Help from on high

"From on High," watercolor, 8 1/2 x 5, 300 lb d'Arches rough press paper

When you need inspiration,  "Go to Work!" yell the experts.

The muse shows up when you work, even when you're in the doldrums, when you're in a valley. Don't actually work, just play around, and see what happens. 

"Put butt to chair, pen to paper, and just write" has been an axiom for writers and journalists. I know of many times in writing, I would get the nut graph, and then a lead, and somehow, by the end of the article, the appropriate  conclusion would somehow just show up. I think that's the muse, help from "on high."

Creative people in every area probably have similar experiences. (Aside--I irreverently wonder if that happened when Yahweh created the universe, not knowing exactly how it would go and turn out? Picture the Spirit saying, "Hmmm, let's try this next and see where it goes." No wonder "He" rested on the seventh day.)

I do know it is true in painting, especially watercolor, the medium you want to have some control over, but can't control. And, when you're in the valley, and nothing seems to inspire, or there's no energy, the answer often is, "Just play around," for help from on high.

And for me, I think of the Psalmist, who asked the same question "...where does my help come from?" with

"I lift up my eyes to the mountains...." ---Psalms 121.1

Sort of my mantra too, and even in Oklahoma, as a child of New Mexico and the West, I can remember, dream,  and imagine, the mountains are inside me.

Thus today's playtime watercolor, seeking help from on high, in more ways that one.

Southwestern sunset, watercolor

Southwestern Sunset, watercolor, 6" by 11.5", 140 lb. d'Arches 

Inspiration, like love, comes you seek it, when you work, most of all, I think, when you need.

Today's watercolor, the first of the month after July's daily challenge, comes on a rainy day, when I knew I needed to paint, for me. After a week of "vacation"--minimal writing, no blogging, no painting, but drinking in love and family and landscapes on a 2,500 mile road trip, it was time. 

Inspiration is internal. I find it many places, including the broad vistas of my beloved Southwest of rich colors and dry air, in travels, in love, and from my father.

I'd found this old pencil sketch of my Dad's, Terrence Miller Clark, done no telling how many years ago, of something he saw in his road trip travels. He saw beauty everywhere, and he could capture that beauty, in landscape, in portraits, with a talent that stuns me. I'm thankful I have a smidgen of his spirit and soul. 

This one's for you, Dad. Thanks. May we one day paint together again.

Pencil sketch, 3" by 9.5"--Terrence Miller Clark