Visual Journey 61

From the Pines of Maine to the Deserts of the Southwest

There is an interconnectedness to all things that I cannot yet fathom. Witnessed in the paintbrush mark, the single, solitary sunflower, bare feet on brown earth, caves unseen by human eyes, a grain of sand, the depths of the ocean, a noisy and quiet mind, spread wings of a bird, red dust scattered across a desert sky-unraveling, unbecoming, becoming.

Hello Everyone,

I want to share a few changes to this Visual Journey newsletter. As my life shifts, so too will this space. I’m still discovering what form it will take, but whatever emerges will come from deep intention, openness, and trust in the unfolding.

For nearly four years, Northern Maine has been a sanctuary—a place where my family and I slowed down, lived simply, and reconnected with creativity and each other. We made a home in the woods, and in that stillness, we found parts of ourselves we didn’t know we’d lost. It took time to settle into Maine’s rhythm, to let our bodies and minds catch up to its quiet wisdom. The lessons we’ve learned here will stay with us, always.

Now, with a mix of gratitude, excitement and sorrow, we’re preparing to say goodbye and begin again—wiser, more grounded, more ourselves.

Our new home will be in the high desert of northern New Mexico. I’ll be returning to full-time teaching in July, and together we’ll begin a new chapter. It’s a place that once held me, briefly, over two decades ago—and it has called to me ever since. This move, spanning more than 2,000 miles, is both a homecoming and a leap forward.

Northern New Mexico is a land of vast skies, sacred mountains, and ancient adobe. It’s a place where cultures meet and time stretches. The light there is different—clearer, sharper. There is space to breathe, to create, and to grow.

We’re leaning into this transition with open hearts, and I look forward to sharing the journey with you.

The small seed carried by great and moving winds becomes the tree rooted in the stream bed, meadow, forest woodland, or mountain top. Scatter your seeds, generously, in the hopes that they are carried far and wide.

*Join me for my last watercolor workshop in Maine at Fields Ponds in Brewer. There are a still a few spots left. Visit Maine Audubon to learn more and register.

Love and Gratitude,

All art and Writing ©️Charlene Lutz 2025