Wearing thin. . .

Benjamin Bunny, oil on panel

Just like the old bunny featured above (painted last week) who lived with us for several years in Orlando,  I too was "wearing thin" last week.  The horror of the destructive storms in Alabama (the state of MY birth),  the necessity of the "long form birth certificate" and ensuing media weirdness. . .then the Royal wedding paralleling the suffering of so many. . .well, I was beginning to think I'd like to get out of this boat. 

Seriously, it seems we are shielded from nothing anymore. . .ranging from scepticism to downright lies, to pandering and questionable motives, to  a tugging on the heartstrings that will eventually leave you in a puddle wondering how in the world you can help, what can I do?  That feeling of helplessness in the midst of crisis circles the heart and squeezes hard.  .  .we don't hear enough of the good stuff and even the relishing of the Royal wedding and a young couple's happiness was oddly tinged with conflicting emotions and that "frenemy" we call guilt. 

Then last night while listening to beautiful classical music and drifting off to sleep, the radio surreally announced in the dark that the President would be speaking shortly. . .I jumped out of bed and sat transfixed for the next couple of hours as the world learned of the fate of bin Laden. 

 Oh no. . .more conflicting emotions descended. . .I'm squeamish about "celebrating" the death of anyone, even a monster it seems.  I attribute this to having had a husband in Vietnam and having watched and felt the death of loved ones, or perhaps it's simply my continuing advancement in years and purely being sick of all the killing.   

Point:  the heroism/courage of our Special Forces and our President spoke loudly and clearly to those who do little but heap and spew criticism.  

Still waters run deep. 

 The constant analyzing of everything, the constant "BUT" is enough to wear anyone thin. . .top that with the economy, jobs, weather and gas prices.  Not to mention the everyday little things that happen in our personal lives, and our highly self-annointed expectation of having everything done RIGHT NOW; we can and do easily brew up our own storms.   

Well, it can make painting pretty pictures seem totally ridiculous.  Therein lies the crux and pull of the innermost thoughts of this particular painter. 

Today the sun is shining, my check is off to the Red Cross, I have spoken to my daughter this morning and I will begin work on a new painting. . .yes, wearing thin indeed, but still hoping for all good things in the world and being gateful, grateful, grateful for having the privilege of another breath.  When we continually ask for explantions about things, I often think we are totally missing the point. 

 After all, we are living on a planet. . .spinning in the Universe. Can we not see the big picture?