Making lemonade (from the lemons of old paint)

Moving is tough, more so when you learn the new owners don’t want any of the remnants the last owner left behind (which in our case includes a lot of unused house paint, among other things that are costly to dispose of). After an initial meltdown, many days of exhaustion/tearfulness, and no time made for the creative things that fuel me, I turned the garage into an impromptu studio and made this painting using some of the paint to be discarded. Lemons into lemonade.

I will treasure this as a piece that holds the many wonderful memories of the house we’re leaving and symbolizes where we are heading. The surface is quite rough and highly textured (largely due to the limited paint application tools and the viscosity of house paint), but even this seems metaphorically apt.

Celebrating my 50th birthday today in the most perfect way for the day, as required – packing boxes, taking out the trash, connecting with so many of the people I love, and painting.

#grateful #makeartwhereyoufindit #partiesareoverrated #introvert #fiftyandfabulous #paintersgottapaint #recycling #makelemonade

A different kind of love letter*


You’re watching me
From your blanketed perch
The spot we’ve made for you
On the left side of the couch

I’m in the kitchen
The reason
Your interest is keen

But I pretend your attention
Is something like love

Something like
The way I love you
Which feels like held breath
And fills my empty spaces

Even as I know
You’re merely calculating
A piece of carrot?
A slice of cucumber, maybe?

Weighing the likelihood
Of a treat against
The comfort of the couch

There was a time
When you watched
From up close
And only
Pressed against my leg
Or with a nose in my lap

Ever optimistic
No matter how many times
I never
Shared my dinner

You’re more discerning now
Better trained perhaps
Or maybe just tired
Aware of your aching body
As I am

You see
I watch you, too

And I feel my heart ache
Each time I imagine
Your side of the couch
Without you. Watching me

© Amanda Reilly Sayer, 2019

* In honor of my dear Chapin, 13 years old today ❤️

Sunlit Path


Ripples of light
Unfolding a path
Over vast, shifting earth

Circuitous, but leading
Not the shortest line
But there

Along with that lone tree
Whispering wind-filled stories
Of survival and new branches

Look back if you must
But notice the widening arc
The trail gone past

Tales of your struggle
Are etched in your bones
You need not repeat them

Now, away from the setting sun
Step into your long shadow, embrace
And watch the tide shift

The unknown
Place of your thriving
Lies just ahead

© Amanda Reilly Sayer

Haiku #29 (#3TC)


Poet’s pen poised
Hummingbird hovering high
Artists’ amulets

© Amanda Reilly Sayer

This haiku was written in response to Paula Light’s Three Things Challenge, which you may read more about here. In short, the challenge is to produce a piece of creative writing by using the three words provided: pen, hummingbird, amulet.

I was especially inspired to participate in honor of my friend Tracy Crow, a beautiful creative soul who loves hummingbirds. The painting is an older one, made for another dear friend who loves hummingbirds. You might say this entire post has been fueled by the energy of friendship.

Much love to my dear friends, new and old 💚

Do You Believe In Destiny?

Robert Frost’s The Road Not Taken made some, if not all the difference to me as a developing person. Rarely one to take the easy or expected path, I found Frost’s poem reassuring, even encouraging. But as I ponder now the various roads I’ve taken, I wonder whether I was destined to end up right here. Maybe all the fretting and deciding were superfluous egoistic illusions of control.

At a current crossroads in my life, I’m not surprised to see paintings with path imagery emerge. But I’m intrigued by the evident central path, significant to me in part because none of the paintings began with any thematic intention. Most typically, my paintings evolve organically, meaning they aren’t planned and often change – sometimes dramatically – as they are made.

I’m curious about this repeated theme, the one path. It’s almost as if my subconscious, maybe my higher self, is offering a reminder: “You’re on your path whether or not you can see where you’re going, worry is optional.”

For not the first time, I’m considering whether each of us has a predetermined path, sometimes called a soul path. This possibility doesn’t negate free will, which I believe we have. It’s more like being in a great river. We may choose to swim against the current or even to walk along the banks. But it’s probably easiest to stay in the water and go with the flow.

I am aware of making choices. At the same time, I feel I’m being led in a particular direction, even as I have little certainty about where that is or what waits for me beyond the next bend.

Do you ever feel this way? When you look back on your life, do you understand now where you were being led then?

My 3 most recent paintings

Remembering Light

Whenever I feel the balance tip to dusk, edging towards darkness, I recall the sunrise, or other light-filled images. Metaphorically, yes, but also literally, with dozens of photographs to choose from.

You might wonder if this is a way I escape the present or turn away from a more complicated reality, which is always a mix of light and dark. But that isn’t my experience. Rather, this practice of remembering light helps me keep perspective no matter what is going on around me, just as a wide angle lens captures more landscape.

I wonder what you do to regain perspective when the scales begin to tip. Would you consider sharing that with me and others? Can we remember the light together, then offer it to those who need a little extra today?