Wind from the Sea
July 17th, 2023
The air is heavy with high heat and bloated with humidity. The air envelops everything in a nasty layer of moisture and sweat and stickiness. I am heavy as well. My head feels heavy with fragments of thoughts that soak up the irrelevancy of consideration of any physical action. My legs are heavy and there is no spring in my walk. My body feels heavy and untouchable and cumbersome. The summer heat wave is here, bringing a slowdown to my body with the evaporation of any energy I might have had, and the spillage of my thoughts into pools full of anger and despondency.
And I keep looking at this painting over and over again.
And as I keep looking, I feel relief in the gentleness of the breeze that is only captured on canvas and yet, felt in reality by me. No, the air is not moving where I sit right now. It just stamps on me with a heavy foot. But I know that I can feel the gentle caress of a slightly discernable breeze on my face. I know it is cheating — looking at the painting depicting the fall, while summer is spreading its heat in slimy tentacles. I don't care. And I don't care about the symbolism of the painting and its designated meaning. I made it to have my personal meaning, at least for a while — until the weather turns. I made it my relief from the heat. I made it my escape from what is surrounding me in reality. I made it my reality — a reality where a slight wind is coming from an open window, cooling me down and there is no more oppression from the centigrade going higher and higher on a scale. I took a creation made by another person and used it for my personal needs. I guess that could be a good use for creativity and creation.
