transitions

After an uneventful, if long, journey from Bilbao by train, bus, and taxi, I am in Farrera, Spain, at the Centre d'Art i Natura for the start of my three-week artist residency. Farrera sits at the head of a valley high up in the eastern Pyrenees, as the photograph at left attests. The scenery is dramatic and all-encompassing, and as summer winds down, the first signs of the transition to autumn are evident in the trees and shrubs. There are still plenty of wildflowers to attract butterflies, but the wild berries are also fully ripe, and the birds are constantly in and out of the thickets.

Just as the seasons are in transition here, so this has been a transitional day for me. I unpacked and settled in, and could feel myself shifting from vacation mode into studio mode. By the time I took a walk in the afternoon, I could be fully present in the shifting sunlight and shadow, listening to birds and lizards rustling in the bushes, feeling the soft air on my face. I had spent much of the morning reviewing my thoughts and notes about the residency and the things that I would like to explore while I am here. I reveled in the luxury of not needing to turn my attention elsewhere: What a gift.

True to my intent to pay more attention to my inner state, I did sort of a mood assessment as I walked, and the main things I felt were peace and sheer pleasure in being here. I didn't try to take it any further, artistically. Although I spent the late afternoon getting my studio space organized and some panels ready to paint, the real work begins tomorrow. I have set up a few different projects, ranging from full-blown 16"x 20" acrylic paintings, to daily drawing exercises, to small watercolor impressionistic postcards. I want to give myself some choices of activity as I work my way more deeply into painterly expression. I also want to feel free not to need every piece to be successful, and the multi-project approach should help that. If I can keep my attitude one of curiosity ("what will happen if...?"), I should be able to avoid too many moments of discouragement. This is not the be-all and end-all of my painting life; it is just an opportunity to investigate deeply what I love to do.