Some Mornings Are Better

Sunday morning I walked the exactly one mile down the hill from our motel to the harbor in Grand Marais, Minnesota. The morning before I'd done the same thing - walking and journaling (yes, you can walk and write at the same time) and saying "Good Morning" and "Hi" to people coming and going on same path. Took photographs and thought thoughts both days. Different thoughts different pictures each morning. Was so focused on walking and writing the first morning that the second day I was surprised to see a whole long stretch of fencing right to my side that I'd not even seen the previous day! No real big deal - just a thought of focus.

The Grand Marais Art Colony takes fine care of us artists. Some perks are  hot coffee and tea and way too many very good donuts. I had planned to visit the World's Best Donuts shop a few blocks up the way, but, darn, the artist reception room was already open in the motel (yes, we can use a real restroom!), so free donuts trump pay donuts in my world.

Time to grab a sketchbook, pencils, tea, donuts, and some space on a lovely large rock. The whole of Lake Superior was in front of me. Time to close focus. A row of rocks made perfect subject. The bag of colored pencils came out and the looking and gauging began.

Yes, I ate a donut before drawing. And sip a bit of tea. And watched some people and their poodles.

But back to the row of rocks. I chose four or five, and their smaller companions, as subject. No blue on this page. But even so small a view offered large challenges. Relationships between rocks thought duly noted became simply not correct when first lines were committed to paper. Ya think yer doin' stuff just perfect till ya look again and NO!  Angles are off, values and ratios, too. How can this be? Even being seriously careful the eye and hand were drawing wrong. Even drawing slowly the looking long needed more longer looking. The tiny viewfinder in the brain was fine, but the awareness needed exercise. On to it, then! Light and shadow, cracks in that large boulder to the right. Don't forget to note the millions of small beach stones between boulders and lake. And then remember to quit drawing, have a last sip of tea, and go set up the booth for the day.

This short bit of free time on the beach must be remembered. The drawing is in the book, the sunblock is in place, there is lots of the day ahead.

I forget to treat, allow, force myself to have these lovely short retreats more often. Roz Stendahl would have you "force" yourself to the time for drawing. I do agree. It's the doing. It's the doing. And back at home I must remember to find the retreats here. Priorities? We forget while piling on the other doings.

Today, treat yourself to a well-earned retreat. Twenty minutes of doing something just for the haibut. It will do your heart-spirit more good than putting away the laundry RIGHT NOW. The laundry will feel lighter after you've sketched it - ha!

Maybe almost every morning can be A Better Morning. Back to yours and back to mine.

Best of Luck and Fare-thee-well,

Sue