As you may have surmised by my recent posts, I’ve been traveling a bit. During this time I’ve been painting less than I normally do. I know that from the outside it might seem as though I’ve stepped away from my art.

But I haven’t.

Not even a little bit.

Travel has definitely changed the rhythm of my work though. Moving from place to place, living out of a suitcase isn't the same as being settled in my studio with my easel in front of me.

But the artist in me hasn’t stop working.

I’m still drawing, making color notes with watercolors and I even painted a mural in my friend's home in Mexico.

More importantly I’m still living. Observing myself through various trials and transitions. Sometimes with shades of Alice in Wonderland . . . (that’s a whole different post).

I have always felt that being an artist means honing your ability to really “see”. There is something sacred about being truly present in each moment. Absorbing. Digesting sounds and visuals as if they were flavors that you taste with your mind.

Every place I’ve traveled recently has brought something new into my visual vocabulary. Sitting in unfamiliar places and allowing myself to be changed by the experience of being there. The act of relishing early morning sunlight; feeling its warmth soak into my skin. Noticing the impossible vibrance of flowers on a rooftop, the different faces and new landscapes. Each sensation slightly moving the dial of my perception.

I feel like it’s all settling in, somewhere deep inside me . . . waiting for voice.

Adding new pieces to the puzzle of me.

As those pieces settle, I can decide how they get arranged. I think maybe all this exploration is feeding a part of my soul that hungered for it.

I have a couple stops to make before heading back to Hawai‘i. Once I get there I have a feeling the easel and I are going to have a lot to talk about.

I can’t wait to see what comes out of that conversation.