Time to Expand – Wyeth Walk #153
“Sometimes I believe I do not fit this life, this busy, bustling life. It does not allow me time to think, to expand, to grow naturally, slowly, healthfully.” – NC Wyeth, 1910
Amazing that NC Wyeth wrote this in 1910, right? We all imagine that our own busy, bustling lives are products of the 21st century – being pulled in all directions by activities, appointments, work duties, technology – where is the time for the art in all of this, time to expand, to grow…? I find it comforting that NC wrote this over a hundred years ago, when he also had two small children (ages 3 and 1 at the time). I find it comforting that perhaps he struggled with the pull of family and demands of little children, split between family life and art and perhaps on some days wondering how he could attend to spending time outside in nature, painting, thinking, writing?
Someone recently commented that it is amazing I spend the time on these walks and this blog. Well, perhaps I find it amazing too. It probably took six months or more before I finally found a good rhythm for my days – walk and photograph first thing in the morning before I do anything else, and before my husband goes to work, and then blog right before I go to bed, when all is quiet in the house again, the din of little children abated. I have found time and time again that when I don’t want to walk, when I don’t feel like pulling on my shoes, that if I do so, if I force myself to, the fresh air and the woods ALWAYS make me feel better. I mean ALWAYS.
I’ve thrown a bit of a wrench into the rhythm by starting up an early morning yoga class, but so far am still getting that and the photos in, perhaps with shorter walks on those days. Another wrench will come with the start of the school year. But, I’m sure we’ll figure it out as a family. No one wants “grumpy mommy” around.
On this morning’s walk, I was a little frustrated that the sunrise was hidden behind the ridge and there wasn’t good photo light on my trail. I realized that frustration was closing off “receive mode”, so I said “let me be a channel”… and then within the next 30 seconds the sunrise was framed by these vertical trees and the horizontal branches of a fallen tree, looking to me like a tunnel, a channel for the light… Without a doubt this experience freed my piano improvs later in the morning.
August 13, Chester County PA, temp 65F
(1) The Wyeths: The Letters of NC Wyeth