I can't promise that I'm going to keep sketching everyday. For now, doing so keeps me connected to Taos, where showing up on the page came to me naturally. I want to ride that wave for as long as I can.
I can't promise that every sketch will be good. I'm human, just like everyone else, and with my humanity comes some vanity. I would prefer to share only the sketches I love, but there is benefit to sharing those that I don't. Sketches where I was heavy-handed and the paper deteriorated ... sketches when the pen misbehaved. I'm a beginner. I want to wear that proudly. There is safety in vulnerability, so I take my opinion out of it and simply share.
What I can promise you is that every sketch is a story, so here is this one for you ...
Taos is timeless for me. Literally. I can't tell you on which day of the week it happened. I can't even remember if it was morning or evening because, well, I honestly can't tell time out there. I don't think it exists. For me it feels like one long and exquisite right-now.
So once upon one of these right-nows, Amy and I were sitting on the gravel covered porch, as had become our ritual. This was our view:
I know, right?! We spent a lot of time there, taking in and filling up with the magnitude of it all, but one of these precious times, a glistening caught me eye from amongst the rocks upon which our chairs sat. Nestled in the gravel was a faceted crystal bead. We couldn't imagine where it came from or how it ended up there, but at a certain point during your stay in Taos you stop being surprised when things magically show up. So after a moment of marveling, I picked up it, tucked it away and trusted that I would know what to do with it when it was time to do it.
And I did. Today. Wrapped it in a wee bit of argentium sterling silver wire with two matching beads to anchor it. It, in turn, will anchor me until I can return. For this little treasure and what it represents, I am so very grateful.
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