I've been ambushed by a variety of inspirations, new relationships are starting to take root and opportunities are offering themselves like so many Costco samples (I couldn't think of a better analogy...is that a bad sign?) and I'm getting to the place where it's quickly becoming apparent that I have no idea what I'm going to feed all these kids this week and the sink is full of dirty dishes and it's just about bedtime and we haven't eaten dinner (these longer days are fooling us!). My big dreams and inspirations are hitting the ceiling of this little houseful of hungry children who look at me to direct their own bursting imaginations.
But before I realized the impending conclusion of spring break leisureliness, I found inspiration in a conversation with my dad. I promised my dad that I would sketch something and mail it to him immediately. I told him he should, too...but it might take getting mine in the mail to push him to actually do it. He's an amazing artist, but he's been undercover for a long time. Just takin' care of business I guess. There is value in always making art, if that is what you were made to do, like I was (I am forcing myself to believe that). Like he was. Like his mother before him was. I don't want to let art become a stranger to me.
So I held up my end of the sketchbook... now it's his turn.