Upon returning from Hobart yesterday (about the time the sun was just beginning its descent over the edge of the world), I walked out to the Sunset Bench with its new deck. It had been built by Pino and myself just two days earlier and I had quickly come to like, even as one sat firmly on the bench, how the deck floated and nudged one’s spirit over that edge and out over the water.
The difference, however, between sitting on it the first couple of days when Bill’s and Pino’s energy and friendship were still amply present at Windgrove and last night when, once again, I was alone, was starkly evident.
It had only been a few hours since I had left Bill and Pino in Hobart to begin their journey back to America, and as I approached the Sunset Bench and saw it positioned empty out in space, the not-unexpected sadness of their departure stripped some of the color from the day. The deck and bench hovered black and white tempting me to “take a seat”, but it was difficult to climb on board for I feared something could take hold of me; something that I had kept pushed down for years.
The sadness I accept as a consequence of love. The fear, I will work on.
Oh, to embrace life fully—to embrace even friendship fully—is to spread the jam of bitter sweetness upon the bread of one’s existence. Get used to the flavour, I say. It is most nourishing.
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This morning the color has returned. If you don’t believe me, just take a walk with me down the Peace Path. Hidden in the bushes and floating two feet off the ground is Bill’s sculpture, “Fishing for Peace”. Made up of found objects from the beach and my studio, this little boat of blue, maroon, orange and yellow will bring joy to anyone.
It gladdens the heart.
Posted by Peter Adams at 09:59 AM. Filed under: Art • Refugee-in-residence •
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