A Poem - Tipping Point: Art

There is a moment, 

Especially on weekend mornings

When I've watched a video-demo or two, 

Scrolled through posts and pins on  
watercolor, sketching and plein air painting,

When (like having a running start) I
Just gotta get up and do it myself.

I go to the bathroom, pee, brush my teeth, maybe shower and line my eyes,

When, I have another idea.

I make espresso, grab a yogurt, add some walnuts, 

then see out the window a squirrel (yes, cliche’ all the way), hungrier than me. 

So, I take and toss the remaining nut shards

into a concrete valentine water dish beneath his tree. And,

With the last plop,

I notice the tiniest of scenes.

Two crooks in the tree

with a bark that reminds me of the worst of acne,

and snow that looks more like the kind that comes from spray cans

and all in a hint of winter shadow.

I grab my small Moleskine sketchbook

(because this is only to commemorate a very small scene),

my favorite Deluxe Micro Uni-ball pen

And put lines and more lines down.

Though in the time I’ve taken to finish the sketch,

write about the moment I was moved to sketch

but ate breakfast instead,

and saw a squirrel, fed it, and drew where I placed its food,

I never see the squirrel again. Yet,

I still feel pretty good about the morning.

Tipping Point: Art
Mary Longe
1/30/16

Have you gotten way-laid and eventually ended up exactly where you wanted to be?