We Dream. He Paints.

Drumroll 🥁.... INTRODUCING THE NEW B-LOG 🍾 

Writing, for me, has become what painting is for this friend of mine Matt Chinian (photo below): a somewhat focused, “intentional” way of paying attention to things, thinking about them, and then presenting/sharing/translating them through words and images to try and share a vision and values. 

When I visited Matt's comfortable, well-used studio (a spacious converted garage with lots of natural light and a crackling pot-belly wood stove) we had a wide-ranging conversation as I browsed the "walk-in album" of dozens of his plein air works.

After about an hour -- and a cup of great, strong coffee -- I had to go but a few thoughts crystallized.

• Here is a guy who lives in a stunning rural setting.
• He doesn't just see things, he observes and (I think) muses and "curates" the images and what they evoke for him.
• He gets a blank canvas (stacks sit on his tables).
• He picks up a brush.
• After pausing, he selects colors from piles of tubes of oil paint.
• Then the magic begins to happen: the brush becomes an extension of his eye and imagination and the paint is the medium that he uses to describe or translate his vision.

We dream. He paints.

The process itself — the “being in life” and digesting it, then putting a story out there — is fun and fulfilling. Whether through the gift of painting or composing music or using words to tell stories.

But when people get something out of it — like the pictures, are moved by the music, enjoy the story, are intrigued, or best yet remember all or parts of it and possibly receive some inspiration — well, that’s the best. 

And the funny thing about that part — since many of my stories are published in magazines read by thousands of people I don’t know and will never meet — I have no idea if that second part ever really works. Or what its impact is. 

But that’s okay. Some will, and I am fulfilled.