“The mountains were still to me a temple, where I went not to pray, but to feel the touch of the infinite.”
The lovely quote was written by a nineteenth-century prostitute whose eloquent autobiography “Madeleine” surprised me with moments of spirit-kinship. I finished the book early this morning at sunrise – which now occurs after I get home from 6 am yoga. The days are freakishly shorter upon my return after the month-long Artprize endeavor. Pre-yoga dramatic sunrises have been replaced by bold stars and crisp cold. The embrace of my cozy little cabin home in the mountains beneath an expansive ever-changing sky is tonic to a soul wearied by recent endeavors.
I took a much-needed off-grid sabbatical after my return from Grand Rapids two weeks ago. The life of a full-time artist/solo entrepreneur so far as I’ve managed involves plenty of hyper-long days but I have never put myself through such an extremely demanding marathon of a public event. The added intensity of being in the world’s largest art prize competition was excruciating (just being honest). Nineteen 14-hour days of standing next to my sculptures sharing, opening, revealing, giving, receiving, observing, explaining and smiling.
Good to be home…!