There is so much pressure in a first post is there not? The feeling of a need to impress, right out of the gate? Meh, no need for silly and self-induced pressure. And so, let’s pretend I’ve been writing all along. Sharing my stories with you. Visually and linguistically tugging your heart-strings. Making you laugh even.
This is morning, late August, on a day that more closely resembles mid-September. I’ve spent time in my art studio, meandered out to the coop where I let the girls out, and they’ve followed me back to the house where I now sit. Sunshine warming my legs and coffee warming my insides, Louseen my buff Americauna jumps up for a closer look as to what I’m doing. Cicadas hum. Bees buzz. And all seems right with the world.
Mornings are like that. Before the day has started, you feel fresh and hopefully your not holding onto anything from the day before. Or maybe you are, and that’s okay… cause goodness knows I hold onto shit with an iron vice sometimes and we are all human. Can’t expect sleep to always wash away what once remained.
Whatever you may be, or it may be… mornings brings the promise of new beginning. For the sun, always rises. Even behind clouds, or storms, or rain… it comes.
I am reminded of that now, as I take in this uncommonly quiet start. To this place called a blog. Welcome to the my corner of the internet, where I will write from both places of creativity and rural life. This is where the artist and my chicken loving life unite. My inspration, my everyday get up and go. Welcome!
Growing it - Painting it - Bliss 