Filter for the Sake of Your Sanity

Originally posted on Shelter from Our Storms:
We are already at the last quarter of 2018 and I think it is a fairly good time to start reflecting on and deciding whom you are bringing with you to 2019 and whom to just leave behind. Bring the people you truly love. Your family. Life teachers…

This Kind Of Monday

I showed off this creative mess that is my desk today. And then I showed off my finished batch of handmade bookmarks a few hours later. Behind these seemingly idyllic scenes of an artist’s life is a reality of having to stretch the last drops of funds to the end of the month while I…

A Rough Stumble on the Midweek Hump

Woke up with a migraine. I’ve felt it building up in the last few days, fed by the stress from a day job project. Then there was the unexpected market event that I decided to participate in that’s happening in less than three weeks’ time. That may seem sufficient time to prepare but I have…

The Story Is A Middle Finding A Beginning That Ends Well

This is why the garden is impossible and the forest is wild. It is a present that is writing its history in order to shape a desired future. And with every shaping the future becomes the present. And the past is a vast, vast landscape where anything could have happened. To craft a story one…

Unwavering

August is going to be bitten off by a day job project. On a positive note I just might have my funds replenished today so there will some semblance of life. I would at least be able to go on a small Artist Date this weekend, buy myself a nice meal. Today is first fieldwork…

In The Wildforest, the Water Flows

Making progress as I made my first water-related piece last week. The world of the Wildforest opens up a little bit more. There is always a point when a painting becomes mine, and that is what I always look out for. A particular play of elements and patterns that tells me it is the Wildforest,…

Slow Walk Into the Heart of the Forest

I’ve started but I’ve barely begun. The forest is deep even along its edges. Its heart is too well hidden even though one can feel its presence in every thing and every creature. Maps are mere tools for pretending to know the paths, perhaps only good enough to mark the waystations of longing and loneliness….