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We Dangled Our Feet off the Edge- Rocky Gorge, New Hampshire

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Following the adventures I had back at the end of May….yes….i’m terrible at getting around to editing and posting things, it’s a thing i’m working on. Kinda. Sorta. Ok, moving on…

To say that having this place to ourselves, getting to climb around the rocks with the water rushing all around us, laughing from the sheer joy of being surrounded by such beauty… to say that i’ll ever forget that evening spent with a grin streched across my face a million miles wide and seeing a matching one on Kats face…to say anything short of “this right here, this was a special kind of perfection “ wouldn’t be the truth.
~m

Coffee,sketches and dreams of mountains in North Texas

Sweater Weather (or as close as it gets in Texas) – Sketch Sunday

In-between the inspiration Gettin' Creative in North Texas

Sweater weather here in north Texas starts around the end of September/beginning of October, giving people like me an excuse to start wearing utterly unfashionable outerwear and drink hot tea in the middle of the day. My friends who live in the truly cold climates of Norway, Canada, England and even just the North Eastern states here in the US like to make fun of my excitement for chill winds, but I tell them that until they experience the please-just-shoot-me-already-devil’s-armpit that a Texas summer can be, they can just leave me and my sweaters in happy peace.

Coffee and Little birds sketch Embroider Thread and Art Mountain Drawing, Lets get Topographic

Long sleeves running past my hands, dancing a pencil around a page, steam curling upwards from any one of my coffee cups stashed around my desk, listening to odd playlists while singing along out of key… it’s a small paradise in a tiny stasis shell. I draw the mountains I long to see everyday, little birds from my childhood memories that flutter onto pages with ease, and surround myself with art books, comics, letters from penpals and at least 6 tabs open on my macbook.

Sweater Weather sketch Fink Lyrics Sketch inspiration Coffee,sketches and dreams of mountains in North Texas

Maybe out in the real world I have to pretend that I don’t daydream all the time, hold conversations that have nothing to do with different realities or the intricate beauty of prose, hold my limbs in peace and not deliriously shatter in all directions but …in this moment, graphite dust smeared up and down my hands, the light fading in the sky, headphones on and drowning out everything but a perfect rhythm, I am content and loveliness is caught in the cup of coffee that I bring to my lips.

~m

90’s memories- Night Photography Practice

Night photography postcards

postcards in the dark

postcards in the dark

texas lights

Camera in hand, lights turned off except for the tiny blazing bulbs of small moons cascading down my shelves. Something about it all reminds me of the 90’s, in an abstract sort of way. Memories of ice cream cones at Central Park in the time before cell phones, Seinfeld playing in the background of summer bar-b-ques, car rides with Savage Garden playing on repeat, humid summers running around under fire hydrant water sprays in Queens, and tiny plastic butterfly clips in my hair. The millennium came and went but the 90’s still live on in tiny spaces of time, behind postcards and underneath low lights.

~m

This Fort

Across the River, A Fort- A Brief Reflection on Traveling

Old Fort Western

Old Fort Western, Augusta Maine I have this thing (which I believe that most travelers share) of not being able to visit a new place without imagining, even for a moment, what it would be like to live there. To imagine your everyday routines in a different location, the mundane becoming new and the reevaluation of life through the lens of exploration. Where would you drink your coffee at, would that corner store stock your particular brand of cereal? Would you and the grocer share idle small talk about the weather?

Maine PhotographyIt doesn’t have to be a particularly noteworthy location to inspire these thoughts, somewhere shiny, glamorous and filled to bursting with things to explore and discover, a metropolis lit ablaze. Nor does it have to be remote and quiet, the remote and rustic cabin in the mountains, where you could imagine dusting away the twilight years surrounded by books and nature. It could be either or both, the same or a fair stance in between.

Augusta, Maine photography

Old Fort Western Augusta Maine River photography Anywhere i’ve ever traveling to, from gridlocked Boston to weird New Jersey, the blasting wind fields of Kansas to the  rugged twisting coastline of California,  boisterous Boulder and cool-kid-aestetic Santa Fe, to all the little place far and in-between, population 300 to population no idea there are millions here, I’ve placed myself deep in the soil and planted roots, just for a moment.

Augusta Maine, across the banks

Augusta Maine Landscape Riverfront photography

Sure, I have favorites. Who can visit Sausalito without falling in love a little.Who doesn’t wish to spend months on end in Manhattans endless museums? But theres the outliers, the Pigeon Forge, Tennessee  a whirlwind neon madness let loose at the foothills of the Smokey Mountains. Maybe you only spend half an hour there, a flash frozen memory in between giants that take up the real space in your head and heart, like the morning I spent in Grants Pass that I always seem to forget about except when prompted…

 

This Fort

Augusta Maine, Waterfront Buildings

Kat, the Lovely Kat

It doesn’t much matter the place I guess. It’s more about the mindset you have when you’re traveling, even if it’s just half a half hour from home. Arriving somewhere new, with an open,kind mind and letting yourself slip into the illusion of belonging to this place. It could be the longing to belong in what might perhaps be the perfect place to call home, or it might just be a passing whimsy, but either way it’s a lovely moment to pause and consider a different future, or to more fully appreciate where you already call home.

~m

P.S these photographs where taken in Augusta, Maine. I talked more about the time I spent there in this post.

Cupcakes, coffee and art journals

Drink Coffee, Make Art, Stay Humble- Art Journal Monday

Little Buildings, art journalling in texas

The current mood in the air here  in Northern Texas is one full of anticipation. The weather has finally started to get cooler, dropping from the triple digits into the reasonable 70’s most days. The feeling of wanting to escape, from the heat-the stress of school-impending 4th quarter craziness- whatever, has faded for now, replaced by a quiet contentment. I’ve taken to rolling around the hundreds of farm roads, short cuts and even literal dirt roads,  exploring the small little-heard of towns around here now that I don’t have to worry about the car overheating, leaving me stuck some where only cows might find me.

and you were standing there" sf sketchart time and coffee Drink Coffee, Make Art, Stay Humble Art

Coffee, wanderlust, and sketching random little things has been my jam for the last 2 weeks, as well as just trying my best to keep positive and not let little clumps of stress get to me. I’ve finally figured out the direction I want my etsy shop to head into, and to the surprise of literally no one, its headed in the direction of mountains. So  here I go, diving into topography maps, dipping into the tiny house movement some more, memorizing the shape of mountain ranges and spilling graphite all over my pages in the name of orogenesis.

Sketching sketch sketch SFscribbles in my journalCupcakes, coffee and art journalsQuit your job, come with me

September is halfway over, but I’m trying to think of it in the way of ” half full anyways”  instead, besides which my eyes are shinning with the gleam of looking ahead instead of looking back and things seem capable of anything. The only real negative in sight is that I still have a backlog of photographs to go through stretching back to January and a yearning to get out and shoot more more more so someone needs to take my camera away from me for a little bit, and lock me in my studio for an uninterrupted day. Bring lots o’ coffee.

~m