Climbing The Gravel Mountain

Well, the weekend got totally away from me. I had big plans to write and it just didn’t happen. But I did manage to draw, which is no easy feet during the academic semester. I can cartoon, but actually sitting down to work slowly on a more developed graphite piece is a challenge. I was very proud I got myself to my sketchbook.

I’ve been thinking about the image and metaphor of climbing a gravel mountain repeatedly of late, in multiple contexts. It first emerged in my journal in regards to childhood - that feeling as a kid that you’re constantly grappling to understand what’s happening around you, never quite gaining foothold. But it also appears when I think about the formations of identity as an adult - the slippery experience of Self - and, more broadly, as nations and the planet grapple with existential threats.