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Not a rainbow but …

… I was taking a shortcut through the Boston Public Library, making my way from the Boylston Street entrance to the Dartmouth Street side.  Of course I had to pause for a quick browse of the New Arrivals shelf.  That’s where I saw the deed take place.

It would be easy to assume that the old man was homeless, one of the many who frequent the building.  His clothing was bedraggled to say the least and his beard more than a bit unkempt.  His brown skin was weathered into the proverbial leather.  Despite apparent age, there was an almost childish bright light in his rheumy eyes.  While he walked with the aid of a battered metal cane, there was a spryness to his step as he made his way across the room.  But, I have to admit, I noticed none of these details until later, until after I heard the young man’s voice calling, “Hey.  Hey! Wait a minute, old man.”

The old man had been walking away from me, but he turned at the younger man’s voice, and that was how I was able to see his face.  The younger man had been walking toward me, looking gruff and rushed as so many of us do today as we race, race, race.  I had seen him brush passed the old man nearly knocking him over.  But then he had stopped.  The gruff look upon his face had not changed. In fact, it deepened.

At some point the younger man  spun around.  With a fierce, aggressive energy, he called the old man.  When the man paused and turned to face him, the young man raced back to him.  “Here,” he said, and shoved something into the old man’s hand.

The old man raised a plastic bag.  It was just clear enough for me to see that inside were a pair of shoes.  I glanced down and saw what the younger man may have seen.  The old man’s feet were barely covered by a pair of threadbare sneakers.

“Where did these come from?” the old man asked, clearly perplexed.  The younger man had already turned away.  Over his shoulder he growled, “St. Francis.”

The older man looked at the bag, shrugged, and continued on his way.

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Traveling by foot to the Mystic River can be a bit harrowing from where I live.  There’s nothing like crossing a major highway, at a legitimate pedestrian crossing, without a crosswalk signal.  But when you reach the river, it is worth it.

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When I told my family in Virginia that for my birthday I chose to go walking along the seashore, many responded with horror.  “Wasn’t it cold?” they asked.  “Yes,” I said, “and windy too.  So I had to keep my head down.”  And this is what I saw.

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I don’t know … I feel like I see a figure in the icicle.  A drooping shoulder.  A lean torso narrowing into nothingness as the sun melts its frame.  Perhaps I have been reading too many fantasy novels. What do you see? 😉

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Snowy Evening by Rod MacIver

Snowy Evening by Rod MacIver

On occasion I muse on this blog about pausing and giving one’s self permission to stop moving in a world that is increasingly hectic.  One resource that has been especially useful for me of late is Roderick MacIver’s A Pause for Beauty, a daily e-journal produced by the Heron Dance Art Studio featuring MacIver’s paintings paired with his words or select quotations.

Solo Migration by Rod MacIver

Solo Migration by Rod MacIver

I was moved to contact MacIver, wanting to know more about this artist, his inspirations and the creation of his Heron Dance Art Studio.  Following are excerpts from our conversation.  Please note that the images he has granted permission to share on this blog are those he considers some of his favorites.

Eagle Morning by Rod MacIver

Eagle Morning by Rod MacIver

The website describes Heron Dance as a literary nonprofit and art studio founded in 1994.  While MacIver’s paintings dominate the site, he made clear that Heron Dance began as a print publication — a blue newsletter — based on interviews with people he met during his travels, people “who had some concept of greater good.”  “Art,” he noted,  “was minor in the beginning.”   As for why he conducted these interviews, “Well, previously I had worked on Wall Street and then I was diagnosed with a serious illness, non-Hodgkins lymphoma.  As I survived that illness, I wanted to devote myself to something positive.”  And so he set out to capture the experiences of people doing good works, learning about their spiritual lives, what motivated them, the nature of their struggles, as well as hopes.  Eventually, as he fully describes on his website, he stopped looking without and began looking within.

Tranquil Reflections by Rod MacIver

Tranquil Reflections by Rod MacIver

He taught himself to paint while in the hospital.  The art made its way into the print publication simply as part of the graphic design of the masthead.  It was over time, he shared, that the art became more important.  As more people began asking for his artwork, he realized his art could be an integral part of a business.  But painting he asserts is about more than business.  “No, I enjoy painting.  I need to create time to do more of it.”

Grizzly Wonder by Rod MacIver

Grizzly Wonder by Rod MacIver

He currently splits his time between the business side of the Heron Dance Art Studio (located in Vermont) and “the quiet beauty” of cabin life in the Adirondack woods where the landscape’s influence is clear in his painting.  Taoism is inspiring him these days. Taoism is a spiritual tradition that promotes living in harmony with nature, among other beliefs. “It’s an interesting approach to spirituality.  Water is an important component that I am exploring.  Water-related activities have been an important part of my life.”

Morning Solitude by Rod MacIver

Morning Solitude by Rod MacIver

The home page of the Heron Dance website lists his current and ongoing creative projects including new collections of his paintings and personal reflections available in books, calendars and diaries.

Heron Whisper by Rod MacIver

Heron Whisper by Rod MacIver

If you have a quite moment, or better yet, if you are seeking a quiet moment, I encourage you to read Mr. MacIver’s very detailed account of the the origins of Heron Dance via this link.  There you will find excerpts from the interviews mentioned earlier in this post, and see not only the evolution of a publication like Heron Dance but also witness the ongoing evolution of a person and his unique journey in this life.   Enjoy!

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When I return to Virginia, I am always surprised in a wondrous way by the beauty of the light falling upon the landscape.  It is different than the light that inspires me here in New England.  At some point I must sit and write about those lights, but until then I will simply share this picture taken while visiting with family.  For those of you who celebrate Thanksgiving, I hope you had a good holiday.

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