Posts Tagged ‘Ridglea’

A Little More Watercolor “Construction” on the Ridglea Theater

February 26, 2012

Work on the Ridglea Theater in Fort Worth, Texas

Good day to all of you.  I am sitting in my Garage Studio with my eyes half-shut!  I slept 12 hours last night, but only 3 the night before.  It has caught up with me on this gorgeous sun-washed Sunday afternoon.  What a tragedy.  Friday’s humanities class at my high school was an absolutely magnificent moment for me, though we also had plenty of laughs, reviewing for an exam that showed the students didn’t absorb nearly what I had hoped for them.  But Friday afternoon left me awash in desires to explore Kant, Rousseau and some of the Neo-Classical painters, which I did.  Then the urge hit late, late Friday night to do the foundational work on this full-size Ridglea Theater watercolor.  I retired to bed at 3 a.m., but rose again at 6, and went back after it.  Following that was a band rehearsal (we have an engagement in a week), then more work on the watercolor, and then a late Saturday night.

My third cup of coffee isn’t doing it for me.  I’ve been reading extensively from Rollo May’s book on Paul Tillich, titled Paulus: Reminiscences of a Friendship.  Here is a portion of the text that resonates with me right now:

Such intensity of consciousness is a real problem.  One cannot have peak experience all the time, nor does anyone want to.  Hence the infusion of Hindu meditation in our culture to give a constructive tone to solitude and to stop the machinery for a little while.  Alcohol also serves to do this; it is a requirement, as Harry Stack Sullivan put it, of an industrial civilization, where it sets up a state of a partial withdrawal from the mechanical pressure. 

So.  I’m pursuing neither Hindu meditation or alcohol.  Just reading, journaling, listening to the gentle breezes outside my open garage door, and chipping away further at this Ridglea Theater watercolor.  It is a most beautiful day out, and I am “amost” out, sitting 10 feet inside my open garage door with the sun beside me, jazz music playing on my stereo, Paul Tillich’s ideas surging through my being, and a watercolor emerging beneath my excited brush.

Hopefully, I’ll post more later today.  Thanks for reading.