Sunday, April 30, 2017

Wind Howling

A thunderbolt woke me with a start at three AM. I had fallen asleep in my hotel room the evening before as the weather was rapidly changing to storms. Heavy rain pelted the roof and I could hear wind howling. I wondered about my artwork that was sheltered in a tent in a park at the Art Festival in Oklahoma City. Nothing I can do about it, I thought and fell back asleep. Later in the morning I made my way past broken tree limbs and closed streets with downed electric lines, nervous about what awaited me. As I approached the festival grounds I saw tent tops and hoped mine would be standing too. It was, and I lifted the canopy to find my work intact and safe.

"The Note" oil on board, sold to a collector from Oklahoma City

Despite the crazy weather that had summer like conditions some days and stormy winter conditions others, fate has looked kindly on my participation and I have had sales enough to warrant all my effort in Oklahoma City. I start home in the morning.

Sunday, April 23, 2017

Sign From Spirit

I usually say my obligatory prayers before bedtime. It is a Baha'i tradition to recite Allah'u'Abha, which means God is Most Glorious, ninety-five times at least once a day.

Yesterday was a full day and I was tired from preparing for a trip to do an art festival in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. As I sat on a wood chair in my kitchen saying the phrase (as I have done forty years now), I was looking down and noticed a small black beetle at my feet that seemed  to appear out of nowhere, walking slowly as if feeling its way about. I was barefoot and watched it go to my foot. I finished the prayer, rose and went in my bedroom to fall sleep.

In the morning I dressed, and went for my Sunday ritual of getting the New York Times, coffee and pastry, then reading at a table in the cafe. Afterwards, I went to my spa to swim.

After taking time in a steam room and swimming laps, I showered and was dressing in the locker room when, as I pulled my leg through my pant, I felt something—and out came the little beetle. It hit the floor with a click of its shell. I was surprised and amused. It walked along the edge of the locker room wall and stopped. I finished dressing, then bent low to scoop the critter up. It was not moving and I thought, "Must be praying for guidance." It tried to crawl away from my grasping fingers but I got it in my palm and closed around it. As I walked outside I felt the creature moving in my hand, but did not let it go until I reached a lilac shrub where I set it free.

I think the beetle appeared because of prayer and being a sign from spirit. It is a spirit guide harboring a message for me and encouraging me on my path. I am on the verge of transformation and also traveling.

"As a symbol of the spirit, the beetle carries messages that bring our attention to renewal, spiritual maturity, and the powerful influences of the invisible side of life." See: beetle symbolism

Sunday, April 09, 2017

Thankful For Confirmation

Recently an art collector called to give her credit card information so that she could finish paying for a painting I made in Venice, Italy. The subject is a lovely stone bridge with decorative iron railing spanning a canal. A restaurant with outdoor tables is in the background. I lived in the neighborhood where I painted it.

When the client bought it from my gallery in Santa Fe, New Mexico, USA, I was in Ecuador making art, photographing and writing. At the time, I remember being thankful for confirmation that I could live the life I love.

While the collector was on the phone with me, she mentioned another painting of Venice she had seen on my website. It is of a gondola passing under a stone bridge. We talked, and now she is buying that as well. Add this to the painting I sold to American collectors who visited my apartment in Venice during my sojourn there and that more than pays for the entire trip.

Today I felt great gratitude knowing that higher powers are in play. I throw myself at the feet of Divine Fate with absolute trust. It is a happy activity. I am very thankful that I live my passion with trust—and see results.

At another moment today I heard myself say, “Thank you Lord for what you give, and thank you for what you take away.”

To see more Boone art click: Steven Boone

Sunday, April 02, 2017

Power In A Picture

The expression, “One picture is worth a thousand words”, has special meaning to me as an artist—most of my life is visually inspired. I have stood painting in silence for countless hours. No words transpire but the pictures that arrive speak volumes.

In silent wonderment I have experienced the earth in its many mysterious expressions. In my archives are tens of thousands of photographs from many travels around our globe. Occasionally I come upon one that warrants a closer look. The photo from Agra, India, included here, is an example of a picture that can elicit a story:

It does not matter who the figure in the foreground is, she is everywoman. Standing on a balcony, dressed in a simple and elegant white sari, her flowing robe disappears into the dark shadows surrounding her. Her hands rest on a protecting barrier that offers safety from accident. If she were to fall she might die. She is wrapped in thought and reverie, pondering her life on the threshold of a dream. The place she stands is remarkable, at a ledge—as if at the prow of a grand ocean vessel, taking her forward into a vast unknown. She is above the fray, at the level of the treetops where birds sing and monkeys play among the limbs. How has she arrived at this moment in time? Where will she advance next? Maybe she is simply breathing in the moment with no care to the past or future; exhilarated being on the edge of something bigger than her.

Behind her head are many rooms. Each is connected, has its own vantage and holds its own integrity. All are part of a greater whole, yet are independent. They could be storehouses of her mind. And when she has passed through each of them, she will arrive at a tower that is not limited. It is above all, and offers a viewing point that is not circumscribed. It is a place of clarity and peace. But it is not easy to arrive at.  Many doors lead to it.

Our woman is in her process. She stands in shadow but is robed in white. She is on a journey of many levels in a place of wonder.

These are the words that come to my mind as I ponder the image. The story can extend to a thousand words . . . this is the power in the picture.