Last summer, my Mom gave me this copy of The Artist’s Way, by Julia Cameron. She had probably mentioned this book at least a handful of times before, but I was finally open to reading it. I can be a little stubborn, especially about what I read. As I read and worked through the twelve weeks of material, I thought a lot about the legacy of sharing this book with my mom. Her life, creatively lived, along with her love of fine art, gave me the permission to love art too, to admire artists and writers, and to begin to pursue writing myself. If she hadn’t been so committed to creativity as a way of life and largely incapable of living any other way, I may never have begun writing in any earnest or my writing might have stayed locked away in my journals. Now after decades of filling page after page, I understand that inability to live any other way, and I’m finally learning to embrace it.
Archives for June 2015
After talking about visiting Yosemite for long enough, availability aligned, and we made a reservation for three weeks later. We left on Friday right after work. So by the time we had arrived, it was long past dark. The climb through the mountains and the following descent to the valley floor were obvious as we drove, but all the majestic beauty had simply faded into black. The valley walls that John Muir, champion and protector of Yosemite, had described as “mountains in size,” and “so compactly and harmoniously arranged … that the Valley, comprehensively seen, looks like an immense hall or temple lighted from above.” Those walls would have to wait, at least until the next morning. Or so I thought. Mother Nature had other plans.