Am I the animal(s) or the zoo keeper? A bit of both undoubtedly. unruly-me. Or is this tiger we speak of free to wander, to slink, to kill or be killed, to sleep deeply in the shade swatting flies whilst cubs suckle at her teats, with one ear & eye alert to danger?

I’m taking a class. It is to do with discipline. It is called The Path of The Tiger: Discipline in Your Writing. The discipline of showing up & being there for yourself, to do the work, to make things happen. Ostensibly it is about writing. But I know there are no untouched parts of life when one engages with spirituality, creativity; making & doing. And looking at procrastination in it’s many coloured paint blobs.

 I look forward to the journey. The timing is right, the instructor, I learned last night at the first of 4 intense classes, is completely right. The process is right. I am open, aware & ready for just this class. It is good to have new paths, outside connections, a differing perspective to bring to a body of work.

I meant to blog about sky and I will, but had to mention the newness of this course because I have a pre-sense of it’s implications in my life as a sometimes zoo-living tiger, who strives to be free on a plain. Note to self: read about the Buddhist (I believe?)origins of ‘path of the tiger’.

I thought about how to paint ‘sky’ this week. In a new way, non-traditional, non-representational, but still connected to sky. I didn’t want to get tight and anal about sky & grey-bottomed clouds, or thick white ones you can take a bite out of.

Standing in my studio I closed my eyes & decided the best thing to do was feel sky. See in my head all the skies I have known and gazed into.
-clean Mediterranean Skies, full of bright southern light.
-north African skies, mysterious light grey tones
-Ontario skies over my uncle’s plant farm, shunting clouds over rolling hills, full of childhood hope & glory
-watery loose Laurentian clouds against lavender sky, reflected into the lakes & crusty snow of Quebec
And then there was that massive BIG sky I reached out to as to a life preserver in a suburb, during my children’s early years. Living there was wrong for me. My eyes would raise from the perfection of their young faces, and gaze out above the rooves of that cultural desert knowing that one day I would cast off, fly straight up & out.

Eventually in slow motion, opportunity & the undertow of flat-field wind rising, I lost my footing, grew wings, & now am other.
I am born in the year of the horse, perhaps I should be wary of the tiger. But no!
I say bring on the tiger.