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Over two years ago, I picked up a $.99 clearance plant at the grocery floral department.  At one time, it had been a beautiful, creamy white orchid, but it was then a shriveling, rooty splay of four leaves amid a clump of brown bark.  I took a chance and brought it home.  It spent a winter plumping up.  In summer, it thrived on the patio, and a was a healthy clump of five leaves.  By last spring, it had a little nub of a bud that in time became a stem.  Another summer outside, and the stem grew longer, with obvious buds of flowers.  A month ago, the first bud bloomed.  Following the first, another bloom, then another, until there are now six white blooms along the stem.  It should produce another three in time.  My patience, care, and attention paid off.

The past few months have been a crazy time for me, with many ups and downs, distractions, and trials.  I have fought with the time monster and gone to the studio regardless of the stacked laundry or the unvacuumed rug.  Some weeks I had to devote my efforts to non-art activities - "neccessary" tasks.  I had to wait, to be patient.  The images I wanted to create percolated in my brain, as I mentally critiqued, devised, planned, while doing what required my time more than my art. 

When I entered the studio, my mind was at rest, I knew what to do, and my hands pushed paint into canvas with assurance.  My art required less troubleshooting, less decision making, because the decisions had already been made.  I had been patient.  I had nurtured my ideas, my dream, and at the right moment, it paid off.  Patience has been a lesson that life has been teaching me for some time now.  I'm beginning to get it.

I have a group show in May. I've been working on fresh pieces, and pleased with where it is taking me.  I also have a serious family challenge that will take all my effort, my strength, and my attention that falls less than two weeks before the show.  But I know I will be ready, nonetheless.  I've been patient.  I've painted my works in my head, now I'm just waiting to connect time, materials, and joy.  It will come together as it is meant to happen.  And I'm at peace with that.  I'm patient.

Here in Atlanta, spring has definitely arrived!  Amid the azaleas and blooming dogwoods, temperate days and soothing nights, the blessings of spring lend legendary beauty to this Southern city. A drive through one of the older intown neighborhoods reveals banks of pink, red, white and lavendar azaleas, and the mature forests are sprinkled with white blooming dogwood trees.  The occasional bed of tulips or daffodils add strokes of color to the visual landscape.  Purple wisteria climbs the pines, releasing its sweet grape scent into the pollen-filled air.  The annual powdering of cars, streets, buildings, and noses by pollen-releasing trees and grasses reaches epic proportions here.  It is a true rite of spring. Rain washes rivers of yellow down the gutters, and the pollen invasion tapers off, the dogwoods drop their flowers, the azaleas begin to green out, and summer heat sets in.  It's not called Hotlanta without reason.  But for now, we are still in spring....surrounded by loveliness that only this bustling city of the South can produce.  Where's my easel?! The oils, and brushes!!