I was already crispy dry by the time I reached the desert. Even after a week by the sea just a month before. The first half of 2013 was difficult. Having my only child away at college for the first time ... difficult. Losing a young colleague and friend suddenly, tragically ... difficult. Unrelenting job stress ... difficult. Suffice it to say, I dragged myself into Mabel Dodge Luhan House much the way a victim of shipwreck drags themself to shore. Tattered and gasping. I was starving for expansive art, beauty, and peace.
I received everything that I was looking for, needed and more. I worried that my rekindled sketchbook journaling practice would be limited to Mabel's where my heart brims and I'm burden-free. Thankfully, it traveled back home with me, along with considerable peace.
We can't control which cards that life will deal us. But we can slap on those cards some gel medium, slivers of ephemera, penwork and paint. It's easy to forget about the option of art when we are otherwise in the thick of things. But art really isn't optional. Through the creative process, we can be buoyed and maybe even saved. For this I am so very grateful.
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