All my downtime in recent months has generated some unintended but utterly vital introspection about my art, past and present, and that quiet deep-thinking has revealed a bold new journey ahead. With my days so often limited in terms of energy and physical capablities, I discovered that when I do make it into the studio, I desire two things: a feeling of childlike joy bubbling over in everything I create and an authentic, personal relationship with my creations. Looking back through a ten-year portfolio and reaching back even farther into the mists of my childhood, I had an epiphany of sorts, a realization that is shaping up to be a huge whirlwind of new energy and exploration. When reviewing my work, I paid attention to those pieces and processes that caused a flutter in my stomach, a smile in the corner of my mouth, a giggle, a deep sigh of contentment. I asked myself: What am I in love with? What stands in front of me as a mirror, not of my outer self but of my shy, long-neglected inner persona? What art flows from my hands and soul like so much spun gold? (Not that it is easy to do but that it emerges from me sprinkled with whimsy and light.) It took awhile, this process of review and reflection, but common threads started to emerge and those threads are going to become the weft and warp of a grand, magical carpet destined to carry me off on fresh artistic journeys and personal expressions. Some of those paths are actually old ones that I abandoned to the choking weeds of self-doubt. A few are avenues I pondered but avoided because I was so damned intimidated by others who have gone before me. Now, however, I look down at this carpet woven with all that makes me happy and wonder what's the harm in stepping on and seeing where it takes me?