Preliminary preparation for a silent journey leads me to these words by Mary Oliver…

Meditation is old and honorable, so why should I not sit, every morning of my life, on the hillside, looking into the shining world? Because, properly attended to, delight, as well as havoc, is suggestion.

Can one be passionate about the just, the ideal, the sublime, and the holy, and yet commit to no labor in its cause? I don’t think so.

All summations have a beginning, all effect has a story, all kindness begins with the sown seed. Thought buds toward radiance. The gospel of light is the crossroads of — indolence, or action.

Be ignited, or be gone.

It is fall. And, as the leaves transform into crimson hue, and the arid heat turns to gusty chill, I too begin to change. Always changing really…

The work right now beckons me to respond to these internal changes. Each canvas tests my authenticity. Each one, alive in dialogue challenges my intentions, and draws the candor out of my chest into the paint. There I am open. I dance with intention and control, and eventually give in to intuition and spontaneity. I discover questions here that have been dormant. I find quiet amid an active mind. I vault hurdles of fear and continue nonetheless, having more information post jump. I face insecurity and bravery in the same stroke.

Creating is an opportunity to feel something into the world that has not existed before you, but is calling out to be birthed. I am grateful for being chosen to make tangible these offerings.