bucolic walks

I had one of those bucolic walks with my friend Jan this afternoon. Jan, who I just met – is it 3 (4?) years ago. We were in a yoga class – where we didn’t really meet. We shared a space.

But once we met, on our first bucolic lakeside walk, it was as if I’d known her since childhood. As if I’d never NOT known her. It was instantly a deep friendship.

And yet, we see each other infrequently. We go stretches where one or the other is so busy we can’t get together. Then we grab our moment, and it’s as if nothing got in the way.

There’s something in my Jan friendship that is also in my art. It’s an experience of knowing. Knowing something that is already there. An essence. And yet, I need to find it. Take the time. Notice how it’s changing, even as it’s part of this ongoing stream.

To be treasured: these bucolic walks. For Jan. For knowing.

For art.