Honestly, I’ve been super stressed lately — working on multiple projects — navigating Covid angst, and examining that need to re-define what we do and who we are. My sanctuary is my little art studio — no matter what threat level of chaos I’m handling. On this day, I was cranking out “scribble sketches” (more on that another time) and got lost in the Byzantine patterns of marks and scratches.

My husband walks in and says, “Why are you stressing?” (He can usually feel it in the next county.) I say, “I’m a bit overwhelmed.” Josh says, “I see. But from where I stand, the artist-at-work and the artist-at-play look very much the same.”

I just got grateful. It struck me that I am one of the lucky ones. No matter how many tasks I face, or how much pressure I feel, I get to bathe in creative expression. It’s something I never appreciate enough, and pray I’ll always have.