The Significance of Settings

Today was Large Group Festival for my school’s orchestras. We played far better than anyone expected and pulled out with a 1 rating, which is the best (on a scale of 1 to 5). Though that in itself is exciting, it is not the point of tonight’s post (especially with it being so long since my last activity, which I apologize for).
We left to compete shortly before the last period of the school day began, which meant we didn’t return to school until 4:30, or halfway through the track workout I was supposed to be running. Add on the time needed to change and put everything away, and I got outside just as the rest of the team was finishing the last set of strides that concluded the workout. Needless to say, since I had shown up for practice and my coach knew I had no other commitments for the night, I had the workout to run alone. It consisted of many repetitions of short distances around the track. I watched as my team left. Then the jumping squad followed. The throwing teams weren’t much later. Finally, the various teams still out in their own fields crossed by the track to return to the school building. I wasn’t even half done with my workout and the sun had already set, leaving me in the calm of twilight, without a soul in sight.
I ran on.
Flash back six months. Plenty of times I had intentionally separated myself from the pack of runners that made up my cross country team in order to find peace. I would run around Castlewood state park as the sun dipped toward the horizon under the treeline and do everything possible to minimalize contact with other people. What’s crazy is that I would actually run more and be happier than I was today, running in the absence of my boisterous teammates.
In castlewood, the trees kept me company and the trail constantly changed. On the track, I was surrounded by the concrete jungle of human civilization and told I had to live separated from the very society I was inundated with in every direction as I ran circles that gave no escape.
But the story doesn’t end there! The longing for nature’s beauty finally broke through the barrier in my mind and creativity opened once again to me. I’ve written for the first time in countless weeks and my hand has had the chance to remember what a paint brush feels like. I attempted to paint a scene on the largest canvas I had. And I failed desperately. The sky looked beautiful, as it always does (colors are my forte, especially the beautiful tints of the universal ceiling). However, my endless struggle with perspective came to a dramatic climax as I attempted a lovely landscape that appeared to have no more than a dimension and a half. I continued to work at it, and now I have a beautiful sky, preceeded by rolling hills that cover the main portions of trees that still jut into the sky. At the very front and center portion of the work is a footpath and small bridge across a simple creek that belongs in a courtyard or small park. The disjointed quality yields surprising tranquility, yet the chaos lurks just under the surface, waiting in ambush for the eye that lurks too deep.
For those that have made it this far, thanks for bearing with me as I reacustom myself to written word, take heart: the world has not forgotten about art! Be awesome as always and don’t forget to release your own passions for the world to enjoy!