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Feb 19, 2022Liked by Ron Wodaski

Me too, amazed at the beauty everywhere. The best gift of being an artist is the trained eye to see nuanced color, texture, shape, shadows all the time. I live in gratitude. I can relate to loving a creek.

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I think if we are lucky (insert long argument about what luck even is), love comes to us in ways that we only feel if we dare to. A miserable day? A cat sits, licking its paw intensely. A painful toothache? A warm sun mocks my sorry, the rhythm of someone with a funny walk dares to amuse me. Sorrow has a job to do, and then the job is done. Despair is about lessons, not the ghosts that appear, teaching them. And so on. The size and value of life is the same for a pauper or a king, I’ve heard it said. Just a few minutes ago, in response to how it is that one takes a photograph, I said confidence was not a shortcut; it is about endurance. Taking the time to see, for example. Sometimes it takes an hour to see how a tree fits into its space. I paint for an hour, but I __paint__ for the last few minutes. I take pictures for an hour, but I take a photograph at the end of that. To understand how to create, how to say thank you, how to ask for help: these are the key kinds of skills that a happy person focuses on. :)

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