When my mother, Ruthie, passed away, I left our home and made my way out west from Clearwater, Florida. Time was of no importance. There was no one to look after and "...no one's future to decide..." I rode on waves of grief and joy, lone gypsy with camera and a .357 Magnum. I camped along the way, stayed in mom and pop motels, slept in my car, wandered back roads and blue highways.
Six months out I headed back to Florida. When I landed in Key West, a sense of providence jolting me with the immediate connection with two women, one new to me, and the other a friend I hadn't seen since we were in our twenties. It was their kindness, generosity and shamanistic spirit that in great part made it possible for me to remain in Key West as long as I have.
I will forever be grateful for what this island has given me as an artist. Some of my best work was born here and with what I take with me, I know the best is ahead.
Next week I will be heading up to Clearwater, in the Tampa Bay Area.
I'll be staying with friends Patti and David while I get sorted out. [Thank you McAvoys]
I will be minutes away from Bay Pines VA Med Ctr...much easier to bear than the six hour roundtrip to Miami VA Hospital.
Things are coming together to convince me I'm heading to the right place at the right time.
Distance is an illusion. I will ever be at the corner of prospect and refuge.