Ebb and Flow
Oil on Wood
24"X12"
Is it the time of year, or the time of life? Or is it reading Susan Orlean's beautiful, "The Library Book" that has me swimming in memories of the past?
Her thoughts on memory and the meaning of life on page 92 and 93 are a reason to read the book, not to mention the bright red cover with gold lettering that beckons from the night stand at bedtime.
"Our minds and souls contain volumes inscribed by our experiences and emotions; each individual's consciousness is a collection of memories we've cataloged and stored inside us, a private library of a life lived. It is something that no one else can entirely share, one that burns down and disappears when we die. But if you can take something from that internal collection and share it – with one person or with the larger world, on the page or in a story recited – it takes on a life of its own."
I am holding that thought as the days come and go like the ebb and flow of the tide that shifts the sands ever so slightly making what was, new again.
