Maria has many faces, and while I haven’t gotten to know all of them, and I never claim always to know what she is thinking, I’ve learned some of what the faces mean.

The one above is Maria sitting across from me, but in a faraway place I call Artland.

In the dining room, she is physically present across from me. But in fact, she is really out in the woods or her studio plotting colors and sorting through fabrics or magnets or her beloved potholders.

I would guess Maria thinks about her art 70 or 80 percent of the time, sometimes without even knowing it. She might say the same thing about me and my writing; in fact, she has. But I’m writing this post; she can write her own.

We understand this trait in one another; it makes me smile. Maria is one of the most creative people I’ve known.

I meet many people who talk about being writers and artists, but very few ever really go for it; most people are naturally and perhaps understandably inclined towards safety and security. Few writers or artists have those things. That’s the deal – you get your life but not necessarily peace of mind.

Neither of us is ever very far away from our work, but I am lucky to have captured this particular face on my camera.  There is always something going on behind those eyes.

I am even more fortunate to look at this face all night and much of every day. It is a beautiful face, every single one of them.