One of my favorite movies is "A River Runs Through It." It is also a wonderful short story by Norman Maclean. This painting was inspired by the last scene of the movie, where an elderly gentleman is fishing. Here is the excerpt:
"Then in the arctic half-light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a four-count rhythm and the hope that a fish will rise. Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over the rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters."
That passage reminds me, for some reason, that the Bible says there is a river coming from God's throne, and God's voice is like the sound of rushing water. Oh, how I love going to sit by rivers.....
Well, we're back from a week's vacation out in the glorious "Wild West." We went to Flagstaff, Sedona, Jerome, the Grand Canyon, and Phoenix. Everything is spacious there. You can sit in your car and look 360 degrees as far as the eye can see. I was amazed at the varieties of cacti, and of course, the "dry heat" I had heard about. We also drove up the Apache Trail. The best part of the trip was our trek to the river. I snapped this picture of my feet dangling in the cool, clear water of Oak Creek Canyon. Just after snapping this picture, I noticed that the rock under my left foot was shaped like a heart, so we had to bring it home with us. Am I the only lunatic that packs their suitcase full of rocks and sticks for the return trip?
I am really in a yellow polka dot bikini phase right now. I keep hearing the song in my head. This painting is the third I've done on old record albums. Those black vinyl babies bring back such good memories for me. I used to have a huge record player in my bedroom, and I'd put on a stack of records and turn up the volume so my sister could hear in her bedroom next door. My poor mother! Although when Helen Reddy sang "I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar," mom sang along!
I once read about a woman seeing a message sprawled on a Paris sidewalk. It said, "The city of Paris is full of beautiful mysteries, and you are one of them." I never forgot that story. I began to think how wonderful it would be to spread love and joy by writing beautiful messages on sidewalks with chalk. That idea has evolved into the original poetry I often include on my art, and is the reason I call myself “The Sidewalk Chalk Prophet.”