Henge

Henge 
Watercolor on Lana cold pressed, 2011
 8-3/4 x 9-9/4 inches (unmatted)
$450
email me to purchase

Long ago and far away (depending upon where you are today), teams of beings built great big structures with great big stones into well engineered designs. The last of these — at the end of the neolithic period — was erected approximately our present distance from point zero but on the other side (if you think about time in a linear fashion), 2000-ish years BC.

Who knows what henges were called in their heyday but the word henge is probably related to hinge. An apparatus for opening and closing, for entering and leaving, for attaching one piece of something to another. A swiveling thing.

Time, imagination, engineering, effort, and energy were spent on creating these special spaces. Probably highly sacred spaces. Maybe henges were cathedrals of sorts serving different constructs of experience.

Regardless of your belief system, there's no getting around the fact that we are at the end of one cycle of civilization and the beginning of another. This sort of passage can take centuries and it's almost impossible to judge a moment of history from the inside out but it sure feels like we are now in an exceptionally intense phase of simultaneous growth and decay. It feels like the hinge is swiveling.

I have always sensed autumn as a sacred passage. Each day opening to bright, clear blue, to crispy air, to rainy chilly running color, or warm exuberant flame. Our annual opening into seasonal death and rebirth.

Darkness is coming but not yet upon us. My sweaters and vests come out of storage but I can't yet put my t-shirts away.

I want to be outside all the time. Next best, have all the windows open!
It's an exciting time to be alive.
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2 comments:

joshemari said...

Hola Suzanne, no me inscribo a su interesante curso de pintura, porque aunque esté jubilado del trabajo, no me queda tiempo para seguir sus instrucciones. Lo intenté la vez anterior, pero sin éxito. Entre mis salidas de pintura, mis 8 nietos y el blog, no me queda tiempo para dedicarme a mí. Tengo dos casas y no puedo dedicarme a ellas. Están un poco abandonadas. Sí, sí, así es!
Pero sigo admirándola como al principio y su pintura y colores me gustan muchísimo.
Este de hoy, es precioso.
Un fuerte abrazo.

Suzanne McDermott said...

Mon cher joshemari,

la traduction espagnole de votre commentaire a été maladroit. La seule chose que je pourrais vous apprendre, c'est d'aimer et d'accepter votre travail. Tout cela.

Comme pour le dessin et l'aquarelle, c'est MOI qui pourrait apprendre de VOUS. J'aime ces croquis molles et aqueuses.

Les couleurs de taxi sont comme la table de salle à manger de Monet!

Avec une étreinte chaleureuse...