aaaahh. This is the life. Quiet. Sun. A good book.

And yet? This moment follows the day Ariella and I drove 11 hours back from Toronto (thanks to a 2 hour wait on the border). And, in a short while, there is the trip to her plane today… another 3 hours round-trip drive.

But doesn’t that moment of peace look soooooo sweet? Yes. Yes. Yes.

And I do feel good. I feel good because I’m on the other side of traveling. No matter what. No matter the really AMAZING time I had in Toronto – thank you Hunter and Lynn and Lynn’s fabulous family – I always am a little on edge when traveling. I know there is history behind this, but it would be nice to be past it all. The up side of it is that I feel especially good on return.

AND, with the long drives, I had all kinds of time for ideas about my art. I had one DEFINITE idea move into the next “no this is better” MORE DEFINITE idea. Etc. I have learned over the years to not trust that my mind is going to necessarily be right about these seemingly certain ideas. But, in the moment, I feel charged up and energized by them.

Aside from the actual visual images, though, I was contemplating the deeper source of where my art is coming from, that place that I keep mining even as the iterations can look different as they are formed.

For me, I’m guessing that it has something to do with my early years (pre 3 years old) of seeing with blurry vision and then clarity, no control. Perhaps that raised the value of touch for me. That fabric. That comfort. Those bearings, perhaps. And, perhaps, paramount, that feeling.

When I was in Maine a short while ago, one sister mentioned a trip we took years ago, together. She remembered the specifics, what we did each day. What I recall was the emotional sense. The blur. The color of it all. My immersion in feeling.

Blur. Color. Immersion.

These deeper questions that move me : re. “From where does this arise?” Will I ever really understand and get an answer? Is it an endless search?

Or not. Instead…perhaps, maybe, over time I will discover a sense that my works of art resonate in a way that is that answer? Somehow captures some essence. And somehow that essence echoes outwards.

Not “an answer”. Rather: Answering. Ongoing. Evolving.

Love the sun. Love the quiet. Love summer.