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The Journey

The Journey

The Journey

Although we can't be together physically, I have found that an amazing connection takes place in small zoom gatherings, and I'm optimistic that these workshops will help you develop skill and community in your watercolor nature journaling practice. Here is a list of I will present material similar to my in-person workshops through the use of an auxiliary camera that will allow me to give live demonstrations of techniques. Downloadable handouts will We will also share our pages throughout which is a great way to learn from each other and create a sense of community.

Kits: I do still require that you use my kit since so much of the workshop depends on the use of its contents. If you don't already have MY kit, you will need to purchase one on the Kits page. Once you purchase the kit, which will arrive within 3 days or so, you'll be given a link to a video of how to do the color exercises. It will be necessary for you to complete the exercises in the video before the start of class. *For those who already have a kit, contact me and I will send you the link to refresh your memory and skills.

Back to Poetry

Last Night the Rain Spoke to Me

by Mary Oliver

Last night
the rain
spoke to me
slowly, saying,
what joy
to come falling
out of the brisk cloud,
to be happy again
in a new way
on the earth!
That’s what it said
as it dropped,
smelling of iron,
and vanished
like a dream of the ocean
into the branches
and the grass below.
Then it was over.
The sky cleared.
I was standing
under a tree.
The tree was a tree
with happy leaves,
and I was myself,
and there were stars in the sky
that were also themselves
at the moment
at which moment
my right hand
was holding my left hand
which was holding the tree
which was filled with stars
and the soft rain –
imagine! imagine!
the long and wondrous journeys
still to be ours.

Poem of the One World

by Mary Oliver

This morning
the beautiful white heron
was floating along above the water

and then into the sky of this
the one world
we all belong to

where everything
sooner or later
is a part of everything else

which thought made me feel
for a little while
quite, beautiful, myself.

The Ponds

by Mary Oliver

Every year
the lilies
are so perfect
I can hardly believe

their lapping light crowding the black,
mid-summer ponds.
Nobody could count all of them—

the muskrats swimming
can reach out and touch
only so many, they are that
rife and wild.

But what in this world
is perfect?

I bend closer and see
how this one is clearly lopsided--
and that one wears an orange blight--
and this one is a glossy cheek

half nibbled away--
and that one is a slumped purse
full of its own
unstoppable decay.

Still, what I want in my life
is to be willing
to be dazzled--
to cast aside the weight of facts

and maybe even
to float a little
above this difficult world.
I want to believe I am looking

into the white fire of a great mystery.
I want to believe that the imperfections are nothing--
that the light is everything--that it is more than the sum
of each flawed blossom rising and fading. And I do.

And shouldn't we all?

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