Artfest withdrawal. I am having it BIG time. Right NOW!
This is the last year for Artfest - and I am not there. Last year, I was there. It has been a spring ritual for years.
For those who are wondering what I'm talking about, Artfest has been an annual art retreat for many years.You live, eat and sleep art. You talk art. And oh yes, you make art. You play, you laugh, you walk in the rain lugging 68 pounds of art supplies half a mile. There are 500 people and you feel you know them all. You take 3 classes with some of the most fabulous teachers around. You live by the water in funky old military base housing, which you share with ghosts.
In other words, you are in HEAVEN.
It's a loooooong climb to get there........
Fly into Seattle, take the ferry to the island, drive over the Hood Canal, pass the paper mill (phew), drive through town and into the fort, maybe see some wildlife.
Check into Officers' Housing. Have a talk with the ghost. Decide to ignore it but turn on all the lights anyway.
See some friends. Drink some sangria.
You soak up everything from every teacher and every student - every technique, every smile, every success, every failure. Then, you journal about it.
You write and paint and pay attention.
Your drink wine and eat yummies and get silly.
Then, too soon, it's over, but not really. Because when you leave, you never forget. Because now you have learned to fly.