There’s been a cold snap over night. I needed to build a fire for the first time in a very long while. The wind is howling out there, a fire is blazing in here. I’m listening to music—Pandora—Eilen Jewell Radio, my painting apron on. I’ve already delivered some paintings to the gallery this morning and now I’m setting up to paint for the rest of the day.
I load the wood heater, flames dance to life. Cats and dogs nap in their favorite spots, near me in the studio. And my whole being is flush with gratitude. I am so profoundly grateful for this life I am privileged to live.
I am grateful for the cord wood left over from winter, for the mountain whose powerful presence grounds me. I am grateful for the silence and this time alone. Equally grateful for my friends that make sure I’m not always alone.
I am thankful for my three old easels and the 16 years of experience standing up to them—for the magic we have achieved together—the hours and hours of creative energy spent there, some of it angst-ridden, some of it flooded with peace and knowing. All of it profound and healing—art is a masterful teacher.
And I am grateful for the anticipation of the deep rest I know will be mine at the end of yet another satisfying day of painting; the good book that awaits me there.
And you. I am filled with awe that I get to write to you. Thank you for being there, for the lives you live and the energy you give. It is all a perfect, beautiful dance we are doing. And while I could continue this dance alone, it is so very much better to be doing it with you.
Love to you all,