Open expanses

“Study of clouds in September” oil on canvas, 8” x 11” by Hilary J. England

I painted this as my heart was in turmoil. Such a beautiful day, and yet, it weighed heavily on me. I thought back 18 years, to the horror of that day, and then I thought back 11 more...12 more...standing in the quiet of th office, looking out over the Manhattan landscape...the other buildings, the bay with the helicopters constantly engaged in a delicate dance of weaving about each other like moths at a lantern. I remembered occasionally stepping up into the long, elegant windows, and pressing my head to thick glass to look down and thrill myself. Many days, from the 92nd floor, I would see a cloud cover that settled around the midsection of the building like a fluffy belt. Other days, I would see tiny people as small as a swarm of ants milling about in the streets below, caught up in the hectic pace of the day and their daily lives, not knowing that a young girl was watching them with intense interest from above in a building on top of the world.

The days before and after September 11th always cause a flood of emotions for me, a mixture of nostalgia and pain, and force my mind back to my youth, which I suppose is a good thing. It reminds me of who I was. I have lost much of that person...so much. That is my ghost. I think if she and I were to cosmically meet, say, passing each other in some street, she would not recognize me, and I would weep at how distant we became. 

The landscape I sat in in this day was bright and clean and refreshing and perfect, but oddly sad and alone, dwarfed by the largeness of the universe. The one tree stood alone and resigned. Lonely? Not so much. Maybe indifferent, sad, thoughtful or resigned. 

These were my thoughts when I did this cloud study and the breezes blew by me and through me.