I walk out the door of my home away from home of Corona del Mar to the most brilliant seascapes, a plein air artist's dream. Too numerous are the choices to set up my easel from Laguna to Newport, from the shore to the backbay. My permanent home has artists longing to visit as well for its local color, vast vineyards and oak studded hills. So with all of this at my fingertips, why do I long to travel? How I would love to paint in the South of France or the hill towns of Tuscany. My heart finds rest in the canals of Venice. My soul yearns for a peaceful, remote island with nothing but lush flora and fauna and contrasting soft white sand beaches... and a big supply of paint.
Shouldn't I be content with wherever God has me? Where does this wanderlust come from? Noted poet, Charles Baudelaire wrote, "Carriage, take me with you! Ship, steal me away from here! / Take me far, far away. Here the mud is made of our tears!" Not that home is all misery and tears... dishes and laundry maybe... (ok -misery and tears). But maybe this explains a bit. Getting away from the daily tasks and distractions can give more focus; and being less accessible allows us this necessary time and space. Perhaps just stimulating our brains with new sites, sounds and smells can give needed inspiration and nudges to create.
If you could plant an easel anywhere, where would it be? It's quite fun to dream. I am thankful for the surroundings with which God blesses me... and I will pray to be content and trust that He has me here for a plan far better than anything I or my travel agent could come up with. On days that this is more difficult I can still thank God for the imagination he has given me. I can close my eyes, dream of a destination, open them and paint. God is good indeed.