...

here's to another trip around the sun. while i no longer celebrate thanksgiving out of respect for the genocide of millions of indigenous people, i was thankful this week as november closed. now at 48, i’ve found true happiness in profound solitude painting in a tiny studio. many people find the idea of quiet isolation, of fading away & being forgotten, particularly unsettling. but it isn’t something to fear but to embrace & accept so that we can live more honestly on our own terms. perhaps it’s all just a dream. one day I want to be forgotten like a dream. maybe the magic of being alive is realizing we get to shape the dream while we're still in it. being in a tiny studio is this dream. a brief moment to shape our own stories. a tiny sanctuary for our most honest selves to emerge, to disappear & more importantly, to be forgotten.