the other end of the

All winter long I had time alone. Lots and lots of time alone. Good for art. And for dreaming about summer. Summer full of friends and family. Full of people.

And yes, here I have it. I have that summer that I dreamed about. In spades. I have so many people coming and going, more so than any other summer. And I’m doing the same. I’m here, then Maine, then NYC, next Boston, then Toronto. And that’s just July. For each of these journeys, or rather, long car rides, I have hours and hours to talk with someone(s) in the car. Great for conversation. I love it. And then, on arrival – the people I’m visiting. Back here at the lake, a constant flow as well. No night without a guest, long-term or breezing through. I’m with people.

And the art?

In Maine, there are those trees. In NYC, there is that art (I enjoyed some great galleries while seeing fun theater), and here at the lake, that input/ that feedback from others about my art. It’s rich. It’s really rich.

And there it is, in my art: the dark top. The much lighter bottom. Juxtaposition. Alone and then NOT. Very dark hues and then … not.

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