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| This Painter’s Rag |
Oh those were the days!
When fascination was at every corner of your eye, waiting for you to take a few more degrees of that angle to embrace it.
What happened? Depression, I feel, as the largest beast consuming of one’s joy, can’t or shouldn’t be blamed for every interest lost.
Methinks we let interests settle in our memory like melting ice cream, good now to catch a dripping and then meh…onto the next.
This avenue of thinking is what happens to me when I go through old photos, desk drawers, and/or email accounts. Remembering the fascination of the ideas back then is refreshing, and in some ways, sad.
My painter’s rag in the photo, for example is taken at a time when I was fascinated by close up photographs of simple objects. I don’t remember when that fascination faded. I know it did by the absence of such pictures in the last few years. Memory holds that I was also fascinated by ice cubes in a glass, grape stems, dry corn stalks, fading irises, and pebbles.
As time consumes my years, I now use cheap terry cloth wash rags instead of scrap fabrics for my painter’s rags.
Well now, I think I’ve found another simple object that fascinates me.
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| Also This Painter’s Rag |
