I've been thinking about 2012 as the year of the dragon and the bliss in serendipity.
I'm struck softly as I paint round and oval stones, reminded time and time again, how if I get still enough they will tell me their story. If I rumble through the ride, we'll get nowhere. It's best always to just let go.
I had to trust the first white dots on the stone above. On an exhale, the first spiral made. I reserved judgement until we'd walked the path together and found again, in the lightest shade of pink, the road leading home.
There is something different about this group of thirty stones from Homer. Perhaps it's the intention in which they were selected. Or maybe it's the spirit of those I'm painting for calling them home. Either way, I have quite a feeling. Ten left to paint.