Blue Day

Today I was privileged to attend the funeral of someone I only met once, but who is precious to people who are precious to me. It was a tender service, full of loving tributes, sweet expressions of gratitude, and that most unexpected of feelings at a funeral, hope. Hope for a future reunion, hope for healing, and hope in a kind of life that doesn't end just because it seems to. I am grateful for faith, which when linked to hope, allows for grieving without despair. I will be praying that this dear family will continue to feel hope and love as they watch the sun come up and see that it is, miraculously, still beautiful.
 
I was glad to have that hour of spiritual quietness today, because the rest of the day was full. I just finished my assignment for tomorrow. It's too late to be painting, but here I am. The design objective was to use one cool color mixed only with white and black. I mixed up a deep sort of turquoise as my base color and started up very frustrated that I was getting going at 10 pm. In addition to the homework,  I have a few new things on my to-do list as of yesterday (new calling-secretary to the Young Women's presidency), and I spent the afternoon today trying to play some catch-up getting old projects out the door to make room for the new ones.

Breathe. 

In spite of the lateness of the hour and the fact that I can't quite go to bed yet because one more thing that has to be mailed tomorrow is not quite done (I can get away with blogging because it is in the dryer as I type), I like this little painting a lot. In fact, if I could, I would buy the original that I found online but alas and alack, it is 1600 British pounds. I just love this artist's work. Not in my budget, however, so my rough little student interpretation will have to do.

But there is another reason I really like it. Tonight while I painted, something new happened. Perhaps because it was such a tender, thinking and feeling kind of day, or maybe for some other reason, I got completely lost in the process of creating. I felt everything else in the world sort of fall away and it was just me and the moon and the music I had playing. It was like I entered this landscape each time I put the brush to paper. It felt like waking up if someone came and asked a question or said goodnight, but as soon as I started painting again,  I was walking through moonshadows and KNOWING exactly how to mix up the right colors and fill in the blank spaces of my little world.  It was restorative and helpful and didn't feel like homework.

A funeral and last-minute homework. Hmmm. Gifts come in the most surprising packages sometimes.