“Every day is a god, each day is a god, and holiness holds forth in time.” Annie Dillard begins her book Holy The Firm (and every morning) with a weather eye cocked on the forces that Already Are.

It’s a good policy.

I usually discover the god (or goddess) of the day after the third or fourth coincidence and nearly always after my second cup of coffee. Often the god of the day is Dropit!, a jokester who sees to it that anything I hold in my hand falls to the floor the instant my attention wavers. There’s another god who loves to hide things. His name seems to be **!!#%$! - he stopped by just last week to collect my favorite turquoise sunglasses.

Today’s god was in charge of studio conversations. I’d been feeling progressively more isolated after a week of solitary daily studio practice. As well, my slowly recovering health has meant keeping social interactions to a minimum. So today’s guy, TalkShop, saw to it that I had two long. lovely phone calls from dear friends in the morning, an actual visit from another dear friend at lunchtime, and two visits from postmen, one in the morning and one in the afternoon to make sure that the one in the morning had gotten his numbers right.

I did get my palette out and managed to paint half a leaf before the energy meter ran out and I had to shut up shop. A day of small work. Cleaning up, I regretted that I have too many colours on the palette lately. Prep time takes nearly forty minutes which adds considerably to the energy deficit. I began this painting so simply with just five colours and am now up to ... fourteen! I haven’t a clue what to about it, given the complexity of the greens of the salal leaves and seductive excellence of the paint (Vasari Oil Colors). I remember reading about Morandi’s amazement at the complexity of the colours of the Italian landscape near Grizzana. “Can you believe it-I actually saw seventy shades of green...!” *

Too many colours are like having too many conversations going on all at once in a small room. The clamor can be dizzying and it’s hard to pay close attention to what really matters. I was lucky to have my conversations today one at a time.

It was a good day. Once I understood to whom the day belonged.


*(Bornfeld, Ab. Giorgio Morandi: Seventy Shades of Green. Morandi Editions, 1997. p74.)