We went out painting a couple of weeks ago. I packed my pastels and we were graced with a windy, but warm California afternoon at a sheep barn. I remember when my grandparents had a copy of a painting of sheep in the pasture over their couch. When I was little, I thought it was delightful..the sheep were in the distance and the hills behind them made it complacent scene. It was a land I wanted to walk through. But, by the time I was an adolsecent, I thought it was the most boring painting I had ever seen. Sheep, for heaven's sakes, just following what life had to offer.
But here I am looking at things from a more childlike view and I still love sheep. I love the way the sun hits their backs, the shadows on their dirty wool, and the fact that they move like clouds across the pasture. We make fun of sheep. They seem to have no thoughts in their heads, but when you watch them they are contented clouds floating across the land, like cartoon balloons, that change with the light, making them ordinary or dazzling. And then if you stand and watch them or paint them long enough you will suddenly see them moved as if by the same wind running towards....you guessed it...the next piece of grass. We can fill those cartoon balloon sheep with whatever thoughts we have that might be complacent... they become vessels for our most peaceful thoughts. But the best part is that I think they are content with being who they are.
