I sat in City Hall for much of yesterday afternoon in order to get a Building Permit. Then, I crawled home on Deerfoot Trail because of an accident somewhere near Anderson. Max and I did a quick neighbourhood walk and then, crackers and cheese in tow, I headed back down to the core for the Rumble.
It’s nice when you just ease into ‘the house’. I had been looking forward to painting my great blue whale and buoy throughout the week. The image has been alive in me and the outcome of this remarkable animal, caught in a web of fish net out at sea, has been concerning. The story, as covered by the news, has just dissipated with the calling off of the search.
It was a peaceful evening, painting. The gathering was small, but productive. One of the inspiring pieces was a poem from Maya Angelou, titled Old Folks Laugh.
Old Folks Laugh
They have spent their
content of simpering,
holding their lips this
and that way, winding
the lines between
their brows. Old folks
allow their bellies to jiggle like slow
rise up and spill
over any way they want.
When old folks laugh, they free the world.
They turn slowly, slyly knowing
the best and the worst
Saliva glistens in
the corners of their mouths,
their heads wobble
on brittle necks, but
are filled with memories.
When old folks laugh, they consider the promise
of dear painless death, and generously
forgive life for happening
by Maya Angelou
The line that would be incorporated into my piece would be, “When old folks laugh, they free the world.”
We can’t see beneath the surface of the beautiful and endless oceans. We do not take pause and think about the rivers that are constantly finding their way to the sea. A mirror, the water reflects the sky. There is a forever-drift of life beneath the blue. But, we forget. In all of our wild consumption and progress, we do not remember the life that gasps for breath, but is hidden from us.
Last night, I wanted to meditate and to remember. Thanks to Benjamin who purchased this piece at auction.