Charcoal and cray-pas
December 12, 2011
Banning State Park
On a beautiful cloudy day, I drew this piece standing on the threshold of a bridge, looking back down the path I'd just walked. Honored the transition. Waved farewell and crossed over. Stepped out onto the path. Could only see a few yards ahead. The past receding and the new revealing with each step.
How do I know when to turn from gazing at the path behind?
How do I know when to walk on?
How shall I find the courage when so much of the path is hidden and only a few yards of trail old and new are seen?
I took comfort because I could retrace my steps if I needed to. My past was not forgotten.
Merely out of sight.
I gained courage when I hiked a switchback to retrieve the art journal I'd mistakenly left beside the trail I thought I'd follow home. My story is not lost.
I can come back for myself every time.
I found curiosity rising in me as I wondered what lay ahead for me. After everything and everything, my life is beautiful.
I want to see what's around the next bend in my path.
So, I turn and walk on.
My friends, this season is coming to an end and so is this art blog.
Blessings to us all.
Farther in and higher up.
Walk on.