Week 132

30 hummingbirds fluttered overhead, darting in and out of the stunted Sonoran  trees. Their throats glistened fuchsia and emerald. The tiny wings together created an ever present stir of the warming morning air. Below them, the desert floor was anything but lazy in its awakening. It had burst forth in flames of color, each a fresh struck match sitting nestled among long thin, needle-like spines.  Yesterday’s spent blooms still smolder, holding their petals high like a twisted torch in the darkness. 

Our brushes flit in and out, entwining and exploring. The nearness of each other was a steady humming energy; loud and sonorous much like the miniature birds careening close and then the low thrum as when they move quickly away. We are drawn to one another in the subconscious.

It can be like slipping into a meditative state, your mind splitting in half. One portion is flying in passion, creativity and problem solving while the other portion acutely aware of the ever present and primal magnetic pulling of the other person. 

As the final luscious magenta and cads rush forward from my brush in a brilliant collusion to create a center flame, there is secondary igniting within each of us. It is bright and energetic, trilling with the thrill of creation. Laert’s large hand softly takes mine, warmth spreading up my arm and blooming across my body, the circle is complete and completely aflame. 

Sonoran in Flame

24 x 24 | Oil on Panel