Tag: God is an Artist

Closure

I had a short day at work and took the scenic route to have lunch with myself. Pouring rain made the landscape of azaleas blooming that much brighter. It was Closure Day. I needed some calm.

I headed to Sedro-Woolley and stopped for coffee at the Woolley Market before heading to the bank to get cashiers checks. The bank ladies reminisced about my mom. “Sweet”. “Sassy”. “Funny”. I told them how much she had loved them. I always thought it was silly that she loved the bank ladies but they really are all so nice.

Say what you will about Wells Fargo as a corporation, each person I’ve dealt with in their entire system has been truly kind and compassionate with maybe one or two minor exceptions.

Next stop was The Flower Shop where I selected a big pink bouquet.

I showed the flower lady my art – the rendered photo of her shop that I have available in my Etsy store. https://etsy.me/2GibjAc. She loved it!

I drove out to the cemetery and told her I had finished everything. I had followed all the rules and kept all the records.

We closed THE ESTATE. Fitting it would be on National Siblings Day. I met with my siblings at our brother’s business and signed our releases and collected our Residual.

I drove to the law office and dropped off the final paperwork and went on the ultimate scenic, one my mom and I had done umpteen times.. through the tulip fields all over West Mt Vernon. I drove past my first full time job – Food Services Inc. it looks the same. My mom loved it when I worked there 35 years ago. She baked and spoiled the warehouse guys and truck drivers and so did I.

I tiptoed through the tulips .. the mud and muck .. so much stunning beauty. I stopped a million times. I talked to the cows. I declared to the Lord how absolutely beautiful his creations are. Oh my gosh he is the most amazing artist!

I stopped at the nursery and came so close to buying a camelia! That was my moms aunts name – one no one had ever met because she died at the mental hospital in the 1930s – of tuberculosis- where she was housed for having epilepsy. My mom got epilepsy in the past decade and I will definitely get a camelia in the near future. The petals will make the most amazing paint strokes!

I finished up with a stop at Tulip Town where they had Locals Night! Hadn’t been there in many years so this was a lovely surprise! Art and flowers galore!

I headed home and went out to dinner with my ever patient husband to recap my day. I am truly blessed and thankful for a bit of Closure.

©Belindabotzong2019

Glorious Sunset Moonrise

The shoreline is quickly crowded with viewers rushing toward a dazzling sunset

Cameras snapping over and over as others sit quietly basking in the glow of red, orange, and yellow streaks across the sky

There is a holiness to the hush as the sun dips into the sea and as if on a pulley, the full harvest moon arises in sync with the sunset.

Without realizing, the crowd is being awed by the creator of all things —

light, darkness, seasons, change,

even the ability to appreciate the gift of nature’s art

All created by a living, loving, masterful artist.

He is the Lord God who has lifted the same moon over centuries.

He has pressed the same sun into the same ocean of millennia.

He has painted the same sky over and over for time infinitum.

He has turned the pages of the seasons repeatedly over generations.

And still his most beloved creation, you, me, the homeless, the wealthy, the weakest, the strongest, the worn down and the high and mighty, all stop to acknowledge the stunning beauty and majesty of a sunset. A moonrise.

Who ever said, “how boring” as the sun blazed brilliant colors across the sky?

Who ever didn’t gasp at the enormity of a harvest moon in all its glory?

Who says it’s all just a monotonous routine, the rising, the setting, the brilliance, the tides, the change of seasons, the ebb and flow of life?

The stunning beauty of it all should ignite a spirit of praise within us that leads to complete devotion to the most high God, to the most magnificent artist, to the creator of heaven and earth.

©Belindabotzong2018

My evening

The kayak club cleared the beach with gusto heading out to dinner with friends, home, or even a vacation in Montana was announced with glee. He has a cabin in the sawtooth mountains where he plans to hike and relax for the last weeks of summer break.

The dinner cruise droned by after a tour of the nearby islands and disembarked its satisfied passengers at the nearby ferry terminal, heading home with that feeling one gets after inhaling an enormous amount of fresh sea air. Hair blown askew, stiffened by salty breezes, they make their way hand in hand to their Subaru, satisfied with their choice for such a grand outdoor experience.

A lone woman sits on a boulder at the quiet end of the beach. Her bike handlebars askew as she left it parked on the goose-poop covered lawn. Her forehead draws together in a frown at the intrusion of another woman taking a seat on a nearby bench. Solitude is clearly desired as she works through and ponders her troubles. The bench seated woman feels the discomfort of invading another’s space and moves on to a quiet spot to watch seagulls and sailboats and write about her view, snapping a few photos.

Jets fly overhead for their final approach to the nearby airport with those returning from trips around the country or around the world. They will disembark with that left over stale feeling one gets from flying too far for too long and they will breathe deeply the cool August day air and say “home sweet home”.

A helicopter flies quickly south, meaning another crisis in some family as a loved one is rushed to Seattle for advanced care and the patient will disembark on a journey through healing and recovery. Or not.

A train rumbles past filled with passengers all looking forward to either a return home or an exciting adventure beyond the routine of home. The incessant warning of the engineer announces their passing.

Multiple sailboats glide in the evening breeze like the seagulls that swoop and soar as the sun sets slowly beyond them. Some are racing while others take their time to embrace the freedom of being on the rippled sea, inhaling that same fresh air that will later lead to a deep restorative sleep.

The woman on the bench is now alone and there is a deep peaceful lull in the activity. Waves lap lazily onto the shore bringing her treasures to find. Sticks and stones, shells and glass. The beauty and artistry of nature in the perfection of an evening at the bay surrounded by the San Juan islands, the Salish Sea, the harbor, the beach and the sky.

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©Belindabotzong2018

God’s Studio

Famed artist makes a local visit

Splashing vivid tones across the landscape

A dizzying array

A wild frenzy

A fantastic display

Gradients and bold, bright hues

Shades of pink and yellow, orange and blue

Matching and contrasting

Grass, trees and sky

Filling my garden and pleasing my eye

That glorious creator of color

Blossoms and blooms

Frantically bless our senses

Delightful and delicious to behold

His creative hand and eye at work

In His studio called Spring!

©Belindabotzong2018

Sunrise Artist

With the sky as his canvas

He holds a palette of light and moist vapors in the crook of his right elbow

He uses his breath to pour out subtle hues on the edges of clouds formed by his left hand

He strokes the sun to ever so slowly lift its light and he calls forth the morning

He stands back and admires his handiwork and lets it slowly transform

He adds shimmering tones of violet and lavender in multiple layers then sprinkles it all with the golden light that pours from his puddle of sunshine

He swirls a finger through his masterpiece to scatter clouds across the eastern horizon

And touches the tips of the mountain range with sparkles of gold and silver

He blows a gentle breeze across the pristine blue water that pours from his artist’s enormous brush to become the rippled bay of sapphire

He fingerpaints the distant islands into the edge of the vastness of the sea

Smudged outlines far in the western sky

He tips his head back and lets a delighted laugh fill the sky with birds then turns his head to see the perfect spot for his deep pink and purple crocus to be placed among the flowerbeds waiting to be awakened at the sound of the artist’s voice

He paints with wild abandon in every shade and tone and hue

His heart pours its fullness into details unseen by anyone but him

He sets his palette aside to admire his creation

And submits another sunrise to the gallery of eternal mornings, pleased at his handiwork

He sighs and starts planning for a brand new sunset

©Belindabotzong2018