Slowly (as slowly as I can afford) I come back to regular life after the trip. It’s a second summer we are traveling for two weeks to Europe, and again I am drawn into some childhood inner space that now I only rarely access.
I am from Ukraine, and the weather and temperate forest is the same in Austria and Germany as I remember from my childhood in Ukraine.
We stop along some small winding country road and my kids wander into the field full of tangled greenery and fragrant unassuming wildflowers. I want to smell, feel with my bare feet, and paint all that soft earth, green grass, still wet from recent rain. The sky is full of soft clouds and promise of the next rain soon to come.
For two weeks of our trip I don’t analyze and plan, but just watch, feel, smell, and absorb. Soon it will be time to paint.