy flake.

         "The woods are lovely, dark and deep.   

         But I have promises to keep,   

         And miles to go before I sleep,   

        And miles to go before I sleep."
            --Robert Frost, --"Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening."

It's so important to be alone, to be able to be alone. I thought of this this afternoon, watching the snow fall and silence the hustle of the city. You can't be a photographer if you aren't inspired by snow to take photos. You can't be a journalist if you don't relish a little time alone, to think, to imagine, to wander. Snow does that for me.

Our world doesn't want us to be alone, and does everything in its power to prevent it. Constant noise, intruding technology and diversions. Organizations burden you with paperwork and rules to keep you from private time to think. Thinkers cause problems. Rules keep them drugged. Privacy is becoming obsolete. I treasure the walks, the sounds of silence.

When I walk in Hafer Park, rare is the time when others aren't there, and when they are, if not in company with another person or pet, they're plugged into a music device, robbing them of the sounds of the trees and grasses and creatures.

How could I not think of Robert Frost's poem, and as dusk fell, go down to Hafer Park for a few photos of this season's rare snowfall. It was so quiet, so alone.

Such a shame, to divorce ourselves from nature,  from reality, to be not alone. There are so many miles to go.