It feels unreal how quickly time is moving by lately. Days slip into weeks, a month passes in the blink of an eye, and suddenly March is just around the corner when it seems the new year only just began. As I muse over this, it makes me want to ensure that I’m taking time to appreciate the fullness of small moments, good company and time well spent.
In November two of my best pals came to visit, and we drove up to Asheville to enjoy an evening of our favorite things - fresh guacamole and live music. These are my people, my friends that I can be my complete self with. Sitting across from them in a bagel shop the next morning, with Paul Simon playing overhead and a warm mug of coffee between my hands, I felt full - and not just from the bagels.
(Listen, when you wait in a line outside for 20 minutes before you even make it through the door, you know you’re about to eat a phenomenal bagel and you’re going to need to order two. They were in fact, phenomenal. Shoutout Button & Co. Bagels)
Enjoying our reunion and the fall weather, I spent a perfect day with my friends wandering shops and record stores. When it was time to head back, we decided to take the scenic route home.
I’ve been busy in the studio working on several new pieces for ArtXtravanganza, an upcoming show in Knoxville, Tennessee. But as I was drawing into this one, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander back to that blissful weekend. No rush and no real agenda. Enjoying small moments, inside jokes, and pulling over to watch the last bit of sun slip behind the smokey silhouettes of mountains in the distance.
Amid the peaks and valleys that every year is bound to bring, it’s such a beautiful privilege to curate our lives with people. To pick the people we grow with - who challenge us, support us, and inspire us. The ones who will be there to take in the views, and binge watch terrible Hallmark movies.
The people we surround ourselves with matter. They become part of our landscapes, part of our stories. I like to think that my paintings can tell stories - the story of a feeling, a moment, and a place. When you look at this piece, I don’t expect you to hear the crunch of autumn leaves and the Allman Brothers CD we played on repeat. I don’t expect you to see the outlook where we pulled over to soak up the beauty of the Carolinas. But perhaps it will stir up a memory of your own. Perhaps it will offer a moment of pause for you to make your own connections.
I hope that the story I offer can weave into one of your own, and whenever you have the chance - I hope you take the scenic route home.