The Road Home

Aside from the curious habit I've picked up of beeping when crossing a state line, one of the true gleeful moments of a long roadtrip is seeing your starting and ending point etched in green and white. It promises a long shower and a familiar bed in not to short, or, depending on the size of your hometown, at least finite order.


But my favorite part of getting home is walking into my studio after a prolonged absence. There is a smell in that moment that could be the most calming in the world. If I could bottle it I would, instead I can only offer you the painting that greeted me.


And due to my woefully delinquent blog posts, you may or may not see it tomorrow one month and change more complete!


-jb.