Joshua Tree
30 x 40” acrylic on canvas, framed in a goregous rosy maple.
This fall, Pat and I spent a lot of time in deserts - mainly a trip to Joshua Tree and an epic backpacking trip to Havasu Falls. There’s so much space to think in desert landscapes: the massive sky, the wide horizon, and the quiet all make them feel perfect for reflection.
At the time, I was really debating whether I should pursue art full time, split my time between art and some consulting projects, or take on a new full time role. Looking back, I can see that I was absolutely being hemmed in by some mental boundaries about what “work” should look like, what was possible from a creative standpoint, and the underlying idea that creative pursuits and professional aspirations stood in opposition to one another, rather that working in tandem.
When we finished our hike out of Havasu, after 4 days with no reception, I checked my phone and had a message from a recruiter, asking me to interview for a dream job. I’ve since started that job, and I am wildly happy about it. I think the timing of that trip and that call was meant to be; a stint in the desert helped me start to question the assumption that I had to choose either art or my love of education. It’s a boundary I didn’t know I was confined by at the time, but from my vantage point, I just couldn’t yet see it.
I like to think that piece captures some of that - its got the stillness and beauty of Joshua Tree (especially the rosy boulders that rise up across the landscape), but I’ve also included a white boundary around the image, just off center enough to make it noticeable. Often, we grow so accustomed the boundaries that delineate our lives - our habits of thinking, our routines, our social circles - that we forget they even exist. Calling attention to them is the first step to making sure the boundaries we live by are by choice, not by default.
30 x 40” acrylic on canvas, framed in a goregous rosy maple.
This fall, Pat and I spent a lot of time in deserts - mainly a trip to Joshua Tree and an epic backpacking trip to Havasu Falls. There’s so much space to think in desert landscapes: the massive sky, the wide horizon, and the quiet all make them feel perfect for reflection.
At the time, I was really debating whether I should pursue art full time, split my time between art and some consulting projects, or take on a new full time role. Looking back, I can see that I was absolutely being hemmed in by some mental boundaries about what “work” should look like, what was possible from a creative standpoint, and the underlying idea that creative pursuits and professional aspirations stood in opposition to one another, rather that working in tandem.
When we finished our hike out of Havasu, after 4 days with no reception, I checked my phone and had a message from a recruiter, asking me to interview for a dream job. I’ve since started that job, and I am wildly happy about it. I think the timing of that trip and that call was meant to be; a stint in the desert helped me start to question the assumption that I had to choose either art or my love of education. It’s a boundary I didn’t know I was confined by at the time, but from my vantage point, I just couldn’t yet see it.
I like to think that piece captures some of that - its got the stillness and beauty of Joshua Tree (especially the rosy boulders that rise up across the landscape), but I’ve also included a white boundary around the image, just off center enough to make it noticeable. Often, we grow so accustomed the boundaries that delineate our lives - our habits of thinking, our routines, our social circles - that we forget they even exist. Calling attention to them is the first step to making sure the boundaries we live by are by choice, not by default.
30 x 40” acrylic on canvas, framed in a goregous rosy maple.
This fall, Pat and I spent a lot of time in deserts - mainly a trip to Joshua Tree and an epic backpacking trip to Havasu Falls. There’s so much space to think in desert landscapes: the massive sky, the wide horizon, and the quiet all make them feel perfect for reflection.
At the time, I was really debating whether I should pursue art full time, split my time between art and some consulting projects, or take on a new full time role. Looking back, I can see that I was absolutely being hemmed in by some mental boundaries about what “work” should look like, what was possible from a creative standpoint, and the underlying idea that creative pursuits and professional aspirations stood in opposition to one another, rather that working in tandem.
When we finished our hike out of Havasu, after 4 days with no reception, I checked my phone and had a message from a recruiter, asking me to interview for a dream job. I’ve since started that job, and I am wildly happy about it. I think the timing of that trip and that call was meant to be; a stint in the desert helped me start to question the assumption that I had to choose either art or my love of education. It’s a boundary I didn’t know I was confined by at the time, but from my vantage point, I just couldn’t yet see it.
I like to think that piece captures some of that - its got the stillness and beauty of Joshua Tree (especially the rosy boulders that rise up across the landscape), but I’ve also included a white boundary around the image, just off center enough to make it noticeable. Often, we grow so accustomed the boundaries that delineate our lives - our habits of thinking, our routines, our social circles - that we forget they even exist. Calling attention to them is the first step to making sure the boundaries we live by are by choice, not by default.