A BURIED MEMORY

Oct 23, 2020

      In order to catch a wee hours flight to a wedding in Maryland on Saturday, I woke to a buried and forgotten memory...an early chilly morning memory...

      So vivid, I pictured my 10 year old self walking onto the wharf of our family's camp, staring at the light slowly rising behind the palmettos on the opposite bank of the muddy river...
      The swift current carrying crispy leaves one by one in sweeping horizontals...the water moving at its steady pace...

      The leaves were on their path to the point at which the river gasps open to the lake...only a mile if they could escape being caught by driftwood popping out of the water or a curve in the Siren bank drawing them into the shore...

      I thought the memory must have occurred in autumn or winter as there was no boat disturbing the surface with its obnoxious wake...and too early for even the birds...just the leaves were awake with me...

      My paintings are supposed to be spontaneous, unplanned...but they must be coming from my memories. I can pinpoint some and directly relate them to my childhood. Others are not that easy.
       I can only wish to one day figure out what thoughts are being dredged up in my work and pray that they are as poetic as these...