hoo, hoo, hoo....

...do you watch, who do you look to for inspiration? Who and what is in your sites? Do you have wide angle or tunnel vision? This great horned owl was watching for his dinner, sitting stoically in the midst of a wild summer wind storm. Even on his wind tossed branch, high in a desert tree, he was quiet. And yet, his head swiveled and turned, scanning all directions, just in case there was something out there that he wouldn't want to miss. Should this be the way we look for inspiration to fire our creativity, just like the owl on the hunt, looking all directions? Who knows what is out there if we really look?

grazing sides...

On a hot dry evening, my horses stood close, grazing together at the last bits of dinner off the ground. Yin and yang, dark and light, ripples on a horizontal plane. Exploring how to best show the lines and curves and shapes and colors and forms that emerged from their positions and my perspective was an self-imposed exercise in seeing. This effort pleased me and I'm certain future "looking to see" exercises will yield even more than these undulating grazing sides. Half closing my eyes, I can almost see sandstone walls cleaved with a deep shadowed canyon partially still light by the sun. What can you see?

a sense of boldness...

Here in the desert southwest, summer is a brutal time of harsh bold light searing the landscape, punishing every living thing with it's white hot oppressive heat. And still, within this bold light, bold cacti forms present some of the boldest biggest and most beautiful blossoms. This one, measuring six or seven inches across, was only open for one day on a very tall very spiny columnar cactus. In 24 hours it withered and within 2 days, it lay as dried up refuse on the ground. But oh what a magnificent sight while it was here. These bold plants with their very bold blossoms inspire me to push for boldness in my work, in my way of seeing. Summer is hard here but still ripe with reward and even promise.

the grey...

....with those dapples, all that implied texture in his coat and in his mane flying all around. Makes me want to touch him and feel those textures.

Transitions....

....from blue to green to white to yellow, from silky smooth to spiney sharp, from blinding bright light to dark shadows. All of these transitions and this seasonal transition, the mark of the saguaro cactus blossom signaling the end of spring and the beginning of summer affect me and entice my attention. Where does one begin and the other end? Sometimes transitions are so obvious they are like a slap in the face, other times they are so muted we feel a transition more than see it. Sometimes we do both. Transitions provoke my creativity. How do transitions in a broad or narrow sense affect your creativity?