For me, nature is a religion. Like the American Indians I sense in the wilderness the spiritual side of the unknown. Bev Doolittle.
A small print of Bev Doolittle’s painting hangs above my writing desk for inspiration – it speaks directly to my soul. I was first drawn to Bev Doolittle’s painting, Let My Spirit Soar many years ago in a gallery in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. I was familiar with her work but when I saw the full sized print of this picture I wanted to climb right in and sit with the Indian Princess. As I look into it I feel the warmth of mountain sun on my face, hear the silence of the forest; I feel the textures of the images, the roughness of the grasses, the softness of the doeskin dress the Indian maiden wears; I smell the scent of evergreens and free wild animals that linger in the shadows.
Bev’s work is full of surprise, humor and beauty. I love the way she captures nature and fills her paintings with so much detail. The magic of her work hides within the details, inviting us to linger, look longer more deeply, the way to look at life.
When I look at this picture I become the birds reflected in the water, soaring to my own destiny. What is real? The birds or the woman who sits on the rock? Does it matter? When I look at this picture I’m reminded to slow down, look closely, listen deeply.