I'm still right here, giving blood, keeping faith.

My apologies to my readers for my silence. I am making art, which is always a good thing. It appears the slump has passed, or at least just faded away. There was no big bang, or major revelation that spurred my recent creativity, it just crept back in, silently, as it's done many times in the past. I'm grateful, but wish I had more insight to the workings of my own artistic mind. I'd love a guidebook on how to not fall into a rut again, but I know at some point, I'll feel less than inspired, and the cycle will repeat. For now, though, I am creating.

Lately, my mind is all over the place. Many days, my mind, as well as my heart, is in a secluded spot by Rush Creek, off of Highway 395 in the Eastern Sierra Nevada mountains of California. It's a familiar place that I've been many times. Nearby, several aspen trees bear the carvings my brothers and I made on past visits. Behind me is a flat-topped hill with 360 degree views of the surrounding mountains. It's so quiet there you can hear the earth breathing.

Other days, I find myself thinking of the high desert of the American southwest. Red rock country. Another home for my heart.

The traveler in me is restless, and has been for a very long time. I yearn for the ocean, canyons, sagebrush, mountains the scope of which Virginia can't touch, endless night skies where the stars burn brighter than you could ever imagine and roads that lead to new, magnificent discoveries that take your breath away. Forever the dreamer, that's me.

I seek to pour this longing into my artwork. Not sure if I'm succeeding yet, but that's never stopped me before.

Mixed media tentacle triptych made for a swap with an online friend and fellow artist.