I have been feeling sad lately, horribly, horribly sad. It’s a combination of a few things.
This is the time of year I begin a sort of mourning. I mourn the year that has passed. It must be the dying leaves, the way they fight and struggle to keep their color before falling and swaying into time. Their fight is gallant, it pulls the brightest and most magnificent colors out of them each year but in the end they fall.
It might be the change of weather as well. There is always a day, a morning or an afternoon when I go outside and the cold hits me hard. It shoots through my nose and into my lungs. It makes my eyes water leaving me to blink to cover the sting. It’s the day when the cold slowly crawls inside my body, nestles in and draws enormous power seeming pleasure from just being able to send a chill down my spine whenever it pleases.
I have also missed a dear friends wedding, had health, friendship, love and learning issues pushed violently to the fore recently. If September is the beginning October is full throttle ahead, the bumps and curves begin to appear and the paths less traveled become blurred. The valley is long behind and nothing but mountain surrounds the view.
It is the time of year when I think the most of what has passed. Of what I’ve accomplished, missed or regretted. There are those that say don’t waste time with regret, guilt and pain but I think they are heartless. Everything must be thought through and considered even the worst of thoughts.
I also think of the joys, the luck and good fortune of having made it through another year. There is always a day I step in the shower and cry. The warm water mixes with tears, trickles to my feet to finally spiral into the drain. It is then when the water has disappeared and dried, when I am fully dressed and ready to leave that I convince myself to keep pushing on. I have no other choice. I am here; we are here, by choice and decision.
It was around that day that I stumbled across a picture of Winston Churchill in the gutter. It was actually the flyer for the Churchill Museum in
Before me sat an empty canvas and I had no idea or inspiration of what to paint. I looked at the shelf where I keep my paint bottles and chose the first one that spoke to me. It was red. Slowly I started to see why I chose red. The first layer was too red. The next layer was too pink. Into the third layer I found the shade I was looking for. Finally with a fully red canvas I stood back. I was happy. I thought about stopping there.
I wasn’t satisfied. Something was missing. It needed more, something simple. I started from the bottom corner and worked my way along the right side. Slowly a man started to appear. It was him. I saw him half way through his vest. I rushed to the picture, pulled it from my bag and finally saw him fully. I finished the painting quickly. I left it red and black. Now satisfied and a little confused I went to bed.
Today, I went about my normal business wondering why I was suddenly overtaken with the need to paint that man last night. It wasn’t until I googled “never, never, never” a few minutes ago that I began to understand. The first link leads to Churchill’s never, never speech. I clicked and read. As I read it became clearer why I painted what I painted.
On 29 October 1941 he delivered a famous speech. Some parts are dated but as I read it a couple of sentences seemed to be destined for me. He said, “You cannot tell from appearances how things will go. Sometimes imagination makes things out far worse than they are; yet without imagination not much can be done… surely from this period of ten months this is the lesson: never give in, never give in, never, never, never, never-in nothing, great or small, large or petty - never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense. Never yield to force; never yield to the apparently overwhelming.”
Fascinating huh? Shocking coincidence huh? You mean you don’t understand? Are you wondering what I’m trying to say with all this? My point is simple really: never, never, never call leaves gallant, nestle with the cold or full throttle a valley behind with long bumps and curves. If you do you will forever remember the guilt, pain and the horrible
What!? That’s not what I was trying to say.
Whatever you know what I mean. Enjoy the painting and your day.