Dive Deep

The artist vocation is to send light into the human heart.” – George Sand

On a rare downtown visit as the summer season waned, I found myself sitting on the Vancouver Art Gallery Cafe’s terrace after a tasty lunch eaten underneath huge patio umbrellas listening to soothing classical music. We had a refreshing rain that morning and the lush foliage still glittered in the pale sunshine as we ate. With the warm air, jewel-like hummingbirds and noisy starlings flitting about, it was the perfect setting for writing a line or two before heading to two free art exhibits still sitting on my summer wish list, fast becoming an autumn list.

The first exhibit called Appearances was at the nearby Pendulum Gallery showing the work of a talented artist (Jianjun An) capturing the immigrant experience by weaving the symbol of a white mask into each painting. When I first observed the paintings I did not notice the masks but on closer inspection, I was delighted to see parts of people’s masks peeking out from bags, blending in with one woman’s careful makeup or casually tucked into clothing – the only painting without an obvious mask was the larger than life laughing face of a grandfather lifting a happy child up in front of his face (a keen observation made by a fellow patron). After a wonderful interlude, I made my way home to pop into the Listel Hotel to wander through the Sculpture Gallery East to feast my eyes on a collection of edgy photographs that caught my eye ending what turned out to be a rather inspiring day of art appreciation!

Another exhibit on my wish list was to check out Cabin Fever at the Vancouver Art Gallery on one of the Tuesday night admission by donation days, I recently made time to walk through the various rooms housing life-size structures smelling of freshly painted wood with cut-outs representing windows where photographs of peaceful forest scenes projected on darkened walls made me feel for a moment that I was on a fall getaway. It was a joy to look at old books under glass, classics written by the likes of Thoreau and Kerouac as well as mythical copies of Popular Mechanics and Whole Earth Catalogues enticing us from city pursuits. As I continued to walk through the exhibit, my eyes taking in the many photographs and architectural models of cabins from here up in Whistler, down to California and across Canada to Ontario – my travels to these very same places made it feel like I was re-visiting old friends.

Walking home with a beautiful sunset smudging a still blue sky, I reveled in the evening of culture I left behind, ever thankful for the donation days allowing those of us living on simple budgets to enjoy some much needed cultural space here in our busy city. As I neared my mother’s downtown apartment building, I saw her neighbour Sarah who quickly invited me up to her own creative space to see her current art in progress, decorating the lovely wooden wine boxes that previously housed this year’s Bordeaux offerings that the public can pick up at the front entrance to any local liquor store. A call to my Mom inviting her down and a nice cold beer added a delicious note to the evening.

I’m diving deep as the lushness of summer gives way to the mosaic that is autumn, there are windblown and rain-drenched leaves creating a colourful abstract on the sidewalks now and the waning light is beginning to lead us into twilight much earlier as we draw our blinds against oncoming night at hours that only weeks ago found us exulting in the sun’s warm embrace.

Nature’s vocation is to send light into our hearts, too – this magical shot was taken in Stanley Park (Vancouver, B.C.).

A Great Blue Heron captured on the wooden bridge near Lost Lagoon…this Monet-like setting the result of our early morning walks through Stanley Park (Vancouver, B.C.).

Sap glistening down this tree in Stanley Park (Vancouver, B.C.) reminds me of the winter light yet to come.

Summer is over now, a few weeks after I wrote this post my father passed away and a good friend moved back home to Australia…the warm autumn days since have soothed my heart and have started to stir the writer within me once again.

 

 

 

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About anotetohuguette

I'm currently blogging from the beautiful West Coast city of Vancouver, British Columbia - a vibrant city by the sea, surrounded by mountains and a very unique urban forest.
This entry was posted in blog, journaling, life, memoir, photography, travel and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

36 Responses to Dive Deep

  1. Shirley says:

    These are the given that heals the heart, awash the thought process with magic, and awes us in the artists works, here and beyond.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Miriam says:

    Nature and art combine to be so incredibly healing. Your words are beautiful and inspiring here. Enjoy the seasons and your writing. xx

    Liked by 2 people

  3. calmkate says:

    glad you are inspired to write again, your father would want that! And whatever you write is imbued with sunshine, warmth and the simplicity of a life well lived in the moment. Felt like I visited those galleries with you, thanks so much!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Your words are a balm and yes, my Dad would want me to keep on writing…it felt so good to press Publish yesterday…it’s wonderful to re-connect with so many beautiful people out there in the WordPress world, thank you for your lovely words, they mean a lot!

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Eliza Waters says:

    Sorry to hear about the loss of your father, never an easy thing to adjust to. Nor the miles that come between friends. It’s nice that you are treating yourself to some cultural distractions, it helps.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Jade M. Wong says:

    I’m so sorry to hear about your father…it’s never easy to love someone you love, especially a parent. I hope to continue to take time out for yourself to practice self care. Sending you strength and kind thoughts, Kim πŸ’œ

    Liked by 1 person

  6. It is good to see you back here Kimberlee. Your posts are always inspiring. I love the idea of donation days – we do not have them here at all.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. markmkane says:

    Kimberlee, welcome back! It’s so refreshing to read your lovely words of prose once again. Again, my deepest sympathy goes out to you and your family and I hope you’re doing well.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. michnavs says:

    Its a joy to see you back writing again..(yey) as i missed your post when your words would literaly transport us to where you are. Hear the birds chirping and witness them fly away; watch the sunset and feel the warmth of twilight; Sip a cup of freshly brewed coffee and smell its aroma…i miss this..

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Quirky Girl says:

    So happy to see you back on WordPress! May your adventures in nature continue to embrace you in peace and joy through its wondrous, endless beauty.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Your posts always slow me down, Kim. They settle my mind and bring me into the present as I join you in your observations of art, and more often, of nature. They make me realize how much beauty I miss as I hurry through my days. How lovely that Vancouver museums/galleries have donation days where those on simple budgets have a chance to wander and explore. Art is one thing that is wonderfully and uniquely human and should be available to all. I’m glad that autumn’s slow glide into winter is bringing you peace after your father’s passing and the departure of your friend. And yes, take up the pen. Hugs. ❀

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Jina Bazzar says:

    Your words are vivid and descriptive and leave little to the imagination. I enjoyed your description of what felt like a lovely day, though I was sorry to read about your father.

    Liked by 1 person

  12. I’m so sorry to hear about your Dad, but as always you painted a beautiful picture of the place and time – the exhibits sound fascinating, but your descriptions of the jewel-like birds and autumn’s mosaics are just as artful πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

    • How lovely to read your beautiful words…I’ve always wondered what it would be like to paint but have to be satisfied with trying to paint my world with words…your comment has brightened a rainy morning as snow gently falls on our local mountains!

      Liked by 1 person

  13. Tranature - quiet moments in nature says:

    Thank you for letting us walk beside you from the last shimmers of Summer into the mosaic of Autumn Kim πŸ’œ Nature and art are great friends and healers, both bringing magic and light into our world and reminding us of the magic in us too. You are a great writer and weaving magic with your pen opens you to the flow of love that is always there. Thinking of you at this time and sending love to you and your mum from all of us here πŸ’žπŸ’œπŸ’ž xxx

    Liked by 1 person

  14. ellie894 says:

    My warmest condolences for the loss of your father. Your words of this post and your previous one touched my heart deeply. I have just been through a very similar time with my own father. He went into the hospital on July 4 at 88 years old in relatively good health. In a matter of weeks a range of illnesses took hold of him causing suffering. I lost him in mid August and my heart is very heavy some days. And then for you to lose a dear friend to such a great distance… My thoughts are with you…please take care ❀️🌷

    Liked by 1 person

    • Your words are gently walking over my heart…when I read your beautiful post, I sensed that nature’s wildness was easing your heart, too. Your father’s journey is yet another echo…my father’s last words to me were, “Help me!”, it’s comforting to know that we all did our best to ease his passing. Please accept my heartfelt condolences as well and may nature continue to be a source of great comfort to you as well as a joyful companion.

      Liked by 1 person

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