“Isn’t it ironic that so much depression occurs around the holidays – theoretically the time of joy and goodwill? Not to mention all out, over the top stress. And dread… “
Everything was as I thought it would be: soft, sumptuous, embracing, delicious… But some things are meant to be kept as sweet memories and not shared with the world…
One of the many purposes of the High Road Artist blog is a hope of giving people a moment of quiet calm and a reminder of what already exists in their lives if they only take the tiniest bit of time to appreciate it.
Silently, I climbed the stairs to the second floor. Surrounded by thunderstorms off in the distance, the fragrance of rain on the air, I raised my glass and toasted the life I didn’t yet know.
I wrote about experiencing a sort of shattering when I first arrived in Truchas. So I’ve been picking through the land, gathering up the pieces, assembling them into a new pronouncement of me.
I was born an artist and I think, by nature, most artists are different. We seem to be wired for the lives we must live in order to make our art. I finally quit trying to push my square-peg self into the always-round hole…
I have a secret to tell you: living your dream isn’t everything you think it will be. It isn’t, necessarily, the final or the whole answer. I think I thought living every day as a working artist, was it. But, in fact, it was just the beginning.