Can you see the small “sumac” (bush) behind Otis? Freshly planted, near the lake, it’s our memoriam to a very special pup that was ready to leave his physical body. Loving to the end. Otis? He misses his dear friend.

Rumi will never really leave our hearts, but he no longer needs to be in pain, worried over, patted incessantly… And his timing was remarkable. Right before my trip to DC to do my art talk. Hunter and Lynn were here to help me with the hugely emotional last week of Rumi’s company. Nika and Scott came that weekend before we headed to DC.

On the road to Washington: TRAFFIC. Summer. Anyone who owns a car was in it and on our road. We crept along, listening to ridiculous podcasts (thank you, Hunter). Once in DC, we had a day to see a phenomenal exhibit at the Sackler Museum on how a small community in Kabul had rebuilt a neighborhood using their traditional arts. There was stunning woodwork (“touch this”, said the examples), fabric dyeing, pottery, jewelry, weaving, etc., showing the truly uplifting and financially rewarding ways that art can transform a community.

Later, at the Stimson Gallery, I was pleasantly surprised by how many showed up on a Tuesday night in June for an art reception! Ahead of time, I had rehearsed a 3 minute speech. Somehow, I spoke for much longer ~ perhaps I got swept up in the excitement of being NEAR my Virginia mountains (?). Regardless, the reception continued afterwards, long into the evening.

That night, we dismantled the show and packed the art into the car. We left DC the next morning. We now were four in the car – until NYC — when we added Samsun. Another 12 hour drive, and we were back in NH.

Summer. SUMMER. Many gathered for the holiday weekend. Many meaning 12. Close family. And they have left slowly, which has given me the luxury of sweet time with an ever smaller group. Tomorrow I drive to Boston to pick up my friend from Portugal who will be here for the next few months, escaping the heat of her home.

And for my art? Yes. It’s happening. Happening alongside all this activity: dyeing new fabric, looking at work I’ve done in that past, pouring over a book of 1900’s Austrian woodcuts that were beautifully inspired by the Japanese, imagining retreats for artists and writers (and musicians). All woven into all this, yes, art.

Art, like my sweet pup, like my loving family, never leaves my heart.