Well Damn. You guys know it’s just me here right? Just me and photoshop and my studio and well, sometimes I make mistakes. I try to look things up before I print things, to run it through the internet to make sure my brain got it right the first time. I’m pretty sure I did that with this print, I stared at it- wondered if I had it the right way, googled a few things and was like- yep, you’re fine. annnnd, nope. not fine. I swapped the two words Breathe and Breath. and so we say- WELL DAMN!
After a fairly epic melt down last night in which I had my husband take away the internet so I could stop trying to delete my entire existence from it I’m in a better place this morning. People make mistakes, I make mistakes. This go ’round, I was the person that was wrong on the internet. Bound to happen eventually. It’s better to keep trying, to keep doing than to be afraid to share, afraid to make mistakes. It’s just a mistake- It’s a bummer for sure but it’s just a mistake.
I have some ideas for how to fix it, I’ll prolly print the whole damn thing again in order to wrestle control back from my insecure brain that keeps calling myself an idiot. and I’ll prolly cut the incorrect print down to a new size that just focus’s on the spiral and the mountains. But that all takes time and I figure I better explain myself somewhere so people stop sending me “you’re wrong!” emails. Mistakes can be fixed or just moved on from. So this is me, keep on keeping on.
Some days, I walk to the top of the hill nearest my house. I put on my shoes, and take off for the hills with my head full of thoughts and ideas, work and nonsense floating around and cluttering things up.
I haul up the street to the end of the asphalt, past the reservoir, onto the trail, feet crunching in the gravel.
I turn left at the V in the trail, along the edge of the mountain to the edge of the trail that looks out across the whole of the valley.
The view stretches from my far off left all the way to downtown Los Angeles and then to my right all the way out to the San Fernando Valley.
The sky is always different.
The view is always different.
Sometimes I walk further along the trail that hugs the edge of the mountains and sometimes I just stand at the highest point looking out. Looking out and taking in the view, looking at the sky and the clouds seeing how it was different from last time I looked.
I let the wind blow by me, the air smells of sage and heat. Even in the winter you can smell the bit of roasted left from when the whole of the forest burned.