Life is stuff I do right before I pick up a paint brush, or the thoughts that turn into words between me and friends, that often transpire into actions or new ideas. It's a verb. Love is a verb. Art is a verb. I don't have much interest in pontificating 'what art is'. I read very few blogs anymore. It starts to sound sort of like that Charlie Brown movie, where the adults are always in the background saying 'Wah wah wah'. I once had a fellow artist say she wished I'd complain more on my blog, that my days sound so 'peaceful'. I have many unpeaceful moments, I just don't share them in my blog.
The internet is a connector, and allows me to be make a living in the country on a farm - but it has no breath. I am so lucky I can just step outside and feel and hear breath all around me. I carried a cat around on my shoulder today while I carried hay to the sheep, all the while hearing his purring.
It's always something, isn't it, that keeps us all running around doing, going. The car dies, you run around buying a new one, you get a gallery show and you run around framing things, your teeth hurt so you run around to get extra work done quickly so you can take time out of your schedule to go the dentist. It's easy to get caught up in the wave. But the farm's greatest gift for me is the tug of it all day, it's breath, reminding me to come out, live in it, not for it, but in it.
