Mesa Verde was so cool. I wanted to take up residence in an rock.

I kept worrying that I might accidentally walk off the cliff. I bet it's happened before.

I totally could grind corn, make bread, raise wild turkey vultures.

One the way back we went to Arches, unknowing that an arch had fallen a couple of days before. This little rock that kitten is holding is really...

really, really big.

We stacked rocks and hiked and explored. The sun felt so good.

We had a lot of fun. I want to go back and stay and paint for a while. Maybe I can do that sometime.

Georgia on My Mind

In the evening I go up in the desert and spend hours watching the sun go down, just enjoying it, and every day I go out and watch it again. I draw some and there is a little painting and so the days go by. Georgia O'Keeffe

I'm envisioning myself in the desert, all quiet, calm and peaceful like Georgia. The idea is a romantic one. She always looks so cool and put together. She looks like she knows stuff. She gets to have quiet evenings and paint all day. Nice.
I'm so not Georgia. At this very moment my little babies, who are supposed to be in bed, are yelping and giggleing in intervals. It's really annoying. I don't think there was a sunset tonight, but I wouldn't have seen it even if it wasn't snowing.
The thing is, I am not interested in giving up any of what I have, even the annoying yelps and giggles. I'm sure most mothers would say that. When I do yearn for a little quiet peace, or maybe to paint really big flowers, I remind myself that I get to be here instead. I get to be loved and needed and that feels like something bigger than large scale desert paintings. Maybe someday I will have a little bit of that quiet time. Maybe someday I'll even paint some bones, but right now, I get to be here.