Paring down, living quietly.

My second year in Germany has morphed into more of a solitary artistic existence. Meaning I have a lot of quiet time at home alone. Some might consider me antisocial. But I don't feel lonely. And I don't feel hermit-like. It feels like an in-between world. With the navy sky seeping through my windows, the fuzzy glow of incandescents dropping light across the floor and onto my pages.

I've restructured my home, moving a table into the living room for painting, and a chair to the kitchen to watch life and snow float by on lazy weekend mornings.

I want to restructure more. This quiet life feels good. There is no race to the end. With improper lighting, I create little sketches of photos I've taken. Some are hideous, others are not. But what it's really about is the scratch of the charcoal across the pages simultaneously dragging darkness and creating shadows.

Life is movement in and out of the shadows.