It seems unlikely, but then what isn’t really? A bamboo tree fell in our backyard. Not broken. Not uprooted. But lying on the ground. I guess nobody thought to tell it that it was no longer viable, because with the same speed of the standing bamboo trees, it appears to be still growing.
And it makes me smile, because how many times have I, we, been that tree? Knocked off of our feet, but certainly not done. Maybe it’s when we grow the most, in mid-challenge.
I suppose inspiration is everywhere, if we choose to see it. And I do.
Sometimes you need to hear it from someone who’s been there — from the mouth of the bamboo — everything is still possible, life, growth, learning, even love.
I didn’t even notice it when I took the picture – how the bamboo tree photobombed my most recent painting.
I don’t know that I was aware of the speed, strength and resilience of bamboo before moving to France. We have a tiny forest of them in our backyard. It’s not like you can actually see them growing…but almost. For the most part, we have kept them contained to a single area, but this one somehow snuck much closer to the house.
I was never really one to paint landscapes before. I had only lived in the city. But I am surrounded by nature now. I walk through it daily. It seems I permanently have a rock in my shoe, every shoe, and a call to wander. It’s in my heart now. And as with all of my paintings, they have to travel through there first. I paint the landscapes. I live in this new palette. And I can see it. The growth.
Maybe I didn’t notice it while it was happening, but I have bambooed my way into this new palette — this new life. I suppose that’s the way it is with all growth — strong, resilient, and oh, so surprising!
