The past 4 years have been like an endless ultra marathon where I’ve learned more about the struggles of my ancestors than I ever imagined. It’s also been a time of growth and clarity.

It’s been 8 months almost to the day since I got off my last flight and been in LA. I thought I would spend more quality time with the city I called home but had basically abandoned in the future but not nearly so soon. Nonetheless it’s taken months to feel reconnected to California and I wasn’t really able to do that until I spent some time alone in nature like I did yesterday.

The solo beach walk is a Californian rite of passage. A dialogue between woman and nature. Time escapes and ideas flow. Some people respond to the other elements, but I sway to the emotions of water. The sounds of it clear my mind. The environment around it – the sea life, the sand, the rocks, captivate me. And I’m able to get into a headspace that makes me feel connected to the best parts of myself, the part that cares about sustainability, about all living creatures in the environment, not just humans, and to imagine all the possibilities of what we can do to not only conserve, but nourish these communities so they can thrive in the world we share.

I’ve spent a lot of time looking at art in the manmade world, in white boxes and warehouses, instantly trying to understand often complex ideas that can’t be gobbled up like visual snacks, fast gimmicks that please the eye and pleasurable senses. I’ve not spent nearly as much time observing and absorbing the art of our natural world, the objects that drift in and out of our environment, that move with the tide or season. Art that is more slow and sensuous, that reminds us we share the same ecosystem with the elements and too often we abuse it for effect. And I regret that my viewpoint has been limited. But it’s never too late to begin expanding perspective. And so here we are.