For sixty-three years I’ve ground myself
within this karmic mortar. Yesterday I washed
it out and put it high on the pantry shelf.
From Braided Creek, by Ted Kooser and Jim Harrison
In art, and in life, we have plenty of past to beat ourselves up over – the hardest person to forgive and accept is ourselves. That painting we did that was just bad, that sketch of the building that looked like who knows what – these do not define us as an artist or as a person, unless we let them define us. They are moments and we would do well to stop grinding them up and move on.
At 75 I still get that mortar down off the pantry shelf too often, so this poem was a good reminder, I hope it helps you as well.
theTravelsketcher 
Wise words.
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Thanks, but hard to do for sure.
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Thoughtful words and I love your sketch!
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Thank,you so much
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Good words!
BTW I had a go at the squares and colour – I wasn’t very impressed with my efforts but will give it another go but must get a better brush (I know a bad workman always blames his tools, but in this case I think this would help!).
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Good for you, but the beauty of the system is you can’t do it Wong, thanks for letting me know.
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