The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
- Robert Frost (1874 - 1963)
Do you ever find your head so full of stuff... so full that you can't see the forest for the trees? Or... you see the forest and the trees, but there are so many wonderful paths through the woods from which to choose? You may decide on one path, keeping the other for another day, all the while wondering if you will ever be able to return and try another direction. Yet whatever path you choose, it will make all the difference...
The past couple of months, I have been following a path that has taken me (temporarily) away from art and blogging. I am like the person who sometimes can't see the forest for the trees - I need to focus on one thing at a time or I feel like I'm wandering around in circles, getting nowhere. So while I've been putting my energy towards building my coaching business, I just haven't been able to commune with my muse. My paints and art supplies, neatly stacked on shelves and stowed in bins, have been patiently awaiting my return.
This morning, as I was taking my walk with Heidi, I started to feel the familiar presence of inspiration around me. In the trees. In the bird-calls. In the neon orange mushrooms sprouting from the sodden earth. In the cool breeze that comes before the sun's fully up. In the rustling of the chipmunks and squirrels in the undergrowth. In my mind's eye, I saw colors and textures, faces and gestures. My mind moved through the process of laying out a palette, choosing colors. I saw layer upon layer of background. I imagined trying a different approach to creating a figure, something looser and more expressionistic. My muse, who has been lurking behind the trees, has begun to show herself.
I think it's time to go back to the other path I left behind.
