A siesta.

The pace of my life over the last five years has been fast and wonderful, thanks to the snowball I pushed down the hill to get to a place I wanted to go. I feel that I am standing in that place now, being asked to understand how I may be truly present here. I feel a pull to pause, to take a long, deep breath inside of a year and rest. What do I have to offer? Is it something new? Something changed? Any moment I slow down—in process, long drives to installs, or quiet studio mornings, these questions I’m sharing here fill my practice. Rilke says, in Letters to a Young Poet, “ Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer. Perhaps you do carry within you the possibility of creating and forming, as an especially blessed and pure way of living; train yourself for that -- but take whatever comes, with great trust, and as long as it comes out of your will, out of some need of your innermost self, then take it upon yourself.”

This resonates. So here we are together, in this small part of the internet I cherish deeply, share wholeheartedly, and have never taken a break from. I am headed off the grid for a month to take a long siesta and sit inside of my thoughts. To dream, to follow a knowing down a path where emails and DMs do not cloud my vision, and new projects stay in the meadows and along the horizon; to watch my kids and learn what they know. That’s the place where my creative heart lives happily, and she’s asking me for a little rest inside of the limitlessness of a child’s imagination.

See you in a month.