art juice and steamboat powder

Here it is Friday morning already! Snuggled deep under the covers, a heavy lidded sun slovenly hints at the horizon with a streak of ice blue. Wind blows. The desk is piled with mail, exhibit applications and post-it notes with seemingly endless “to dos.” I left my computer home last weekend while I enjoyed a complimentary ski trip and then hit the ground running upon my return - thus Friday seems to have budged to the front of the line and arrived prematurely. Paul has some clients who put us up in a comfy condo at the base of a ski resort in Steamboat Springs, gave us ski passes, a rental car, and rental skis. The trip was too good to pass up but I drug my knuckles and grumbled at the thought of leaving since the studio is nearly complete. I am more-than-eager to finish up, move in, and get to work!!! BUT I had no idea just how much a spin out of town would salivate my creative art glands. I slurped up the art scene like a parched woman. Sipping, lapping, dunking and gorging myself at the Denver Art Museum I felt my pores open up to soak it all in. After years of struggling without a real creative space I find myself shifting internally as the studio nears completion. A whole new novel in the series of my life is set to go to press. Many of the feelings Snoopy-dancing in my soul are similar to the hungry excited curious and driven passion I felt in my early twenties when I jumped on a Greyhound bus in Bozeman and rode to Seattle for a museum fix and to buy my first four chisels at a wood workers store.  A few years earlier colorful cravings drove me to charge a bus ticket from Montana to New York after I received a full scholarship to the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Art in Philadelphia.  Actually much of my life is fueled by the passion to create and to visually gobble up creations by others. A recent life chapter focused on survival mode, family and transitions.  Large life shifts shoved some of my creative hunger cravings into a dusty dark corner but they are impossible to ignore and certainly haven’t lost any of their sparkle!  Last weekend was a yummy chunk of soul food.  My thirst is far from quenched but feeling thirsty feels good! I bought a beautiful museum book about Louis Bourgeous.  She too suffered from insomnia.  She also journaled.  Somehow my journal habit fostered for decades has been on hiatus since social media and blogging entered my life.  I vow to return to the blank book and pen as I dive into the juicy creative tank – eyes wide open