My inspiration comes from life, nature, and the activity of wildlife and plants.  My best stories and poems occur to me while I'm outside digging in the garden, covered in dirt.  My favorite art comes from watching bugs and fish and birds, seeing the patterns that no human or computer could ever recreate, but I try.  The chevron stripe on a blue jay's tail fascinates me.  The red speckled spot on a house finch will hold my attention for as long as the bird sits still enough to see it.

The last couple of weeks were a little rough.  My dog passed away, which was expected because he was sick for a long time, but unexpected because I kept thinking we had more time.  I took it harder than perhaps I should have or perhaps most people would.

I did my best to keep up with posts and painting and all my other life activities that have to be done.  But whereas some artists of the past (and maybe the present) used their adversity to express emotion through their art, I am the opposite.  Sadness tends to suck the inspiration right out of me.

Now that I've had a little time to grieve, I'm painting again, working on my new studio, and trying to enjoy some cooler weather I hope is coming down the pike.  Today's highs were in the upper 80s.  I am very much looking forward to autumn.  She's running a bit late.