Last year at this time I was on the annual retreat with sketchbooks and pencils in tow. I had a job pending and I was panicking because it wasn’t a simple job–it was one that required “inspiration.” As a working artist, you learn how to channel those artistic demands and force them to your schedule. But I was having problems. Nothing I drew felt especially good. The concept for the over all piece was shaky and ever changing with only a week to pull it together.

I remember the night I finished it, carefully setting the book to dry after printing the pages and casing them in. I got up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep, to look at it again and burst into tears. Torn between the fact that it was beautiful and yet I still felt there had to be someone out there it just didn’t please. A terrible moment. Painful.

So a year later. A book of a wholly different kind. This year it’s notebooks and pens I’m taking, hoping for a bit of inspiration to lead me out of the dark places I seem to wander in. A purposeful wandering, looking for the light–and its not always clear, which way I should go.

**So I’m back now and as always it was good to get away. Did I come back with something tangible? Not really. Just a few ideas of how to say things, a few notes of things I saw or heard or smelled that might someday help to lend a touch of credibility when I need it. Some photos of things I hope to remember, certainly since these are camera phone pics, and not very good.

Best of all though, I feel ready to work. Ready to take a fresh whack at it. Hoping to get some momentum out of this small hiatus and looking forward to another one before the summer is over.

Today at least I don’t mind that I’m not so far into my redraft. It will come along given time and effort and plenty of breaks in between to recharge–really recharge. I’m seeing that just not writing that day is not enough of a break. Needs to be a change of scenery, physical and mental to work it’s soothing magic.