In my studio, after being hopelessly stuck trying to paint the rugged Waimea Canyon in Kauai, I surrendered and came back home to Iron Mountain, where I`ve walked a hundred times, not just once.
This past January I realized I had been running for 40 years. My brother Tom said it was fun so I gave it a try. In hand me down cowboy boots, I would run to the mailbox a half mile away on a dirt road to the farm where I was living. Being 19, I got into shape quickly. It has been the most reliable companion helping me through serious depression, addiction, near poverty*, broken hearts, and deep grief. It has always given me hope.
I ran yesterday in rainclouds, literally, and it was so beautiful it made me grateful for my life. What a wonderful experience it is to be thankful and not yearning as usual. Age and loss seem to be coaxing me to let go and accept the deal; no death, no life, it`s that simple. Take every day for the gift it is.
oil on cradled panel 20"x20"
*self inflicted, I could have always worked more but I wanted to paint. Completely different from true poverty
work in my studio
4 comments:
This is beautiful, and so is your philosophy on running & life.
Inspiring words as well as your wonderful art. True, running will save a lot of us won´t it....but 40 years...your heart loves you for it I am sure. I am off to do my three...
Beautiful reflection, Randall.
Hi Randall, I have been following your blog for awhile though I don't think I've left a comment. I enjoy your work tremendously. I found it interesting that you are also a runner. I've only been running for 32 years so I'm behind :)
You make a good point about life and death, a point worth remembering.
Post a Comment