We continue to get sparkles of springtime here. There’s wind, there’s cold, there’s springtime sunshine, there’s chill in the air, there’s blowing dust, there’s warm currents. The times of bright sun shining down on the bare treetops, some which are not so bare, continue to convince me that we will soon have days of uninterrupted sunshine. That’s the way it is here in the desert southwest. It’s one of the many things I love about living where I do. I can’t quite image myself living with real winters and coping with days and days of snow. These days of transition from what many wouldn’t even call winter into uninterrupted sunshine entice me, remind me that lasting sparkling warmth is near .
The studio is my refuge; there I can zone out, tune in to what’s happening on the inside of me, wrestle with it, attempt to dance with it, put it down in color and texture and shape. Sometimes I teeter along the edge between words and imagery. It brings to remembrance a quote from John Muir: “The sun shines not on us but in us. The rivers flow not past, but through us. Thrilling, tingling, vibrating every fiber and cell of the substance of our bodies, making them glide and sing. The trees wave and the flowers bloom in our bodies as well as our souls.”
