Seasonal depression has hit me - I always get it in the summertime. It's too hot, humid and the mosquitos will eat you alive in the south. I try to find happiness in the flowers, the sounds of cicadas and whippoorwills, as well as the chance to spend time at the lakes and rivers. But sometimes, they aren't enough. It's been one of those weekends where I just read all day to escape - hopefully next weekend will be more productive in the studio.
When you are a child, the places you visit are very few and often not of your choosing. You are shuttled between locations that are deemed safe by the adults in your life, but once there, you have free reign to be yourself and play. I chose to present the few places in my childhood where I felt safe, inspired and free. These buildings were my own little world where anything was possible, where I made lifelong friends and where I was loved. The memories from youth are sometimes blended together, patchy and exaggerated, but they provide a base for what we seek out in adulthood – we look for these places that feel warm, inviting and comfortable.
~ these works were part of "Memories: Real and Imagined" at the Janet F Harte Library, Corpus Christi, Tx
It's been a little over a year since we have been engaged. Andrew proposed on a hike in Lost Maples park and it was more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. We wanted to take a year to enjoy being engaged and do some traveling before we start planning, but obviously the universe had other ideas. So since we haven't been able to travel, we have been making things and planning for the wedding. I can't wait to go visit Lost Maples again (when it's safe) and see the leaves changing again.
I have been focusing mainly on commissions during my free time, so my own work has fallen on the back-burner. This sweet girl has been my main focus over the past two weeks and there is another piece of her sister that will be hung next to her. I really love painting and get so excited any chance I can pick up a brush, but there is something intrinsic about a pencil for me.
This is where we sat during Christmas, warming ourselves by the fire. This is where our trophies were placed, all lined in a row. This is where my parents built their life and raised a family. I spent 18 years in this house and overnight it was gone.
I have been thinking about my future more intensely lately; Should I go to graduate school? Should I buy a house or keep renting? What is the next step I am supposed to take? But after thinking for a moment and weighing my options I keep getting drawn back here. To this land and this hearth. The trees and the quiet nights listening to the whippoorwills. Maybe I've been spending too much time planning and looking ahead; maybe in order for me to figure out what my next adventure should be I need to go back to the spot where all my first journeys began...back to the original starting point.