I was awakened by footsteps approaching as I lay there sleeping, alone, in nature, under a small rock overhang that created a mini cave where I felt safe, or so I thought.

I froze.

How could this be? It was the middle of the night and I was in the middle of nature, in the middle of unknown lands, far from any roads or trails.

As they got closer, I could tell that they were below me. I was sleeping on a small ridge - about 20 feet wide, and it overlooked a small clearing that formed a sort of path.

I could also tell that they weren't made by one person, but multiple people. At least I could stay up here and let them pass by below me, without knowing I was there.

This was the second night of three nights that I committed to spending there with no food, no phone, no journal, no book, no watch, no source of entertainment or distraction.

All I had was a few gallons of water, a couple layers of clothes, a sleeping bag, and a knife.

I also committed to staying in a small area, probably about 200 square feet, for the entire duration of the 3 days and 3 nights.

Some refer to this as a "vision quest."

Two friends were with me, but there were in their own areas, far from me, so I had no contact with them. We only agreed to meet back at our car on the third morning sometime soon after sunrise.

Back to the disruptive footsteps... as they approached, I heard other noises too... sticks snapping, leaves breaking, grass being pulling, and... munching. And then I heard a long, quiet, "moo."

They were cows! Which then made me wonder, oh sh*t am I sleeping on someone's land? Is the next being to find me going to be a land owner with a shotgun?

Maybe. Maybe not. All the more reason to stay in my little corner for the next day and night and make it out in one piece.

Between the cows, some windy days, watching the full moon, the trees, and some rocks, I was shocked at how much is going on, all the time, everywhere.

I never felt bored during those three days. I also spent a lot of it sitting in meditation, both with my eyes closed, and staring off into whatever was around me.

I played little games with myself tracking the path of the sun and moon.

I imagine this is how ancient cultures learned so much about the cosmos... they simply paid attention.

Versus today where we're mostly paying attention to Netflix, the never-ending "state of the world", and Taylor Swift's wedding engagement.

During those three days I also connected to deeper parts of myself that I had never connected to in my life.

I viscerally felt, deep in my flesh and bones, levels of confidence and masculinity I had never felt before.

It was a coming of age experience. (A lost art in today's world).

There is magic in the subtleties, I learned.

All I have to do is learn to notice it. To learn to slow down and be present to notice the magic in the world around me, and the world within me.

They say hindsight is 20/20, so now I see that no wonder I create abstract art. I LOVE the subtle magical powers of simpler, slower things like meditation, long walks, and journaling.

To me, abstract art can only be understood and enjoyed if I slow down enough to notice the magic in the works.

I can quickly look at a landscape painting and I know what I just saw.

An abstract painting? Now I need to chill the f*ck out and pay attention.

(So thank you, abstract art, for helping me to chill the f*ck out.)

And thank you, sacred Utah cows for helping me to learn to notice the magic in the world around me.

Thank you to the wind, sun, and moon for helping me to learn how to slow down to the speed of life itself.

From this slower speed, I often find myself staring at pieces like Continuum 1, (which I am keeping in my living room until someone collects it... perks of being the artist) noticing new messages in a seemingly simple composition.

This is a small part of my hope for people who look at my art. That it can help bring them back to a state of presence and connection with themself. To open their mind and heart, even if a tiny bit more, to a state of wonder.

(Or in the case of a recent studio visitor I had, to help them connect to deeper emotions and shed some tears... but this is a story for another time.)

But I digress. They were cows, crisis averted. On the morning of the third day I made it out alive.

And since that vision quest, I've made a lot of art, and some of that art is available for collection in my Catalogue of Works for people who, whether they know it or not, appreciate the magic of subtleties too.

Julian

PS: Below is the aforementioned Continuum 1 in my living room. Note the beautiful long low bookshelf, eh? Built that myself and proud of it ;)

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