Sunday, March 20, 2016


there are times that it's just a struggle. getting up, going to work- let alone making art. whatever the reason- the gray gray weather, the death of a beloved companion, a cold that lingers on and on. we've all been there.

no post last week, not much art being made. molly's death, lots of travel, feeling under the weather all catching up with me. you can only run for so long. eventually there's a stopping point. it's often what happens there that determines how things look going forward.

i'm grateful to have my journals to help with that. i am working in all of these currently. each has a personality and they call to me at very specific times for different things.


after vacation i went immediately (as in less than 24 hrs) into intense training at work. which was great but unsettling. followed by a spawning salmon week (swimming upriver only to spawn & die- everyone's had them).

so i went into the studio one night, pulled out a journal and drew an image of myself with a barbed wire burka. i had to laugh- i had no idea that the piece was going this way but it is a perfect representation of how i was feeling. but the meadowlark always sounds like spring to me, so there's hope.


i feel scattered, fragmented. working on this and that- which is better than not working, but it's in fits and starts, not flowing. not feeling like the muse is present- but sometimes you just have to do the work. 

one thing that always helps- the great wide open. cranes flying overhead to land and sing and dance in a field close enough to observe.

beautiful snowy mountains and watery fields holding the promise of a fertile spring

 quiet wild places

funny- i didn't realize until i started writing that this is very much about spring and rebirth. about saying goodbye and moving forward. about spending the time needed to be still and then making noise.

i am working on a portrait of molly. she was much on my mind as halle, jack and i hiked this weekend. the first spring without her in many years. this is my way to say goodbye, to honor her spirit and thank her for what she brought us.

it occurs to me sometimes the struggle is necessary in order to slow down and reflect and make peace. that i should be gentle with myself, and understanding- as i would be with anyone else. that it's all part of the process and it makes sense to learn what i can in this moment, from this seemingly unproductive time (because i know it's really not) so that i can be gentle with myself when it happens again.

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