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When I was little, I would lay in the grass for hours, seeing animals in the fluffy white clouds that floated overhead. I saw many poodles, and little pigs, and fat fish and chubby ponies. And faces. Lots of faces. Some stern, some smiling, but no matter the creature, they were all looking directly at me. I would get lost just watching, and I followed them until they were gone.

If I wasn’t looking up… I was looking down. At rocks. Dirt. Branches. Acorns. Leaves. Spiders. Anything near my feet. I didn’t make a distinction then between animate and inanimate - to me, everything had feelings. Sometimes this over-awareness made it hard for me to just walk normally as I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I apologized a lot to the grass for stepping on it.

You’d be right if you guessed that I was kind of a solitary kid, not many friends. So it was up to me to amuse myself and I did that in large part just by looking at the world. Noticing things.

I guess I’m still that little kid in a way, because I still notice things that get overlooked by many. Maybe it’s less that I’m noticing, and maybe it’s more that I’m actively looking for those quiet stories.

Sure I love the grand and glorious scene of sunlight crashing it’s way through a stand of trees–but I also love finding a tiny bird’s nest revealed in those same branches. At my feet I see a kaleidoscope of color and texture - overlapping leaves and snow and shadows, and I wonder what little creatures might be housed in there, so I try to tread carefully. 

There’s a beauty in the big scene, sure. But you can also find a masterpiece in the tiny details of the world, too!

My latest painting shown here, Wet Stones, drives that point home. I was walking my pup along a lakeshore this summer and was angling for the best spot to sketch the lake. As I looked down to watch where I was stepping, I saw this intricate scene and forgot all about the broad lake view. Look at all the stuff that’s going on down there! I stared and stared in that moment at the lake, and I’m pretty sure I’ve stared at this finished painting quite possibly more than any other I’ve done. I get lost in it.

I know I’m weird but I’m glad I’m this way.