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Painting with cold white

By Diana Shaw

December 19, 2013

She painted outside my window with white. Her cool breath came out of the northwest and she painted the trees and fence posts from that direction.


I often consider myself a painter but compared to nature, well, there is no comparison. She always overwhelming wins. My job as a painter is to help direct minds back to what is so obviously there, but until noticed in a painting, it is then they see it in their everyday reality. My paintings are but signposts pointing people back outside where all the original beauty emanates from.


This November morning before eight o’clock, the sun was rising and the world was dipped in the real purity of white, the first real snow fell during the night. It glowed and sparkled in the morning sun. After taking a few digital shots, the cold was coming up through my shoes and directly into my bones and I knew it was time to return to the warmth of my kitchen table and enjoy it through the big bay window. Call me a wimp but sitting on the soft pad of my rocking chair and enjoying the warmth of my wool fleece-lined slippers is a real nice vantage point and the hot cup of coffee isn’t bad either.


Today I will build our first fire in the fireplace in the family room and enjoy the heat it brings. As a child I always wanted to live in the country and have a stone house with a fireplace. Well for over 30 years now, I live in the country with open fields out my front window. Great neighbors on both sides. My house, a split-level running downhill is part stone with some siding, and no, I don’t have a fireplace, I have three. God was listening, married to the same woman for over 50 years, two sons, four grandchildren and one great-grandchild. I ask you to not pinch me. I do not want to wake up from this dream. I don’t have to walk far to be in the country fields, they border my property. I’ve spent my life being what I always wanted to be, an artist. Now I wish to share all that I have learned and experienced with others who are willing to listen and learn. I live, I love, I create art, I write and I play. As I said, don’t pinch me, I don’t want to wake up from this dream.


Now the world was again painted white and a new cycle of seasons begins, at least for me. Winter and cold for me is the beginning of the new life cycle. I hope to be very much a part of it for this next year. If not, I have been blessed all too much and I am thankful.