Art Letters

His words suspended my scroll. I listened in:

when you finally realize that joy is less fireworks more firefly
less orchestra more birdsong
she will come back much more often
for joy will not fight with the fast pace of this life
she is not in the shiny or the new
she breathes in the basic
simmers in the simple
and dances in the daily to and fro
joy has been beckoning you for many a year my friend
you were just too busy doing to see
the very next time joy wraps her quiet warmth around you
as the garden embraces your weary body in its wildness
tip her a nod
she doesnt stay long
but if you are a gracious host
joy comes back

- Harry Baker, Joy Comes Back

I started experiencing visual reminders of firefly moments. The grass seed I recently scattered (above), morphing into the tiniest blades of grass.

As someone experiencing and continually experimenting with the monthly effects of PMDD, Harry Baker’s nudge to welcome fireflies rather than chasing fireworks, is a respite. That the drive to Joy can be quite quiet. The size of Joy, petite. The duration of Joy, ephemeral.

That Joy is the amuse-bouche, not the entree. And that Joy’s promise, is she will come back.

I’ve been playing recently with origami. After hearing Harry’s poem, I ventured out to make an origami firefly. 

Next, to morph this idea to paper, then to wood.

And select a nighttime inspired palette.

And help them thrive in the darkness with a shiny coat of resin.

Grateful to share with you my new friends.

A few days after completing this work, I stepped outside into my friend’s backyard one evening. For the first time I’ve experienced in years - there were fireflies dancing around us.

Joy comes back.

LESS FIREWORKS MORE FIREFLY
30 x 20 Acrylic and Resin on Custom Wood Panel
In four color ways
The Miller Gallery

Thank you for personally connecting with me through this work. You are a gracious host for joy.