Something is overtaking me. I felt it recently while walking in rain, when most of my interesting or sometimes great notions manifest.
I am becoming a visual artist and visual artist entrepreneur.
The overtaking began when:
I had just shored up a driftwood fort that I photographed for an upcoming gallery show.
I had just collected another keyhole limpet for the magical necklaces I make and sell.
I had just placed a sand dollar atop two rain-soaked mushrooms just off the dune trail as a kind of mini, far out sculpture of nature, in nature, that would surely delight any person who happened along it.
I had just used a stick to form a heart out of elk scat to offer a stark metaphorical contrast between the shape and the material that would surely unsettle or amuse any beachcomber who bothered to check out elk scat.
I had just picked up an exquisite piece of beaverwood for an upcoming gallery show in collaboration with Oregon Coast beavers. I’m going to make a fortune and donate it all to the beavers!
I had just constructed a driftwood sculpture that would blow out with the next incoming tide and a man walking at the edge of the ocean gave me a big thumbs up as he marveled at my creation. He would most likely be the only person to see my art—the truest definition of a man-show I’ve ever encountered. I will also add that a little dog came up to the sculpture and took a power whiz on it. So it was a one man-one dog show as well because the dog would have never come over without the sculpture to amaze him. I’m making art for dogs, too!
I walked and walked and walked. I am going beyond writing and publishing into new frontiers of Oregon creativity. I’ll bring the words along, of course, but they will perhaps serve other purposes than before.