"The Landing"

Mixed Medium

36"x36"

The moment I touched down felt too abrupt, too soon. The earth beneath me seemed to rise up unexpectedly, and with it, the profound sense of calm and freedom I had just experienced in the sky began to fade. My feet hit the ground, and the rush of the jump evaporated almost instantly. I felt a strange longing—an urge to return to the sky, to experience once more that weightless suspension between earth and air. The landing, while safe, was almost a disappointment, as if the journey had ended before I was ready to let it go.

In many ways, this moment of coming back to earth mirrors a feeling I often have after creating. There are times when I’m deeply immersed in the process of making—when everything flows effortlessly and the work seems to take on a life of its own—and then suddenly, the moment passes. The piece is done, the brushstroke is final, and the feeling of immersion fades. I’m left with the desire to hold onto that feeling, to return to the space where time didn’t matter, where creation felt limitless.

Just as I wanted to jump again, to feel the thrill and the peace of the sky, I often find myself returning to the studio with the same yearning. It is in the moments after creation—when the work is finished, when the inspiration has subsided—that I crave the experience of losing myself in the process once more. The landing reminds me that, in both skydiving and in art, the moments of deepest connection can feel fleeting, but they always leave me wanting more. It is this desire to return, to push further, that keeps the cycle of creation alive.