This week marked my sixty-third sail around the sun, and feeling no diminishment by added years. In fact I embrace them. I feel fuller, richer, and more calm now than I have in my youth. Keep the bumbling, awkwardness, the naiveté, thank you very much; as long as I can keep the body in good health within my control.
This week also is host to my best “Artist’s date” yet. Currently I’m sequestered in Emily Carr’s historical artist’s studio for three days; soaking in the ambiance. I am re-reading the books I have about her as I take in the exact location she inhabited, the very spot where her life’s work came out of obscurity, where, in my mind and in the minds of many, she took her (unofficial) place as a member of the Canadian Group of Seven, representing the West. But then, she is in good company as a non member; Tom Thompson, the artist most thought of as part of the group also is not. So, if you’ll excuse this brief post, I’ve got to get back to it.