I light incense. In a quest for clarity, I trim the stems of white roses and place them in a clear cylinder vase. I couldn’t resist them this morning at the market. The early light in studio has always presented a centering pointe for meditation. Today is the day of the week that I most often set aside events on my itinerary for writing.
Film production is well underway which means my studio is filled with new lighting contraptions, filter light tripods, screens, etc.… I strive to memorize the terms associated with lighting, film speed, motion and audio settings while developing a better understanding of what can and cannot be achieved in editing. Our cameramen seem exceedingly patient, and happy to explain when I ask a multitude of questions. I worry that my curiosities and endeavors to understand just as much about film as I do my rendered content might annoy them. They don’t seem to mind. I hope that they are pleased to know that they’re working with someone who is entirely invested in all facets of the production, the stories we’ll tell and how they’re captured and conveyed.
Later, I’ll spend much of the afternoon in studio. That, to me, seems a bit unusual. A guilty pleasure perhaps. Between layers of networking, storyboard writing and painting, there are classes to teach. It is the busiest of times. And yet I write with keen awareness that by the time this story goes to press, by my accounts, things will grow even busier.
I counted down to the midnight hour on December 31st, determined to make this year momentous. For a singular reason, this is a milestone year. As they say, “be careful what you wish for.” I’ve learned that dreams have a funny way of becoming sharp reality. Through hard work remarkable things can be achieved. Those past events that seemed cataclysmic only occurred to teach us integral lessons, revealing inner strength. One learns that barriers can be abolished when examined thoroughly. Empathy is the taproot that spurs creative initiative and underscores progress, actively.
Yesterday while launching a Fine Arts program at a local Alabama school, a little girl in a purple dress raised her hand to ask, “Is art class almost over? Because I don’t want it be.” I smiled and explained that, now that her school has a fine art program, it doesn’t have to end. We’ll continue to explore our creativity together next week. Together we find and establish a reassurance that we’re facilitating a significant need here in our state and community. Light like this always presents clarity.
Art is Life Expressed – Sarah West, owner of the Sarah West Gallery of Fine Art