Blueberries and The Practice of a Singular Focus

 

 

 © SSD

 

I recently re-read Claire Dederer's book, "Poser: My Life in Twenty Three Yoga Poses." I read her book ritualistically every two or three years, as I do a handful of others. In the chapter titled, "Wheel," Ms. Dederer's yoga teacher at the time guides her and the others in the class into the pose called marichi's twist, a seated with bent knee twisting pose. The teacher states that most poses ask you to extend your gaze outward and into the distance, but with this pose, she states, "Most of the time you should keep your gaze close to you. Keep your gaze within the area of the mat."

 

I read that sentence over and over again, "Keep your gaze within the area of your mat." It brought to my mind thoughts of my recent sketching and watercolor painting in the nearby woods on the expansive grounds of the University of Fairbanks. I go there with the intention of focusing on just one or two leaves, a single branch or one flower. No background sketching is to be included. 

I had been finding it challenging not to add more. To not add that really beautiful bird that just flew overhead or the white fluff of cottonwood trees blanketing the edge of the trail, but to instead focus solely on one plant, or the details of a single branch, without the trunk of the tree. 

Yet, as I repeated this work week after week, I noted more and more details in that singular or dual (two leaves instead of one) element or item. In fact, I saw more in less than I had in much. These exercises and images are ultimately to be carried over into larger paintings with multiple figures, shapes or forms. The intention is to keep the details of each item within the body of the larger work.

I recently went blueberry picking with a new friend out on the taiga, or boreal forest, here in Fairbanks, Alaska. The taiga is a stunted forest of trees underlain by permafrost. It's vast! It's beautiful! We walked up towards the top of Murphy's Dome. My friend, who was just a few feet ahead of me, announced, "This is a good place. Lots of big, ripe berries. Lets find our spots and settle down for a bit," and so we did. We harvested about 2 1/2 gallons of berries each before it was time to start packing up and getting back to our homes. 

 

Before we left, I took out the shears I always pack and cut a couple of small, blueberry branches to take with me. I thought, "These are right here in front of me. If I was standing on my yoga mat, they would be on it. too. These are within the gaze of my mat."  Visualizing a yoga mat was just a means for me to 1.) define a specific space and 2.) bring my yoga / mindfulness practice to the moment. 

Berry picking is often a solitary act or if you are with others, like I was on this day, a shared time of focusing on harvesting and not on conversing. The only words we shared for a little less than two hours was an occasional call out asking if the other was OK. Talking is saved for before and after berry picking. It is a great time to focus on one thing, one act.

“Yoga is the ability to direct the mind exclusively toward an object and sustain that direction without any distractions” – T. K. V. Desikachar, The Heart of Yoga

When I returned home and after I washed and put the blueberries in my refrigerator, I placed one of the blueberry branches on my art table. I chose the one with many berries, which I later enjoyed eating. I started sketching the base of the branch and immediately thought, "I should add some lady fern (often seen out on the taiga), a little labrador tea, or some moss. A leaning tamarack tree would look great." Too, I asked myself, "Would just a single branch of an oval-leaf blueberry bush be enough?" 

I took a breath, resisted adding more and instead looked closer at each leaf, berry and the stems of the branch. Only two leaves, those on the upper right, had brown, insect bitten edges. The oval leaves clustered together in one place on the stems and then another. Some berries were dark blue, others were more purple and a few were almost white. Some were big and round and others looked oval like their leaves. 

I took the hours needed to first sketch and then watercolor paint this beautiful and significant plant to the households of many and to the diverse wildlife of the taiga, itself. Preserving what you harvest is a sign of respect for the gifts the landscape provides us with; the food of the land and the sky. I decided the best way for me to preserve this single branch of blueberries was to paint it. Now they will last forever. 

 

© SSD 

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Let me state again that blue is a rare color in nature, as I noted in my post before this one. Here in Alaska there are three blues in nature that come to my mind. One is the blue of our state flower, Forget Me Not, and the other is the blue of our many types of blueberries growing across the state. The third will be discussed in another post soon. It is a stunning beauty!

 

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Before I started writing this post, I google searched much about blueberries in art. I was joyously surprised to see a series of watercolor paintings by the internationally celebrated artist, Salvador Dali, called The Fruit Series. One of these is of blueberries, with a surrealist's vision. Dali created these fruit studies in 1969 for the publisher Jean-Paul Schneider. He watercolor painted over 14 images created by the Dutch print-maker and botanist Pierre-Jean Redoute (1759-1840). One of those was called, "Monsieur hatif." The first one below is Redoute's work and the one below it is that work altered by Dali. Dali's piece is called, "Fruit Series - Blueberries."

 

 

 

Dali's image is so fascinating. I see so much movement and yet focus and intent. That's me out on the tundra or taiga. I have blueberry stains on much of my clothing and my hands are blue, too. I am quiet and still until the bush I am picking from is empty and then I am up looking for that next patch of blue. 

 

This evening I will venture back into the woods on the grounds of the University of Fairbanks, set up my camp chair and pull out my sketchbook, water, paint, pencil and brush. I will remind myself of the details I found on the leaves and berries of a single blueberry branch and look for the same in the leaf of another plant or the gills of a single mushroom. I will engage in the practice of painting with a singular focus. I will share what I paint there in one post or another soon. ©