Chip Off the Old Artist's Block, The Artichoke, and TAW

Living East of the Mississippi has been a game changer.   Had I landed in a certain hippie mountain town as I had intended to, instead in the buckle of the bible belt, I might have not noticed how far I had wondered from my own lush path of happiness.

I found myself right where I wanted to be, all but a days drive from all the wee relatives, yet I was the furthest from myself yet.  This was good.  It forced me to notice that I had wandered off my own happy path long ago.  I had wandered down the get-payed-to-play path, and gotten lost in a tangle of benefits-and-reliability briers.  Where did my adventurous path fall off?  Why was I getting paid to simply be a drudge.  

"No more!" I shouted to the night sky. Something had to give... and it did. 

My soul sister, Artichoke Woman, found me, and brought a puzzle with her.  The puzzle was her self. Artichoke Woman found her creative self, tucked inside The Artist's Way, but she never could manage pull that stubborn sucker all the way out.  She was unable to level up, or as she would say: peel back enough layers. She asked me if I wanted to give it a shot.  I said heck yes! So there we sat on the floor of our souls, with our little rubix cubed artist's hearts trying to sort it all out.  How did that piece get all the way over there, and how will I get it back? Hey, you over there? How are you doing? Wouldn't it be cool to make this into a party and invite our closest friends? And thus our little guild of light was born.

Some tasks, though meant to be completed alone, are in fact far easier to complete, when one has a team of rambunctious and joy-filled friends rafting down the same river, laughing in the face of the scariest rapids, and cheering as one paddles through. 

Some hurdles are not meant to be jumped over, but meant to be set on fire, because I have marshmallows, and we might as well make S'mores.

I celebrate my life by slowly waking from my artistic stupor in the most enjoyable of ways.  The last 6 months have felt like a wonderful long good morning stretch. The sort of stretch I make when I wake up with the sun shining down on me, and with the knowledge that I have all day to enjoy my life, preferably with a pot of slow brewed French Press coffee on the side. I have been writing and doodling like there is no tomorrow, practicing hodge-podge methods of print making, sending letters to people I love, and going on small adventures in the aforementioned mountain town. I now travel with these wonderful women friends, through pages, personal computers, phone lines and places.

This is TAW. This is an adventure. 

This is my River!