There are seasons when everything feels slightly out of focus, as though I’m living in a fogged over mirror of my own life. The light seems to fall just beyond reach, and even the simplest things…a morning routine, a brushstroke, a breath …feel like effort. That’s where this piece began.
I painted it in one of those stretches when discouragement came quietly but settled in like weather…grey, low, unhurried to leave. Yet as I worked, I found myself surrounded by an almost defiant beauty: the neighbors nearby Adam’s needle in its annual bloom that seem to whisper the world’s stubborn insistence on renewal. These flowers …emblems of purity, humility, and endurance …became my counterpoint to despair.
At the center, a woman and man stand in quiet understanding. His hands rest on her shoulders, not to direct her gaze but to remind her she’s still here, still held. Behind them, children caring for animals…the busyness and blessing of family life pressing until it gradually slows as they leave the nest and one’s spirit falters.
The frame is patterned with motifs drawn like loose medieval illumination …geometry and foliage arranged in deliberate order, a reminder that beauty is both wild and designed. Each petal and line speaks of abundance I nearly missed by looking inward too long.
When I finally stepped back from the canvas, I realized it was less a painting and more a personal map ….out of fog and into pasture. The words “He leadeth me to green pastures” are less a statement of destination and more a gentle reminder: the pasture was here all along. I simply needed to open my eyes.
