“Gratitude” 8×8, oil on canvas, framed
Towards the end of last year, I started a gratitude practice: a morning stream-of-consciousness ritual of writing down and giving thanks for every thing that comes to mind without censure or editing. I am often amazed at what comes up– descriptions of the leaves dancing on the trees outside my window, the colors of bricks, the raised eyebrow of one of my kids, certain slants of light, dog noses, the taste of a perfectly ripe blueberry. I shied away from such practices before because I thought I’d usually just have the same (amazing but boring) three things: family, friends, health. When I turned away from the broad strokes and zoomed in on the tiny, there was never a shortage. My lists were long, and I rarely made it past my very immediate surroundings. I started walking through the little world of my neighborhood, even up the steps of my own house, with more wide-eyed wonder.
For today’s painting and poem, I tried to hone in on just one of those things from my gratitude practice and see what would come of it.
Gratitude
For open skies
Highways of wind
Along which there are
No signs
Two birds the color of sunrise
Lift their prehistoric heads
Raise their pink sails
Take off into the rush hour air:
Bright flashes in see-through clouds
Like a sign
like a wonder