Getting Away. Unplugging. Remembering to Pay Attention. Coming Home.
This week we came home from a nearly two-week trip visiting family.
Some of my sister-in law’s David Austin Roses, inspiring me to plant some again
To be honest, it was hard to leave. For many reasons.
We had a great time, but coming home again, to our house in the woods, felt marvelous.
Clivia flowers greeted me when I returned home
I packed my laptop and a backpack full of art supplies, but I didn’t touch any of it. I brought my journal and only wrote once. I think I needed time to unplug, to truly get away.
One of the paths on my in-law’s property — it was such fun scheming with my SIL about all we want to do on our properties in the coming years
Much of my time away was spent with my two little nieces, one four years old and the other 17 months. What a joy. Exhausting, but also sweet and inspiring. The four-year-old is enthralled with nature, spiders and bugs, especially. Nothing delights her more than calling over one of her adults to point out her discoveries. She’s an amazing noticer. Spending time with her was a good reminder for me to slow down. To pay attention. To notice and savor.
Sunset on their land — we have many trees on our property, they’re planting them
These last five-ish months — since first seeing the listing for the property that would become our country home — have been a whirlwind. So many ups and downs. Sleepless nights. Wonder and awe. Moments of panic. Runaway joy. Sore muscles. Peaceful mornings. I’ve filled page after page in my journals as I try not to forget a single detail, attempting to hold onto the slippery haze of my thoughts and feelings.
Jack-in-the-Pulpit berries are easy to spot in our woods right now
Here, at this mile-marker in my journey, I don’t yet feel I have a solid grasp. Sometimes it seems as if I’m moving in slow motion while the world races ahead, time sped up. My list of to-dos stretches longer and longer, now filled with so many concrete plans and ideas (no longer just daydreams for someday) for this land, this house, my future gardens. I know this is just life — the rich, beautiful life of a dreamer, making dreams a reality. But I also can’t help when worry or anxiety begin to creep in, little voices pointing out all the ways in which I’m falling behind.
I remind myself, again and again, how special this time is. A time of discovery, rebirth and an opportunity to craft a life I want to live. Although I’m the same person I was before, I’m also different now. I want to be different. I cannot live my life in the same way as I did when I lived in town. And I remind myself that big changes like this take time. Often a long time. Although magical and wonderful just as they are, our house and land will take many years to become what we imagine. I know it won’t take me as long, but how can I expect my own changes to happen overnight.
a heart in a radish — a magical detail easily overlooked
Recently I’ve seen artist after artist sharing their thoughts about life right now, pondering how they want to show up in the world — and online — the lives they want to be living. I think there’s a collective exhaustion, among creative people especially. The state of the world wears on us all. But I also think that the realm of the internet has been changing, its vastness, its frenetic energy and the ever growing abyss of AI generated garbage is making artists and writers consider this next chapter, whether to buckle down and create quiet havens of beauty and calm or to focus their energy elsewhere, offline.
my most recent painting — inspired by a dahlia I grew from seed in a pot on my deck
I don’t have the answers. But I do know that I want to focus again on my art in a way I haven’t for a long time. And I want to focus on connecting deeply with nature in a way that slows me down even more, that takes me outside, away from screens to inhabit the world of trees and wildflowers and bugs and spiders.
do you notice the subtle glimmer of a spiderweb, or walk right past?
I think of my sweet niece taking my hand to help me see the wonder of a glittering spiderweb. And I’m grateful. Grateful to remember that it doesn’t matter if I stray off the path or fall behind. Perhaps it’s even better this way.
If you’re craving a quiet haven of beauty and calm and a chance to stray off the path with me, I’ve been working on some projects I’d love to have you join me in.
Let’s get together in Portugal next spring for an in-person getaway designed to inspire and rejuvenate!
I first mentioned this opportunity back in May. The pre-registration has been very slow. I get it. It’s a big commitment and with all the uncertainty in the world right now, such a trip is out of the question for many. But if you’re at all interested and would like to see this event happen, sign up here. There’s no payment required yet. We need to gather enough people in order to go ahead and the retreat won’t happen if there’s not enough interest.
Stay Tuned for New Online Classes
I won’t say too much just yet, but new classes are coming. And I’m working on offering classes singly, outside of Skillshare as well. I’m not leaving Skillshare (I love teaching there!), but I want to have options for my students who don’t want to pay a subscription. This has been on my to-do list for a long time and it’s something I often get questions about. If there an existing class you’d like to see available on its own or if there’s a new topic you’d love to dive into with me, let me know.
And finally, I’m opening up a paid option on Substack.
No pressure. And no paywall. I’ve been offering all I share for free for years and I don’t intend to change that, but if you’d like to be able to help support what I do, here’s a chance.
dahlias from my mom’s garden
Whether you do or don’t, I’m grateful to have you here.