Joel.Simone

Yesterday was a busy day, and I have updates and pics for the location of The Doorway. However, I want make note of my recent walk before I forget the resulting ideas and inspirations; so I will post the info from yesterday a bit later.

Today was the first day of sunshine in several, and the rain casted our hills with vibrant green grass complemented with touches of yellow wild flower. I was inspired by this natural beauty and wanted to seize the moment by returning to my reflective walks through Martin Creek.

As I was walked, I listened; I closed my eyes. I imagined Jordan, the main character for The Doorway, being close to nature. I only felt the sounds: the noise of the rocks scrubbing and crunching with each footstep, the rhythm and successions of each stride, the sound of the birds, the flowing water. I thought of what Rob said in his advice to me:

I would counsel consistent work at the tasks you set yourself. Step by step. Be an artist at least once a day. Don’t rush. Don’t think ahead. Stay in the moment.

With this in mind, I stepped off the trail before a tree, Tree of Life. The ground under the tree was very different from the trail. With each step I slightly melded into the delicate grass, and with this, a subtle crackling sound permeated. I looked down to a multitude of brown oak tree leafs intertwined with long and fresh blades of greenery. I pulled a leaf from the grasp of the greens and gently ran my fingers over the dry and bumpy texture. I stepped back and, with my eyes, followed the base of the tree, the trunk, and the bare branches before a crisp blue sky. I drifted away and started towards the path while holding and looking at the leaf. Then I stopped, looked at the grass, and pressed my palm to the earth. The grass gave way as I applied pressure. It was slightly wet and warm; I stopped, and held my hand in place, and I thought, “This is the contrast.” This is nature, and this is being close to it. I want Jordan to have a similar experience. I want him to be within the safety of his room, feeling the texture of the walls; looking and longing for something. I want to show the dynamic range between the dry and cold texture of the wall, the room, and the thriving, inviting and warm texture of the earth.

(As I wrote this, I had a second thought; I imagined him opening the door. Maybe when he opens the door, it doesn’t have to be from behind. It a can be from the side so it’s facing us.)