We went to Texoma again and I attempted a different option-less fishing rods and tools, less
frustration and much more relaxing. The stripers were breaking the water again and my son did really
well, me not so much but I did get to relax. I decided to intentionally take a break and just enjoy being
on the water.
The waves were a bit intimidating, the wind kept messing up the surface and sending white caps
against our hulls. We stayed in a small cove and fished for a while until the wind got so strong we
were being pushed into shore. The satin grey waves reflected an intermittent cloudy horizon mixed
with a beautiful cerulean sky. There is something amazing about drifting with over the waves and the
cool breeze was a welcome change from the oppressive summer heat.
So my suggestions on how to change the feeling of stress and frustration to a peaceful beautiful day
on the water. First of all, don’t bring too many rods and too much equipment out on the kayak, try to
be a bit less complicated. Second, the stuff you do bring out, make sure it is in some sort of organized
state. Don’t use fishing line that tangles frequently-there is a certain type of line I don’t think I’ll be
using any more. Finally, bring snacks in an air tight box and keep nourished and hydrated. Doing all
of these things made a much more relaxing trip even though I didn’t catch any, it was a great day.
I was raised catholic, something that is somewhat synonymous with guilt and conscience, granted I think it was more filled with guilt and a sense of “never good enough” the generation before mine but I do get the idea of never quite measuring up as that perfect squeaky clean believer. This is not a review or commentary on the particulars of religion so before you close the page, feel at ease. This is a post about guilt and conscience-the good, the bad and the ugly.
As a basic idea guilt is something I feel is our morality compass, it tells us when we are straying or not doing what we feel is right or honest. Guilt can and has become something that gets under our skin when we feel guilty about not getting enough for our families for holidays or felt like we didn’t handle something the way we should have-this kind of guilt tends to cause our neurotic tendencies where we are always on the fence with what’s right or wrong and there are always family members that feed whether right or wrong into our guilt complexes we develop over the years. Guilt is pointless if we can’t do anything about what we are guilty about, there is a certain point where we need to leave that guilt behind and move on.
What I am writing about is the good guilt-the good guilt that these days has been painted over with rationalization and the old excuse life is too short. Guilt keeps us from doing what we shouldn’t do, regardless if it feels good or it’s not my fault. I believe there is right and there is wrong and unfortunately if you rationalize everything and justify everything you do, guilt takes a back seat to rationalization. I recently heard a commercial about a show about mistresses and the introduction was about it being a personal journey of discovery-your not cheating, your just discovering yourself-how quickly something wrong becomes something almost heroic. Another option-life is too short to put your kids first, you need to enjoy your life-you deserve it. All of these rationalizations allow good people to stray from what they think is wrong to justify anything that feels good.
I talked with a friend recently about woman and men being friends-I believe they can be friends but there needs to be a sense of respect and honoring each other first-with respect and sense of honor it keeps the relationship from going somewhere that would not be positive or right for either. This brings me to another aspect that we as a society have somehow lost-a sense of the acting exceptionally-we see this in our politicians and with a bit of tears and an apology they are back in politics. Shouldn’t we expect the highest standards of morals from each other and our politicians. We should but when we rationalize everything and make everything gray, there really isn’t nothing right or wrong-it has to do with what you feel at any given moment.
Before you think I am being sanctimonious, I am not standing in judgement of anyone, nor do I think any of us have that great position to judge others because we all have our character problems. What I am saying is that guilt is not such a bad thing and rationalization and justification is a slippery slope. I feel like these days being empowered, we are empowered to do what we want because life is short. I think a little bit more guilt and a bit more expectation of a higher standard of moral character would go a long way in our society today where we are desperately trying to remove all expectations from our kids, our politicians and our society. There is right, there is wrong-guilt is the compass that keeps us on a path we can be proud to share with our kids and their kids so maybe we’ll have to apologize less.
It’s summer again and summer track is over for the season. Against my better judgement, we got up at four AM and headed off to Texoma for a day of fishing. All I can say is we picked the perfect day. We were all amazed how we were actually cold in the middle of July. The fish were very strange, at first I thought we would have a very successful day but they came and went quickly, my nephew caught five and I caught one-the schools were very quick and sporatic.
I did something I don’t often get or take the time to do. While watching for schools of fish breaking on the surface, I actually stopped and just enjoyed watching the water. Being a bit of an albatross in a kayak, I really have to be careful not to get myself all stressed out with tangle lines and hooks and the ever present danger of tipping myself and the kayak into the water.
I did try to turn to get something and almost did flip the kayak but quickly recovered and decided to slow down and enjoy the weather. The water was cool and gray, the horizon was barely discernable from the water and the clouds made the sky a hazy, almost impervious blanket. There is a silence out on the water at this time, no boat motors, no cars or traffic, just the sound of paddles breaking the surface of the crystal clear water. I took the time to watch the great blue heron that squawked in a tantrum as I spooked it from its perch. The rain fell on the surface and multiple halos of water droplets broke the stillness of the water. This is when I do remember, it’s just being out here, catching fish is just the icing on the cake.
I realize that I have a hard time stopping and taking the time to relax, life is so fast and I seem to always be comfortably in the fast lane. So today, we enjoyed the rain, literally soaked it in, enjoyed the concept of a chill in July and took a moment to appreciate the beauty of time and the experience of nature, I highly recommend it.
This is the final of the previous series. These are the last odds and ends, from sketches to basic ideas. If I were to sum up the previous series I would probably say the water and night idea on steroids-I believe I have been developing a style or place that tends to be the landscape with a particular study of how darkness and light interplay on the landscape. I have gathered the last few images together to close the series once and for all, basically because the new series is creating itself quickly in my mind. I am in the process of buying large canvases as the most recent series is creating itself in large images instead of the smaller as previous-I am actually getting back to a way of painting from many years earlier when I tended to always envision paintings larger rather than small.
I don’t think I have ever thought or planned more clearer since this series. I think it is probably after clearing older thoughts and paintings that had been on the to-do list for many years. Now it seems to be a great rush to accomplish the image almost as quickly as I see it, the great thing about this is it seems there is more clarity and the painting pretty much creates itself. I have gotten the act of painting down to where a painting can take as little as a week to complete instead of sitting on the canvas for months waiting for that final cue to finish. Although I have become a bit less critical of every painting, I have also become much more open and clear on what the final vision needs to be. I believe its a more rewarding experience when the piece becomes quickly before my eyes almost as if it were painted from life.
The first painting is from a trip to Rockport-it is one of the final remnants of the cleanup series as resurrecting old paintings that were started or attleast designed years previous. The second painting is called the bus stop-this image was centered around the tree which made itself clear and stayed untouched for several months before the final image solidified. I wanted the image to be more of a image of the moon and a tree in the light-the people are the secondary thought but they tell a story of strangers forced together out in the middle of nowhere-the city where they are all headed is hinted in the distance-you can decide who is going where and what each do-kind of a people watching piece.
Another aspect of my paintings is snapshots of places I’ve seen that are not necessarily important or even significant but they caught my attention for some reason, that is the image of a church in Rockwall-again the image created a story of who is in the city or who is walking the streets looking out across the water-I consider this more like a sketch than a finished piece.
These last few paintings tend to be a bit darker than previous which is why they are more like loose ends of the series-sometimes you have to exaggerate to completely iron out the style and image going forward. Included in this collection are images of my son fishing at the local park, again which became more like sketches than final pieces but hint to the images that are coming shortly. The image of the park with the water in reflection is a hint of the departure from realism and an attempt at a more expressive direction. The fishermen is almost an afterthought and the viewer is forced to see the reflections in the water in a way they might not have appeared previously.
The image of tenkiller in Oklahoma was a very quick sketch after coming home from my recent trip-it was quick and immediate and even still did not capture the clarity of the water that I was attempting. I continue to perfect the clarity and depth of water and in the next series there will be lots of images of the ocean from the most recent trip to Cape San Blas Florida.
The last few in this series are of a field after rain, an image I have studied for many years, again it is another way of looking at and capturing the feeling of the reflection of water. I am working between the three planes of water, the depth of water and the objects beneath water, the reflections of what is around water and finally the color and texture of the water itself which is often overlooked because it tends to be clear, usually there is a twinge of color of the water itself which I want to show.
The final of the series is a willow tree in a nearby park that was captured when my son was fishing, I would sit and sketch and that’s the image that created itself. I am excited about the new series and unfortunately for my attention span there are so many images I’m not sure which to approach first but the images and overall effects are very strong and it will just be a matter of sitting in front of a canvas for a bit and the work will create itself. Thanks for looking at my series of paintings, any input would be greatly appreciated.
What do we call home? Is it the place we are most content and welcome, does its style and decor say something about who we are and when we leave our childhood home, do we ever find that same contentment? I lived in the same house for eighteen years, when I left I don’t think I ever missed the house as much as I missed the neighborhood, the landscape and obviously my friends. I moved to Texas from New Jersey and I had missed home for many years following the move but it was the landscape and the actual state more than anything else.
I have not had that feeling of being so happy to live in a place for many years. This changed when I had a family of my own, suddenly I realized during a trip back home to New Jersey that my home was actually where my family and sons were. I was in the Newark Airport and couldn’t wait to get back to my house in Texas-the ideal of home became family, where ever your loved ones are is where you live and belong.
After being divorced, my world had a strange scattered feeling of living in a house and living in a bit of interim. I’ve never felt that feeling of settling in and I almost feel since leaving home as a child I have never fully settled anywhere. Now, it’s my son and I, where ever he is for now that is my home, even though the original feeling of being safe and content isn’t the same. It’s my job to make him feel content and belong-as he grows and starts his own life, college, his own family-my idea of home will change once again.
I look forward to living in a place that feels like I belong, where contentment is just spending time enjoying my space-not sure where that will be but I figure life is a journey to learn and realize where you fit in the scope of people, places and things. Until that day, my life tends to revolve around my son and I as we explore and experience all we can with every vacation or as time allows.
Where do you consider home? Have you ever felt that feeling of settling in and making a place home. Do you think we belong a certain place and when we find it we just know it? Would love to hear your thoughts and comments.
This post is about creativity and how it pertains to writing-stories versus poetry. I have been writing poetry since I was ten, the freedom of free verse allows words to flow without being edited or altered. I will usually come up with a title or a general theme, the words would flow through a basic initial impetus but would create their own meaning from a subconscious state. If I know or realize what I am writing, the flow is gone and I tend to ramble between images and colors without a clear agenda.
There is a fermentation of ideas that seem to write themselves, collected from various snapshots from multiple images and ideas from the previous days or weeks. If I stop to realize the process or even write down any words or ideas, the idea is usually broken and the flow is interrupted.
I have recently realized the same process with short stories with even a more dramatic departure. I have always had some sort of concept or idea where the poetry will flow toward, with the short stories it seems they have their own beginning and end but I am not always aware of the final product. It’s kind of like watching a movie as you are writing the script. You are playing in a scene and writing the process and atmosphere but you only have small bits of information to work from and the more I write the clearer the final process begins. Again, I feel it is a subconscious state that I write in and the connections and comparison are not often clear on the initial thought, symbols and ideas become images and lessons that seems to create themselves, I just sit back and watch as the story creates itself.
How do you create words, do they flow subconsciously or do you craft them from a conscious state? Do you see a difference between the two forms of expression? Any input would be greatly appreciated.
Cape San Blas, good news, bad news-it’s off the grid and that’s the only thing possibly negative, otherwise the surrounding landscape is amazing. You are fifty miles from the nearby Walmart, decide what you’ll need and bring it there otherwise risk a lot of driving for anything you need. It’s an oasis, a faraway place where you are surrounded by the gulf of Mexico to the east and the pristine waters of the bay to the west. The water is crystal clear, the areas to fish, snorkel and just get away are just incredible. On our arrival, the first reviews were mixed-it’s too far from everything but it is beautiful. The longer we were there the more the feeling of peace and detachment grew and the more the beauty of the place captivated us all. There are long strips of road with the bay on one side and tall amazing pines and palm trees silhouetted against a crystal clear turquoise backdrop. Everywhere I looked a new painting practically created itself, I am in the process of buying very large canvases for the images that I sketched out and in the end I plan on having a whole series dedicated to Cape San Blas. We stayed in a condo that overlooked the ocean with a balcony in every room, the sunsets were amazing, the breezes across the water in the morning and evening were fragrant with the smells of the ocean and the silence was only broken by the sound of tree frogs and native birds in the many beautiful trees that surrounded the campus. Conveniently located just down the street was the St Joseph Peninsula State Park, this is where we did most of our fishing and snorkeling.
There are so many different places to see and experience, we saw a eight foot saw fish, a giant conch, many deer that seemed indifferent to our presence and the treat of a manatee in the waters near Mexico beach. We kayaked and snorkeled around the jetties at the state park and enjoyed catching speckled trout up and down the beach as the broke the surface chasing bait fish. Luckily for us the weather kept at bay right up until the last few days but we were able to do all of our outdoor activities. Another experience that I have never seen is a breaching manta ray-my son and I were on our kayaks and both of our jaws dropped in disbelief. The seafood in the areas is very fresh and delicious, we were all able to get our fill by the time the week was over-a notable favorite was Sunset Coastal Seafood-If you like lobster, I would highly recommend the lobster ravioli. We were a bit early but if we could have stayed a few extra days scallop season was just beginning which made it an interesting time to be there. Another point of interest are the sea turtles that call the area their home, we didn’t see any but they are known to lay their eggs on the beaches near the park.
We visited nearby Mexico Beach where there are restaurants and beautiful white beaches. This is where we saw the manatee and got to see some wonderful sunsets. We also enjoyed amazing sunsets along the coast. We visited some gift shops and checked out the pier and the jetty. They call this area the forgotten coast and the fact that you don’t find crowded beaches and bad traffic I understand why they called it that. It’s a bit further down the pan handle and a bit off the grid but it’s exactly what I look for in a vacation- I came back with much to write about and many paintings on the sketch pad. I would highly recommend getting off the grid, even if it’s just for a week. Walk the beach, find things, fish, kayak-try Cape San Blas-definitely worth the exploration.
I feel like I have had a block both with writing and painting the last few months, maybe I shouldn’t complain because previously I had an amazing run of both paintings and writing so a block should probably have had been expected. Well a vacation can bring about the creative impetus an artist needs to rekindle that creative spark.
I will be painting a series of twelve paintings of the intercoastal sunsets and storms. I am excited because the images are all larger and a bit dramatic. I am experiencing a clarity and focus because the images that I am envisioning are very moody and include large skies and lots of light and shadow that have so recently been observed. I will be buying large canvases for the process and the images are so fresh in my mind, I don’t believe I will have any problem just showing up and letting God have the brush.
I will want the viewer to have that moment of hushed silence, the feeling of watching terns hover in the sky and the silence of the wind blowing across crystal clear swells. Again the idea isn’t to capture happy moments, but not sad or somber moments either-just the intensity and drama that brings beauty to darkness, mystery to the whisper of wind across the horizon and that haunted moment when we realize there is something larger than us moving the waves and controlling the magic behind a sun descending in a late afternoon sky.
Here we are again-this time on the ocean or I should say the bay. We went to Cape San Blas in the Florida panhandle-it was the best and worst time on the kayak. The first time was amazing-from the moment we left the shore, it was beautiful crystal clear water where you could see stingrays, bait fish, and needle fish swimming in and out of the sand and fauna of the bottom. The sky was a bit intimidating but we still paddled cautiously. We found the sand bottom surrounded by the grass beds with bait fish disrupting the surface and running just beneath the surface.
Immediately the water came alive with trout breaking the surface and we were on to fish. I enjoyed the peace of being out on the water, the sun shined through the surface and the coloration of the water was like Champlain, I was so in my element, several fish were on and it seemed we could just fish along the weed beds and find fish breaking-it was an absolutely wonderful day that seemed to end a bit too abruptly as we had to go back for lunch.
After that perfect few hours of fishing, the weather finally made good on its threats. The next day we got out early and the thunder and lightning hung on our shoulders the whole time. We decided to fish from shore. We were lucky enough to see a saw fish running through the bait fish and my son caught a flounder on a spoon. I got to enjoy walking in the surf until slipping on a rock made me more like a shark attractor and decided it was time to fish from shore. A bit of stress and aggravation but still wonderful. Just seeing the saw fish was worth an early morning of fishing.
The final day and opportunity to fish was where the wonder and beauty became exhausting and overwhelmingly aggravating. We spent hours in the rain, the cold drenching rain and a wind that made us completely forget the humidity that we complained about earlier that week. Finally after hours of walking in the flats and casting to what seemed like empty waves we finally got our kayaks down and were ready to give it another try.
From the moment we left the shore, the wind would move you quite a distance so I should have known at that point it would be a bumpy ride. I had lost count on how many times I was pushed one hundred yards or so out to sea and had to paddle back to everyone else. I felt that it would be appropriate for the one out there braving the waves would catch all the fish but I was skunked just like the others in my party who decided to fish from shore. I just got an amazing workout and casted again and again to bait fish that seemed to have nothing beneath them but weed grass.
We had all returned to shore and were about to give up on the day when we saw fish breaking close to shore, we decided to give it one more shot. My son ended up with a four pound trout and immediately following a missed hit I started my journey much like atlas moving his rock up the mountain only to watch it roll back down and start the process all over again. I would throw my lure out to the school and after realizing my lure was tangled, I would attempt to untangle it and by the time I was untangled I had drifted back out a hundred yards or so, paddle in and start the whole process again. My son had “borrowed” my pliers and I was left with line that I couldn’t cut and a set of treble hooks stuck in my life vest, the more tired I would get, the more stupid mistakes I would make. I continued the process, sharing colorful language with all of the bait fish that seemed to just be teasing me at this point. I am very surprised that all of the rods came back in one piece and not sunk to the bottom of the bay. I did stop my tantrum short of throwing myself over the edge of the kayak.
Two very exciting things that my son and I got to witness during the whole process was an extremely large ray jumping out of the water and a life conch the size of a small dog on the bottom feeding along the sea grass. All in all-an amazing trip and my sons wonderful trout that I was able to capture on my phone camera. All I will remember was the amazing water, the incredible scenes and watching my son bring in the trout all the frustration will have evaporated much like the storm clouds that eventually dispersed. After leaving the water I looked back and the calm bay seemed like it was mocking me but it was an amazing trip none of us will soon forget.
Artbygordon: Original oils on canvas, Original pastels on paper celebrating the beauty and mystery of nature. Water and night skies are my specialties.
