Dream Big, Kid

I’m moving from Houston to east Texas – about 230 miles – for a reason deeper than just living in an RV and making it pretty. With aging parents and family in north Texas, I decided to move out of Houston. Nearly twenty years (this tour, anyway) having countless experiences, developing my art and style, meeting acquaintances, and gathering fantastic friends into my heart, I suddenly ripped my perfectly wonderful life up by the roots and set off for a completely different life. It’s a risk I’ve done a couple of times with great results, so I had to just go with the feeling.

It hasn’t been easy packing up a 2240+ square foot house and squeezing my big, fat life into a 350sf tin can, but I’m doing it. They tell me it’s for all the right reasons. I’m still figuring that one out…

I want to help my sister take care of my mom and to see my dad and his wife more often: The base of why I made such a massive life change. I also want to lessen my load, to get rid of debt and all its stress, to live a more simple life and, in the process, discover myself. Again.

It’s time to build a Dream ~ being an artist, I have this deep desire to create an artists’ retreat. I’m living in the RV temporarily so I can sell my house, then find a patch of Earth to buy and settle down on, maybe build a small house, maybe a barnhouse studio (a Barnudio!), hold workshops and lectures, have over-nighters and over-weekers stay and create. I Dream of artists and writers, of those who’ve never painted or sculpted, as well as late-career artists who will teach me how to be freer with my own creativity. The only way to do this was to leave Houston and all I’d known and come to love these nearly twenty years.

Maybe a coincidence that, several days before the ‘Big Move’ March 23rd, 2019, there was an enormous fire at a chemical plant south of Houston that filled the air with toxic smoke and rained charred chunks of god-knows-what onto people’s yards and homes. The day before the move I had stepped outside to get something from the shed; immediately my lungs and eyes were burning. For me, it was a sign that we needed to stick to this plan and get out. Even now when I visit, I come away with a slight cough and congestion. Clears up pretty fast once I get back to the country.

This is a story of a life that’s had more moves and bumps in the road than I’d ever imagined as a little girl.
It’s the hard parts they don’t mention when we’re told “Dream Big, kid!”