Stinnett

Last week, I was driving home from a visit with my parents along 287 in the Texas Panhandle. I've made this drive dozens of times and it usually makes me sleepy. I also grew up in the area, and you know what familiarity breeds (in my case? An unsettling hunger for brisket). For the most part, the countryside is unchanging and the sky is immense, so sleepiness might be the natural response.

Since I left my full time job last fall, I've been trying to pay attention. My default has always been to numb my feelings and to distract myself. (tbh I still spend too much time messing with my phone-shoutout to Candy Crush!). This time, I tried to pay more and better attention.

Everything I noticed, I've seen before, but my brain had turned it all into white noise. The symmetry of the wind turbines (especially when there's dozens of them) is eerie and futuristic. The hue of the red dirt looks like something you'd see in a museum, made up by an artist. It's so rich and deep and textured. The sky feels nearly infinite.

I'm painting this piece to try to capture some of that sense of width and breadth and loneliness.

I hope your day is beautiful!

Some notes:

1. I know Stinnett is not on 287. I just liked the name.

2. Autocorrect suggestions for when I tried to type "infinite" above: "info I", "information", "Anfernee", "antenna hole". I have big ole fingers that are a bad fit for a touch screen

3. Comedy comes in threes, just like Moe, Larry, Curly and also Shemp.