They are peeling paint, revealing past years inspirations, dreams, ideals.  

All sprawled upon the front lawn under sunny Colorado blue skies, we laugh and remember.  So many memories (so much growth) tucked in layers of paint!  Every year we say that.

They are imagining anew, defining who they are today, telling their story with paint upon their Camp trunks.

As I expected last summer, I am sitting, talking, watching, oohing-aahing...but no longer painting.  Yet another job I have worked myself out of.  But the memories and tradition remain... and thats all I wanted when I started this practice with Savannah 7 years ago, and Peyt 5 years ago.  These simple trunks are blocks of material used in the construction of who we are together and who they are individually.

I delight in watching them dream aloud, brush in hand.  Actually, delight barely covers what I feel.

They are so excited, so happy.  They always are as we count down the days, hours, before we leave for Camp.

If you have no idea what I am talking about, read here.

And if you know exactly what Im talking about but want to read my thoughts on it 5 years ago, read here.