Chasing Clouds
I am obsessed. When the clouds start rolling in, when they turn pink as the sun starts to set, as they flow into and over crevices in the rocks… I am mesmerised. And I feel an urgent need to paint them… knowing full well the clouds are moving so fast, the moment I just observed (and fell in love with) will never be repeated… ever…
Last night, driving home during the “golden hour”, I couldn’t bring myself to actually drive home, and miss the stunning light and clouds spilling over the top of Table Mountain, Lion’s Head, Devil’s Peak and the Twelve Apostles. I feel like Cape Town is a stage, with the most beautiful and majestic scenery created for a movie. But it’s real! Even after growing up here, I cannot get enough of the beauty, or even process it.
It causes me pain, somehow, to see such beauty. I am unclear as to why. Why should seeing something beautiful cause me pain? The beauty creates a desperate need in me to capture it, to stop time, to halt movement. Is it a recognition that this is impossible? That everything is fleeting? Definitely, painting is a way for me to try stop time… The moment (moments) I have captured in paint will forever be preserved. A friend said my love of and passion for my natural surroundings represents my spirituality. Beauty connects me to my spirituality.
The urgency with which I needed to keep driving last night, to keep finding a new vista, a new turn in the road that revealed another stunning view, that I tried to capture desperately with my phone (sticking my arm out the window) was intense. I literally could not fill my cup with enough beauty, while at the same time I felt completely overwhelmed and somehow sad. Sad that this moment will pass, has passed. Knowing that it can never be repeated. I think mindfulness needs to come into play here… to just be present to the beauty, and to accept impermanence. Nothing will last forever, and everything is forever changing.
The urgency to be part of and capture the beauty that surrounds me propels me out of my apartment in the morning, and stops me staying indoors on beautiful days (or even not-so-beautiful days – as long as it’s not too windy or raining!). And for that I am grateful.
I have been chasing clouds, chasing shadows on mountains, chasing foam on the ocean, racing to paint before the mist clears or the clouds are burned away by the sun, or the shadows move too much as the sun reaches the midday sky. In the moment, I couldn’t be happier or more present. Afterwards I invariably feel like somehow I didn’t manage to capture the beauty before me satisfactorily. But some hours or days later, I often surprise myself, and look at the scene I captured again, and recognise a feeling, a specific moment, the celebration of what it felt like to be living that moment in nature, connecting with nature. And I feel a calm. My cup feels full. Perhaps this is when I find my mindfulness. Perhaps this is why I chase clouds.
