A long walk. A painter’s life.

Doubling down on what’s been resonating.

In June of 2024, I took a long walk through Portugal to Spain, participating in the Camino de Santiago with my son. It took about 14 days and we covered over 200 miles with a little additional hiking sandwiched in. I personally had never done something like this and was a bit nervous.

Many questions rolled around in my head.

Could I actually do it? Most days yes, but one day of heat exhaustion was a definite no! Would I be in pain? A lot at first but it soon evened out. On our final day I walked 17 miles with a shin splint, but I did it! Would I be okay away from the comforts of my home and studio? Yes, I actually was.

And there were so many surprising outcomes.

When you walk this many miles at a time, you get into a routine. Wake up, coffee, stretch, get ready and walk. And walk. And walk. We would typically walk about 9-10 miles before we broke for lunch then walk another 4 - 10 to our next destination. Next day, do it all over again.

Our bodies are made to move. Something happens when the movement is continual and you are no longer thinking about it.

So many people ask me what did you talk about? What did you glean from this experience? What did you think about?

Mostly, we walked. A little talking to each other and to others, but mostly I settled into myself. Thoughts at first were about the walk and how much my calves hurt or how heavy my backpack was. But usually an hour in, I was in motion and my thoughts quieted.

I discovered the amazing gift of being outside for 8 or more hours a day with nothing more to do than to walk.

The best part of this whole experience was noticing that my thoughts dissipated completely and were replaced by a fully present awareness. Aware of the next step, a fig tree, sounds of water and wind. Noticing my breath, the sound my shoes made on different surfaces, the sweat on my back. I was alerted to all and for the entire day!

All the noise that can be a constant in the mind, just disappeared. It was freeing. It brings you back to yourself.

Now that I’m back home, I continue my usual walks but I also add a long walk once in awhile. A walk with no purpose or destination. Just me and my backpack walking 10 miles, 14 miles, 20?. It’s amazing how much you notice about your own surroundings when you walk for this long.

At the final destination people are celebrating, resting and relishing the accomplishment.

What does a long walk have to do with painting?

It occurs to me now that a painter’s life is very much like a long walk. While there is a destination, it is the walk itself that is the best reward.

Most painters that I resonate with don’t make art to be noticed. They make art because they have to. Without it they are not themselves. Time away from painting creates a restlessness that others don’t quite understand.

It is the process of painting, not the end result, that keeps us going!

Painting, like walking brings you squarely into the present. A subject I’ve been thinking a lot about lately.

As a painter, I am constantly painting who I am and what I am experiencing at that moment. My work shifts as I shift. For me, there is no other way. I can’t go backward. Only forward. Each painting moves me in the direction of the current moment.

Feeling a shift in the air.

After the walk, I felt transformed. But I wasn’t clear on why yet. I had a lot of absorbing to do. And then I realized that for me, it was time to double down on my love of the outdoors, the natural world and being physically present in it. This was me: as a person and an artist. It was time to fully own this aspect of my painting practice.

When I got back to my studio, new things started to happen in the work. An excitement was blossoming. Everything I felt on the walk was being experienced in a new way on the canvas.

The painter’s life is a journey. It’s not about followers, sales, or being famous. It’s not even about how many paintings you can make. Being a painter is about connecting to who you are at that given moment and finding your way to express it on the canvas. This is what excites me. This is what keeps me going.