Finding my way by Moonlight

When I sit down in front of my paper with brush in hand, the ink beginning to drip onto my desk, I enter another world altogether. Time slows down. I speed up. The music wafting through the air settles in my chest and rises to my head, quieting my brain, stirring up my heart.

It's rare that I actually ever sketch out what I am about to paint. I don't "see" it in my head, either. I have no plan, I just feel. I just know how I want you to feel.

My paintings do not come from meticulous planning, over-analyzing, or from three critiques and a slap on the wrist for making the same mistake, again. They come from wanting to breathe. To participate in that inspiration, that respiration that unites us. We often fear just letting go. I know I do. But when I pick up my brush...it's different.

I don't know if my paintings necessarily reflect this. But, I do know that when I painted them, I enjoyed every second of it. 

So, I invite you, dear friend, to lose yourself today. In a prayer, in a song, in a dream, in the eyes of a loved one. 

Finding your way by moonlight means trusting your instinct, your intuition, your hands and your feet. Make mistakes, pick yourself up, laugh about the fall, and move forward.