Peppermint Sky
6x8 oil
Throughout my life, wherever I’ve lived, I have always found a place of refuge where I could go when the weight of the world just got a little bit too much to bear.
When I was ten, it was high in a tangled jungle of mangrove trees that edged a swampy canal. There, near the top, the breeze rocked and swayed the rubbery branches as I sailed away to some imaginary paradise where nothing of the real world existed, all of it made forever memorable by the sweet aroma of burning coffee that I’d stolen from my mom’s can of Folgers and stuffed into my corn-cob pipe. There, I found peace.
When I was thirteen, it was in a cow pasture behind my prep school dormitory. There, after having slipped out near midnight, I lay in the thick kikuyu grass and gazed up at the billions of stars hoping to see a UFO. It was as thrilling as it was mesmerizing, this place made forever memorable by the smell of cattle and mud. There, I found peace.
In my twenties, it was anywhere I could sit alone with my guitar and search for a new melody or lyrics to go with one already composed. My light weight, perfectly constructed classical instrument had the most resonant sound, and when I paused, I lifted it to my face and breathed in the sweet woody aroma emanating from the sound hole. There, I found peace.
Now, it’s an escape into the country, where I can gaze out over farmlands and cattle pastures and wine country vineyards. It’s anywhere with a vista, or a blaze of late light spilling across the road. It’s me in my car, or walking along a river or on a path through a meadow, all of this nesting in my memory in shapes and shadows and sunlight and grasses green, brown, and heeled into the earth by fellow travelers. Here, I find peace.
“Peppermint Sky” is the view from one of my walks in search of solitude. Oh how I love to stand and gaze at the sky near sundown. I love clouds in their myriad shapes and colors and the way they all gather at dusk to compose for me yet another hint of the perfect place that awaits us all, and I can’t help but feel the immensity of its concomitant peace.
But I also find it here in the wild world, in the good people in my life, in my family and friends and people on the street who look up and nod hello as they pass me by. And I find peace with my paintbrush, smelling of oil paint and solvent, the aroma of creativity.
Wherever I am, I will find peace. Because it’s through that medium alone that I can honestly meet with the person I have become.
