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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

The Sun

by Mary Oliver

Have you ever seen

anything

in your life

more wonderful

than the way the sun,

every evening,

relaxed and easy,

floats toward the horizon

and into the clouds or the hills,

or the rumpled sea,

and is gone--

and how it slides again

out of the blackness,

every morning,

on the other side of the world,

like a red flower

streaming upward on its heavenly oils,

say, on a morning in early summer,

at its perfect imperial distance--

and have you ever felt for anything

such wild love--

do you think there is anywhere, in any language,

a word billowing enough

for the pleasure

that fills you,

as the sun

reaches out,

as it warms you

as you stand there,

empty-handed--

or have you too

turned from this world--

or have you too

gone crazy

for power,

for things?

The Swan

by Mary Oliver

Did you too see it, drifting, all night, on the black river?
Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air –
An armful of white blossoms,
A perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned
into the bondage of its wings; a snowbank, a bank of lilies,
Biting the air with its black beak?
Did you hear it, fluting and whistling
A shrill dark music – like the rain pelting the trees – like a waterfall
Knifing down the black ledges?
And did you see it, finally, just under the clouds –
A white cross Streaming across the sky, its feet
Like black leaves, its wings Like the stretching light of the river?
And did you feel it, in your heart, how it pertained to everything?
And have you too finally figured out what beauty is for?
And have you changed your life?

Song of The Builders

by Mary Oliver

On a summer morning
I sat down
on a hillside
to think about God –

a worthy pastime.
Near me, I saw
a single cricket;

it was moving the grains of the hillside

this way and that way.
How great was its energy,
how humble its effort.
Let us hope

it will always be like this,
each of us going on
in our inexplicable ways
building the universe.

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