Sharing some thoughts that I expressed in a LinkedIn chat room about art making when its hard to do so. It felt good to put it in writing. This having followed a spurt of posting portfolio work from early 80's to late 90's, and seeing a thread between works that had seemed disparate. "There was a time, about 20 years ago, when I was making, exhibiting, selling my art and I had a good momentum, and was building a good platform both aesthetically with abstract works, and philosophically. Finding a way to continue that while raising a family proved difficult though, and despite a good run at simply redefining what I made (size and material wise) according to shrunken time and space, I was unable to continue for the long haul. Although I know many who have managed to keep a balance and have success at both career and the complex system that is home and family building, my energy to do so just wasn't there so I chose to focus on the latter. Picking up the baton now is proving difficult. I've made the space and have increasing time, but what I've realized is that I cannot pick up the same baton that I put down because I am simply not the same person, don't have the same perspectives that I once did, and my body has changed in ways that don't matter until I try to hold a brush for an extended time. Although I will admit to some embarrassment at having done so, I've returned to the representational landscape as a familiar "comfort food" just to get working again, hoping that in hindsight I may well see or make a connection that makes sense." Postscript: A bonus to the posting of portfolio work was a thought about how landscapes as an art form were an early, daily experience, through my mother's own watercolors of the Canada wilderness. No wonder I'm drawn to the Group of Seven.