Happy 2025...
Or, let's do our best to see it that way!
UNLESS IT INVOLVES SQUIRRELS… NONE OF THIS CONCERNS OUR DOGS!
Cold and snow in the South, fires burning in the West, the hurricane force winds and waters of Helene destroying so much in the East, and Canada thinking that they may need to move further north to avoid us(USA)! The current socio political situation is far from being healthy. Will I be able to exhale in the next 4 years? I’m already blue faced.
These are all highly unusual ideas and events in normal times, but unbelievably, the truth, as this year begins. I honestly don’t know what to think about it all. But I am not interested in being consumed by the incapacitating worry that the ingredients in the negativity soup might bring on. Deal with them, yes, fight them, YES. But become consumed by them, NO. My heartfelt hope for things being better, and my deepest sorrow that they aren’t always, goes out to everyone who has, or is facing a life situation that causes pain or discontent. Whether caused by human kind’s nastiness, or Mother Nature, no one deserves any of this. More frequently these days it seems like no one, anywhere, is immune from the grief and sorrow that life continuously coughs up. I don’t know if it’s always been like this, but I suspect it’s been a lot worse at times.
All of the males in my extended family spent time fighting in one of the two world wars, Korea or Vietnam. My own draft number had me close to being drafted. Between the ages of 9 (1964) and 18 (1973) years old, when the draft began and ended, the possibility of being drafted was my world. My father and many of his friends went, I knew some of those friends who were taken as POW’s, or killed. And I knew other kids who went and didn’t make it home. Aside from the fear of being completely annihilated by nuclear war, the threat of being drafted was a major part of my childhood, of which I know many of you can also relate. The last draft call was on December 7, 1972, and the authority to induct expired on June 30, 1973. I graduated from high school June 1973 and turned 18 on July 20, 1973. There was a lot to worry about!
Even with all of that, life was still a ‘far out’ and ‘bitchin’ experience! I mean with youth and terminology like that, why wouldn’t it be? It’s more likely that the blinders of youth were just that, impairments to seeing and recognizing the reality of all the shit that was happening all around us. Both of my parents have passed, as have all of my aunts and uncles. I wish I could ask them questions about all of this, now that I am “of that age” that they were when my carefree “youthfulness” was running rampant all around them. As time moves forward, and the blinders become thinner, like my skin, do these things simply become more visible and easier to recognize, more likely to worry and piss me off? Probably.
I’m not the definition of a religious person, but I do have faith that the good in the human spirit will prevail in the end, which is what my early religious education taught me. I can’t tell a lie, I am an optimist! Optimism is a hopefulness, or having confidence in something, even if it’s not likely. I wonder how those who perpetrate the sorrow and sadness in life, on and to our planet, are able to see the beauty of life, or have they ever? I’m also a bit of a contrarian, and a realist. So it’s hard for me not to ask the question, and then realize that the answer is that they probably haven’t, or ever will.
So I selfishly paint so that my own spiritual welfare is at least nourished and enhanced by what I see as good and beautiful, letting the zeal of being a creative person thrive within me and reach out to be seen, if anyone is of a like mind and interested, so that I may pass on my own small joys to others.
Peace, love and good health to you all in this New Year!
I am in the middle of writing up a new post about painting! It will be coming later this week if you’re a subscriber. Please consider doing that if you haven’t already.
This is a 40”x30” acrylic painting on canvas that is called “Sunny Spot”. My next post will be about my being a little bit restless when it comes to paint, i.e., the type of paint I choose to work with. This is the last acrylic painting that I painted before the next 6 paintings I painted, two weeks after this one, which are all oil paintings. I’ll write more about why, and what I’m feeling about painting in the next post. Stay tuned…
If you’re in the path of this crazy weather enveloping us this week, be safe and stay warm. It may snow in Georgia, even here on Tybee. My X-country skis are ready for a first ever ‘Tybee Island One Man Ski Festival’ if it happens.
Keep your brushes wet!
Marc
Tybee Island, GA
Hi Mark, your email touched a nerve with me. I am 70 years old living in the UK. I have served in the military and for almost 30 yrs as a police officer. I don't think I have ever been so worried about the coming years as I feel now, and I lived through the Cuban missile crisis. I paint every day and realised a few years ago how much painting helps my mental health. I think we are fortunate to have such an outlet for our wellbeing. Best wishes to you and yours for the coming year and happy brushes.
Let’s hope we survive the next 4 years!