While mowing the yard the yesterday I noticed these weeds with pretty little blossoms on them and thought if they were in a different place it would not be considered weeds. It’s funny how the location of something can change how it’s viewed. There is a point in life when weeds have to be controlled, and not just in the yard. The hard part is knowing what things are weeds and what are flowers. Trust in God and follow his guidance even if what was once thought to be a flower is actually a pesky weed in God’s plan for us. Allow him to do the weeding in our lives.
What a great thing to have in life, not just knowledge, but the thirst for knowledge. I learn something new everyday. If I could have all the knowledge in the world tomorrow, it would turn the world into a very boring place. I love the feeling when that little light comes on in my head. Wow, what a great feeling when a concept of something becomes perfectly clear, that just the minute before was a mystery. I’m thankful that God made gave the thirst for knowledge and I never want to quench it.
While I was out in our yard taking pictures (that is what I do and the neighbors think I’m crazy, but that is for another blog) I thought about gardening as an art form. I don’t mean topiary because all of bushes in our yard are shaped like bushes. I mean the ability of planting flowers and shrubs in a way that when they bloom the colors are beautiful and very appealing the eye. I can’t claim to have this gift but my wife, Jamie, does. I may help with the colors by telling the colors that I like but after that, I just dig the holes where she tells me. I guess we are the Artist’s helpers, because only God can make a flower grow with such beauty.
While watching it rain yesterday I thought of a picture that I made not too long ago. I’ll admit this photograph took a little patience. It’s not easy capturing the splash with one hand while dropping water from a syringe with the other. It is amazing how one drop of water in a cup can create such awesome art. I have this photograph framed and mounted on the wall at my desk. It also reminds me how a drop of water will cause a ripple to cross a lake. The power of water is truly marvelous.
There are different octaves making up the eighty-eight keys on a piano, but still only twelve notes. I thought about this as I looked at the picture I took of my hands and the piano keys. I realize that I have something in coming with the great composers throughout history, twelve notes. I can play those twelve simple notes, not in the order or with the same timing of Mozart, Beethoven, or Rachmaninoff. But with enough practice, I can play at least something as good as they did, scales, because I have the basics notes. Just one of that thing that popped into my head as a self-proclaimed Artologist.