Day 04

Day 04 – A picture of your night.

Oh. It said night, not knight.

Well, so there’s my night. Once again, a highly interpretive little thing, “a picture of your night.” I tend to like to sleep at night. Thus, a picture of the inside of my eyelids. But you know, part of sleeping is dreaming, so I thought I’d share something else. I dream in color. Not always, but when I do it’s pretty cool. And it looks like the ceiling of the Opéra Garnier in Paris. Without the goats.

I really love the colors that Chagall uses, only, the floating goats are a little too much. In all fairness, though, this is actually my favorite Chagall painting:

It’s called Self-Portrait with Muse and I fell in love with it when I first saw it almost 30 years ago. In fact, I had been rather tepid about the Chagall museum until I saw this painting up close and contemplated the origins of inspiration. I explain it a little here, and am reminded of another painting, too. Many years later I  would go full circle and encounter a very different painting, this one by Rembrandt, St. Matthew and the Angel, and I suppose, with my refined (read that older and mature) sensibilities, found it moving, more so than when I first saw the Chagall. I was drawn to this Rembrandt painting at a traveling Louvre exhibit in Atlanta, and circled back to it several times, drawn to the Angel.

Years passed between the time I saw the Rembrandt painting and I thought about writing again. Something remarkable happened and I started making a connection between my own writing and the Divine source of that inspiration. It wasn’t a cascade or domino effect, but a gradual awakening, guided a little by a mortal muse, but a muse nonetheless.

By the way, the real picture of my night, in case you missed it, is a little trip into my head…

 

the fridgerfrater

My refrigerator always had my kids’ artwork and school work and every other kind of important document produced for them and by them stuck at precarious angles by weak magnets and ready to slide off if I opened the door too quickly.

If it was a rite of passage for them to have their masterpieces posted there, it became a rite of passage for me and the empty nest to see them slowly start to disappear.

These days my expensive stainless steel refrigerator, a symbol of my now “grown up” house, has nothing posted on it (partly because it won’t hold magnets, but mostly because the kids are grown).

Not today. Soldier Sally has sent us a beautiful coloring book drawing. Of a weird unicorn thingie with turtles on its back. And a crazy butterfly intent on flying toward dragons.

It’s better than a Rembrandt.