Love Story: In The Web of Life by Ken Renshaw (snow like ashes TXT) 📕

Tina went over to the picture, examined itcarefully and said, "This could be a Payne because it looks as ifit could have been painted of the view from the back yard. Thosemountains look the same. Payne liked to paint around here. Look atthe detail in the wildflowers."

I was puzzled and asked, "How did you get to besuch an expert on California Impressionist paintings?"

Then, we heard Tom saying goodbye to hisclient, a well–dressed lady, at the front door. Tom came into theliving room and greeted us with a hearty welcome."

I introduced Tina as Tom looked at herintently.

Tina said, "I brought along lots to read. I'llsit right here as quiet as a mouse while you go away."

Tom grinned and said, "Make yourself at home,and use the kitchen to make coffee or tea. There is a big bowl offresh fruit that needs to be eaten. You can sit on the back patioif you wish and enjoy this beautiful day. The bathroom is rightdown the hall. We will probably be a couple of hours. There is atrail that leaves the back yard and goes up the hill to aviewpoint. Watch out for snakes."

Tina replied, "Thanks, I think I will do allthose things. I know how to look out for snakes. Dave told me aboutMr. Spider. I think I'll visit him. I'll be careful not to disturbhim."

"He is behind the avocado tree at the end ofthe yard."

We went into Tom's office.

Two hours and fifteen minutes later we emerged.I looked around and found Tina taking a nap on a chaise lounge inthe shade on the back patio. As she heard the screen door open, shesat up and smiled. "Back from space-time travels?'

"Yes, it was really amazing."

"It looks like it. You are really radiatingthat amazing energy." Tina exclaimed.

I thanked Tom, we chatted a bit and then saidour goodbyes. As we walked to the car I said to Tina, "Why don'tyou drive. I am still a bit distracted, not totally back in presenttime."

"Still feel like going to the Norton Simon?"She asked.

"Yes, I think that would be perfect. How aboutsomething simple for lunch?"

She thought a minute and then said, "There is alittle latte and snack bar in the courtyard at the museum. Theyhave sandwiches there. How about that?"

"Great."

After we drove away Tina asked, "Do you want totalk about what happened in your session?"

"Yes, that would probably be a good idea. I amstill trying to assimilate what I experienced in visiting thatspace-time."

"It was some time at the beginning if World WarI and we were in Germany. My brother, he was about 20, and I, about22, were fascinated with learning to fly a biplane that a local manflew. He sold rides and gave flying lessons. My recall skippeduntil when my brother was killed in a crash of that same biplane,when a wheel came off in landing and the plane flipped over. Iexperienced intense grief. I got back to that space-time becauseTom ran me back on a grief thread that started from the time whenour family dog died in this lifetime.

"Then, I followed the thread of 'crashingairplanes' and skipped to when I was flying in a German biplanesquadron. The other pilots were a scary, brutal bunch of guys,fiercely and ruthlessly competing for some award or prize forshooting down enemy airplanes. I could feel their vibrations ofanger. I was caught up in the game and shot down many airplanes.Everyone thought it was a noble endeavor; we were like knightsjousting for honor. I re-experienced several dogfight scenes,machine-gunning other airplanes, following them down to the groundto make sure they crashed and burned. I could hear the sound of thebiplane motors, smell the engines, and feel how the airplaneresponded to controls. I feel as though I could get into one todayand know how to fly it.

"I'll have to read up on the era. There wasconfusing stuff I don't understand. I have a sense that there ismore of that story to be recalled from that space-time."

Tina's eyes were wide as she asked, "Do youreally want to follow all that by looking a Monet'sWater Lilies?"

"Yes, I need a change ofspace-time."

The Norton Simon Museum sits on Colorado, themain street of Pasadena, on the path of the New Year's Day RoseParade. As we walked up to the unassuming grey–tiled building, wepassed several bigger-than-life Rodin bronze sculptures in acourtyard. We could see through the glass lobby into the gardenwith a large pond, hundreds of trees and shrubs, and many pieces ofsculpture worked into the landscape. Two exhibition wings connectedto the lobby. We went directly into the garden to havelunch.

As we sat at one of the garden's wrought irontables, enjoying a simple lunch, Tina said, "I love this place,where we can sit and look over the pond and see works by Rodin,Laurens, Henry Moore, Hepworth and Maillol and others. What avisual feast!"

"I'm impressed by your knowledge about art," Icommented.

"My course work for my masters degree hasincluded quite a few art history and art criticism courses. As Ihave really learned to look at art, I have found a different levelof appreciation. With some artists' works, after I look at them awhile I start to feel the emotion of what the artist wasexperiencing when they painted the picture. For instance, one of myfavorite pictures, Sous Bois, by Cezanne, in the LA County Museum,shows a scene in a wood. As I study the picture I can smell theleaves, feel the humidity, feel the love of the scene, and marvelat the shapes of the trees. It is as though I am getting intoCezanne's head.

"Another time, I visited the Rothko Chapel inHouston, a chapel that features big panels, almost black, painted ashort time before Rothko committed suicide. The chapel was supposedto be a place of meditation for people of all faiths. All Iexperienced was Rothko's utter despair, a sense of total failure,one of the lowest vibrations I have ever experienced. When I leftthere, I almost felt suicidal. Even now, when I think about thevisit, I can feel Rothko's despair. Aargh! I have to keep my mindout of there.

"Maybe that is a feature of great art: it takesyou