I've been working on this piece off and on for about a week now. Layers of watercolor, varnish, gold flecks, acrylic, and gelato pastel. It was beginning to feel a bit aimless, although I'll admit that I've learned to trust the process. Just as in life, I can't rush things that are already in divine order.
Today, I finally felt compelled to cut out some leaf shapes using yellow paint. And with that one move, all of a sudden the haziness found its focus. Instantly, I felt a movement, as if the final piece had been set in place. As if the lens turned just far enough to find the thread.
The shapes began to swim, and I swam in their energies. I felt the flow, and the fish called to take form. And even then, it took another brave step with the blue pastel to bring them not just into form but into DEFINITION. To define their direction, to channel their energy into a container that has a new trajectory. That gives them PURPOSE.
I've been noticing how hesitant I myself have been to choose a direction (what if it's the wrong one?), and these fish have emerged to remind me - and you - that whichever way we swim, we will float. But in order to float, we must swim.