GROUNDED Outdoor Pillows

Talk about summer love'n, or anytime of year, we've got the cushions for all seasons. 100% polyester insert, poly spun shell, fade resistant printing with treatments in UV protection, water and mildew resistance, these pillows have got you covered! As an added bonus, there's quite the selection. Your choice between pillow or shell only, both with conveniently hidden zippers and 3 size variants (16 x 16 IN, 18 x 18 IN and 20 x 20 IN). Don't worry about cleanup: shells are machine wash, cold with mild detergent on gentle. Don't bleach or tumble dry.

ABOUT THE PAINTING:

GROUNDED: Acrylic on canvas, 3 x 2 FT.

According to Merriam-Webster, GROUNDED means mentally and emotionally stable. But, being “grounded” is really a subjective thing, don’t you think?

Some people find themselves grounded in community, some in routine. Some people find themselves grounded in a space, physically in the world sphere or mentally in meditation. Some find themselves grounded in ritual. No matter which way one seeks it, everybody needs it.

I’ve traveled many different versions of myself in this life. No matter where I went, I always prided myself on being grounded… until, I wasn’t.

Quite honestly, there are certain whispers of memories I have that I ask myself, “Who the, what the hell was that?” When I speak of such misty memories, I ponder “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost. Funny enough, for all the times it crosses my mind, it isn’t my favorite poem. The reason my mind draws back to Frost is for the way I was introduced to it. I still remember the 8th grade classroom with desks gathered in a circle, facing on another, and books crowded on whiteboard ledges, ready to be borrowed against weekly reading assignments. We took turns in the circle reading stanzas aloud then discussed it. This time, there was silence in the exchange when our teacher asked, “What else could ‘the road not taken’ mean?” I raised my hand and suggested the author was talking about the road HE had not taken.

That day was any given school day. And though I am by far not the most brilliant of my long-graduated classmates, I’m sure they remember as little about that footnote of a lesson as I remember it a new chapter opening. That was the day words gathered a new meaning for me, birthing a writer… made all the difference.

Now, looking back, having traveled those many different versions of myself, I see I was grounded. It was never about space and time for me, was the journey. It wasn’t about classic definitions of success for me, was the peaks and valleys. I look at this painting as an allegory of that journey, the journey we all have in our different expressions.