MAPPING

Running, and when I have time, running more. The colors and forms fixed along this road are blurred lines I catch in my peripheral. A visceral drive that shames pause. Breaking laws of Sabbath, a regular habit of taking higher ground, barring sound, looking around, taking in where I’m headed, where I’ve been. It’s a sin, this not-stopping, not dropping my to-do for the view. You, wooing me into the wilderness where you tenderly speak and map out for me a territory of peaks and valleys, all your making, all my taking. The highs and lows stretch to a horizon line and define your land. My spinning vision slows... and the colors and forms take their place and I can see what was lost in haste — my position in the topography. You are the maker and the key. Now, finding North and South, judging distance, mapping it out. 
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40 X 30 in
mixed media painting