Looking for inspiration and patterns…… Caroline Hibbs
Someone once said to me that looking for inspiration is like wading in mud. My first thought was ‘what a ridiculous thought;’ but after pondering over it I realised …. that is exactly what it is. During this time of Covid 19 it has been difficult to think of anything else with every media platform full of it and rightly so but it does get in the way of any other thoughts. Keeping to the government guidelines at all times this household has been going for long walks, from our doorstep, on the South Downs, and my word we have really waded in a lot of mud.
The photo shows the river bank of the Sussex Ouse … on the right the river and on the left a flooded field, the river water had to have somewhere to go! The mud does tend to force you to look down at your feet and where you are putting them! But …. force yourself to look up … and immediately you will see beautiful patterns everywhere. The sky .… its light, the clouds and the colours forever changing. The trees in winter enticing us to think of spring with the buds quietly waiting for their moment to flourish, even when they are covered in haw frost.
I constantly find I am looking for patterns wherever I go, the ancient church in a tiny East Sussex village and the other end of the scale the rusty detritus in a farm yard. The sun rising and peeping over the downs or looking out to sea to the horizon as the sun slowly appears. There are patterns wherever you look if you have the time to gaze.
Artists have painted the South Downs for many years and the artist Eric Revillous famously painted the Downs in East Sussex, the open fields, pathways, fields, pasture and the Cliffs looking down to Beachy Head lighthouse to name a few. His work is full of patterns and if we take time we will see them too. So never mind the mud, put on your boots and just go and be inspired.
I am reminded of the poem ‘Leisure’ by W H Davies …
What is this life if full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care.
We have no time to stand and stare.
Poem in Public Domain.