Monday, September 17, 2012

Jackson



Jackson was beautiful.

80 degrees in the afternoon,
near freezing at night.
Crisp. Clean. Warm.

I have visited Jackson many times before,
it's the middle place between my childhood hometown
and the place I now call home.

But I've never *seen* Jackson.

I felt like, this time around, I actually got to see some wonderful country, at a gorgeous time of year.  September in the rockies should be noted for it's awesomeness. It's by far my favorite time of year, and also my birthday month.  

I turned 28 the beginning of September. a big ol' 28. A defining number for someone who has embraced 27 like it were 50. I have spent a lot of this year growing, building, investigating, and spending a lot of time with mentors at least double my age.  People who are on their third or even fourth reincarnations...
I've been very serious about rag and stone this year.
very focused. I've worked very hard to understand my business.

And now, after this trip and these windows I've peered through,
 I don't even think I could say this caterpillar has even cocooned. But it sure is helpful to see others who have.

September in Jackson is the week of the
 Western Design Conference,
The art walk called "pallettes and palates", The locals only Art Fair in the square, and dozens of open house opportunities from galleries in the valley.

Someone said, on the bus, that Jackson 
was the Las Vegas of Art Galleries....

man they weren't kidding.

Any small town girl from Montana can tell you,
Jackson is a big pond.
lots of little fish.

Old soul or no, this weekend was an eye opener for me.
so many experiences that has lead me to know one thing.

I like what I do.
and I like who I do it with.
I am young enough to change,
young enough to want to change.
I am old enough to understand that people
sometimes are fools.
people are hard.
people are the most complex creatures.
and some people just suck.

But then there are those shiny rocks you pick up in the parking lot of some dingy motel in the middle of nowhere.
Maybe you had seen that rock a million times before,
but this time it's different.
This time you actually bend down to pick up that rock,
and slide it deep into that tiny pocket of your jeans 
that pocket you never use.

This time, that rock is a diamond.

So there's this shift I feel in me,
something older than me,
that I can hold onto.
Some understanding.

Some understanding
that experiences are diamonds too.
and they aren't always the las vegas kind.