Go West, Young Woman.

Impending Westward Expansion.  After a solid 26+ years living East of the Mississippi, some wild birdy landed on my shoulder and whispered in my ear and said, "Go West, Young Woman."  And so I shall.  I don't know what the destination is yet, but I know that the plan is simple: no plan.  It's time to shake up my world, to bite off more than I may be able to chew, to manufacture a challenge in self-confidence.  It's an exercise in Faith and Hope, muscles that are crying to be flexed, even if they end up aching a little.

And it's a long time coming.  I remember discovering Albert Bierstadt at a young age - the age when most landscapes seemed boring.  Bierstadt and the Hudson River Valley painters were not boring.  They gazed upon the great, wild, raw power of the west and brought it east, replicated in rich oil and rolled canvas, to give civilization a glimpse of what can never be harnessed.  I most love the powerful dichotomy of the mountains coexisting with the sweet details in the foreground - if you get close enough, you can see the rabbits and the bugs upon the rushes.  

Oh to be Alice and to step through to the other side.