I am between traveling.  Home from a brief visit to Aspen, Colorado, where our son Jack is part of the Aspen Music Festival, living his musical dreams to the fullest.  It is truly something to witness, one following their truest path.  He is at home in music.

While he worked and practiced and performed, we took in the natural splendor of Aspen and surrounds, grateful to Jack’s wonderful hosts who took us in and treated us like family.

It occurred to me while sitting at the base of the Maroon Bells that the best people in our lives, many of the most important connections moving us ever forward and truer in our own lives, have come from a few simple things – art, music, and the pursuit of what makes our souls sing most heartily.

I think about the time years ago, sitting at the base of those same iconic mountains, when I made the decision to pursue a proper art degree upon returning home from a metalworking class I’d taken at Anderson Ranch in Snowmass near Aspen.  What is it about the clear mountain air and the presence of a stately, ancient mountain which affords us such lofty notions?   I do not know.  But I’m beginning to pick up on the fact that if I have something to think about, I should find myself at the foot of Taos Mountain, Volcan de Agua, or perhaps those lovely iron-laden Maroon Bells to find my answers.

Aspen felt like a proper vacation after the rich and deep work done in New Mexico.  While the Hub and I did sketch quite a lot in some gorgeous locations, there were often times I personally just sat and took it all in.  Jackie Morris of The Lost Words  fame recently stated on an episode of Folk On Foot that one of the most difficult things for her to learn as an artist was that the sitting and thinking and looking and thinking some more, are as important to her job of Artist as the pencil and paint to paper practicalities of her craft – perhaps even more so.  Having not come from a background and family of practicing artists, she’s found this notion difficult in past, and has only recently begun to truly take it on board.  I feel much the same.

That said, the watercolors and pencils do beckon in beautiful places, and I did make a few drawings.

Aspen is steeped in the arts, with ties to the taste and aesthetic of the Bauhaus tradition in its design and of course in the music festival itself held there each summer.  Everything is better with the arts involved.

Today, just now, I write to you here fairly giddy with relief, gratitude and a sense of overwhelming possibility.  I have *finally* (after literally years of frustration and hemming and hawing) upgraded my tech tools here in the studio.

I’ve invested in a more travel worthy laptop machine for writing and photo-manipulation on the road, and even opted for a large home-base monitor when I am at my desk in the studio.  Sometime today (*hopefully*) a little scanner will arrive and I’ll get that set up as well.  All of this is in keeping with the plan to get more work made and into the world.  Let’s be fair, I work.  I work a lot.  In some ways I am never NOT working.  But so much of my energy was going into technical glitches and the waiting and slowness of manipulating photos on outdated technology.  If I was to engage in a blog post, I needed a solid day to get it made.  And so, I found myself putting off writing.  I have so much work to share, but with an old scanner, my work never translated well to digital, and so it took a lot to get it tech-ready for sharing online or presenting for publication or applying for grants and residencies.  With some encouragement from Vanessa at NessyPress and moral support from the Hub, I took the plunge and threw the necessary gold coins into the abyss to get the tools I needed.

It took some doing, and a few trips to the computer store and calls to the tech folks at apple, but we managed to get it sorted.  And here I am, knocking out an update here in a more prompt and succinct manner.  This feels sustainable.  It was time for this investment.

But tech tools aren’t the only important thing, of course, merely being the vehicles by which the work is dispersed in this world.  I also took a bit of time to make a traveling oil paint set up.

Watercolor is generally my go to travel companion.  I have the set up I love, a little traveling “van” in which to cart it all, and it really works.  Even so, I pine for the oils when I find myself in beautiful places.  Our family trip to Maine, coming up later this summer, is a perfect combination of loads to do combined with plenty of “down time” to just play.  That play might be on the water, catching up on books we’ve been meaning to read, or perhaps trying new recipes with one’s best friend in tiny kitchen at camp.  But there is always more time, and that is when I start feeling restless, wishing I’d brought some oil paints to play with.

So I put together a handmade pochade box of sorts, crafted from an old wooden cigar box, plus a little carrier for any wet panels I may want to bring home.

The pochade box is pretty sturdy, and the wet panel carrier will do until I decide if this is something I may do again and again.  All in all I spent about $20.  A worthwhile investment on vacation satisfaction I do believe.

Upon returning from Aspen, I felt overwhelmed with home chores and the work needing caught up on at the shop and in my own studio.  And so for the first day or so, I just painted and played music.

This practice set my head on straight and I was then able to sink into the tasks at hand.  I am deeply grateful for all of it.  I often think that in this day and age, it is difficult to remember to take a few minutes to breathe.  To play a tune, paint a picture.  There are Big Things we must tackle (did you hear Amy McGrath is taking on Mitch McConnell??),  situations we must face, as heartbreaking as they are (there has to be a better, kinder, more humane way forward at the border, don’t you think?).  Life is complex, and tormented at times, but it is also beautiful and simple in many ways as well.  It always has been.

Next week I am off once again for my own musical adventure at the Swannanoa Gathering in North Carolina.  On the one hand, this week is truly a get-away-from-it-all Brigadoon of sorts where we forget the world outside, focus on learning tunes and improving our craft and catch up with dear friends who have become musical family over the years.   But on the other hand, it is so much more.

This week at music camp, and for that matter, my week of teaching in Taos each year, are a form of deep magic.  Magic which in some way counteracts all of the darkness we see through our screens in this modern age.   The very human physicality of coming together to play tunes, sing songs, laugh and cry together over the year’s happenings, somehow counteracts the “badness” in the news.  It’s not a cure all to be sure.  But it is the way many of us take respite from it all, if only for a moment, in order to get back out into the world and do the work.

Artists confront the difficult in this world.  Just look online at the work of artists during WW1 who were interpreting the previously unimaginable through their paintings.  I personally have taken to avoiding the echo chambers of social media for my own outrage over the state of things nowadays.  But I have my ear to the ground.  I support candidates who are doing good things in the world.  I take to the streets as needed.  I volunteer with and support the vulnerable.  But I also seek joy.  And beauty amidst the outrage.  For if I, or any of my artist friends begin to lose perspective (and isn’t it so easy to do?) then we amount to nothing.

It is my hope to be a source of light in the darkness in this modern age.  A reminder there is a place by the hearth-fire for anyone who needs a break between difficulties.  We cannot do it all, let alone singlehandedly.  Art and Joy, Music and Friendship, Beauty and Solitude are worthy pursuits, even in this fast paced, crowded,  often seemingly ugly world.  Let us make art and music.

More on the Big Work at Swannanoa here:

Musical Activism

Response on the Eve of Brigadoon

For now, I bid you fare well, and I’ll see you in Maine…….

Follow