On Sunday there is my morning walk to the West Liberty High School along a beautiful bike path, past community gardens and a grouping of exercise equipment. All this should be mentioned too. Along with the extreme coffee assortment at Local Grounds. And maybe I should refer to the Barn Dance I witnessed but did not participate in. The young Indonesian puppeteers from the Moonlight Puppet Theatre had a great time.
A review of their fascinating performance of Mwathirika is a must. Mwathirika tells about genocide and loss and grief. It makes me cry as I hug the young woman who is the author of this story of war and family tragedy. As I look around me after the show, the High School auditorium is filled with puppeteers and local citizens who are moved to the core.
The brain that has experienced all these events and believes it has absorbed what it wants and no longer desires to bring thoughts relating to Part Two to my attention, that brain has moved on to a Paint by Number set of a Japanese Garden.
Somewhere in my notes it says that Mariela requires three backdrops for her confessions/performances.
A dreamscape moderated in shades of pink. A pink bed with pink and white pillows. A white nightstand and chair. A white pink-striped wall, a large floor-length window that leads to......a Japanese Garden. And white gauzy curtains to both sides, fluttering in the wind.
A Nightmare, expressed by dark and scary-looking monsters in a grey, disturbing, hopeless outdoor setting. It should reflect some of my own nightmares of getting lost in a wilderness and not being able to find my way back, even though there are doors everywhere and sometimes even people to ask for directions.
A reality check. Dr. Steinfeld's modern office with small old-style velvet sofa, some plants, a window that opens to A lovely garden, and an indoor tree for the good doctor. He likes standing under a tree. It gives him insight. Since the reality check includes light moments of a dreamy quality there should also be a small patch of nightmares to ponder. Maybe a big, ugly and dangerous dog who, because he belongs to a scene with a psychologist, can be befriended and tamed.
For now I am working on the dreamscape. It is a Japanese Garden that comes with one brush, 24 paint pots, and a preprinted (with tiny numbers) art board.
My friends are polite, not quite scolding me for buying a paint by number set, but letting me know that I am expected to come up with an original.
"Your mother would not approve of this."
"You paint well yourself, without numbers."
They cast a quick look at the scene, then change the subject.
I try to explain. Certainly there is no artistic value in trying to stay within lines. I have to wear glasses, use a magnifying glass, paint when sunlight hits the kitchen table. But it is an exercise in endurance. I've already invested nineteen hours. My back hurts. My right hand cramps. My eyes get blurry. So I won't ever climb Mount Everest, but I will soon have finished a perfectly dreamy Japanese Garden for Mariela Sinti. White curtains will be hanging on each side of the open window. Mariela will point to the lake and remember the carefree days of her pre- teens.
This is the picture on the front of the Paint by Number box
This is what I have "painted" in nineteen hours.
