I swam in the river, dried off and sat on the perfect log. I always feel different, more a part of the landscape after swimming.The view overlooked the turn in the river, mountains behind, each silhouette a different shade of green and blue sky. I dab new colors, manganese and cerulean blue on my palette. Ahh, I was so inspired. I looked in my bag. My carefully packed brushes, one pointy, one flat were not actually carefully packed. They were not there. I looked around. Several different types of fluffy weeds and leaves grew by the log. I tried a sprig. The first disintegrated. I tried another style of weed. Eventually I painted this landscape with fingers, weeds and twigs. The act of creativity and observation makes me feel at one with the land, the way swimming does. The picture wasn't the fabulous depiction of the scene I had at first envisioned but I like the scratchstrokes and the energy of the marks. I thought about being satisfied with the experience of sitting in the wilderness just being part of it.
