Here's the short version:
- The rest of 2017-2018 is a blur.
- Left a 35 year career in public education halfway through 2019.
- Gifted myself a custom built camper van to freely travel and be a full-time artist, open land advocate, and whatever else I wanted.
- In February, 2020, we were planning a wedding and awaiting the arrival of a new family member - my first grandchild.
- Covid hit shortly after in full force.
- Granddaughter arrived despite Covid restraints and world events, healthy and as adorable as can be, thank God and FaceTime. The new little family is thriving and safe.
- Everything else turned to shit...
Like you, I am trying to figure out what 'new normal' looks like as every day unleashes old and new circumstances to make sense of and navigate through. Grieving and creating are simultaneous, daily rituals. My thread of sanity is that I am not in this alone but in good company - as sad and frightening and frustrating as it all can be - I remain hopeful, most of the time, as I look for ways to engage, participate, understand, move collectively towards healing...
"Mostly it is loss which teaches us about the worth of things."
~Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860, German philosopher)
I decided to continue this blog from when I first wrote back in 2011. It's been an interesting reread for me... A continuation of what I started almost 10 years ago here will easily merge with the new.
@projectmojavelight: The remaining months of 2020 and on into 2021 will hover around a profound (to me) personal art project seeded 3 years ago. 120 individual art pieces sized 5"x5" each will be launched into my world (and perhaps yours) beginning Thanksgiving week, November 2020.
Details on this interactive, personal art project and how it unfolds will be the subject in posts to come. If you are on Instagram, @projectmojavelight is where I will post visual briefs for the process as each panel is created.
For now, I would love to share with you an event that warms me to the depths of my core. A bright star to light the dark corners of our hearts. How can one not feel protective joy around new life?
Please meet my first grandchild - Adley Rose - here 2 months old, now 6 months and still full of sparkle and joy. A new generation of hope...