I have set myself into new directions: Southern California contains blossoms, forestry, ocean breezes, and desert dusts. There are colors built into light and life; there is death in the sands and salts of the sea.

Exploring the coast lines and the gardens of San Diego, the blooming seems to invigorate the winter months. Birds chirp and flutter through the gardens, kissing flower petals while hiding in between canopies and fronds. Pelicans ride the waves and glide into the color explosions of sunsets.

Heading east, the air gets thinner and dry. Clouds sit on the atmosphere, playing hide-and-seek with the daylight rays. Out in these arid landscapes, dust swirls and hardens the grounds. This place sees no rain, no ocean, and only timely bursts of Spring blossoms.

Life still continues in these places – locations such as Slab City, filled with the trash we discarded and re-purposed into art. Rust in colors. Thoughts spilled upon the items thrown away, accumulating here in statements and expressions.

It’s just a simple reminder of the cycle of all things. Beauty abounds in all types of locations, you just have to look for it. Sometimes it is in the silkiness of daffodils. Others it is in broken glass and old storybook pages. And in some instances, it is buried beneath the desert floor, hidden from plain sight. You just need to dig a little deeper.