Trails end on a long hike. Time to paint, get high, nap and rest before the long hike home. I loved these days. My tummy was flat from a minimum of three miles a day. This was a 14 mile hike with a 20lbs pack. I would take my shoes and socks off, watch the surf, and begin to conceptualize the organization of my canvas. Laying on an elbow with squinted eyes, I would see a tilted horizon on my white canvas. I might draw the thing three or four times with a naked finger before picking up my magic pencil. A quick sketch before rolling up a fatty. At this point, I am just a medium watching the painting develop. Four hours later and I am heading back while marveling at nature and wondering who that artist was.
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