Its become harder to write. I’ve been avoiding it for the last week. Starting in Arcata, I began to have the feeling of settling, not a voyeuristic traveler anymore, but a settler. The first few weeks of travel I felt like a rain stick flipped over, a cacophony of sounds/ideas/impressions. Now, I’ve quieted down inside. I don’t particularly want to keep moving and taking notes. I want to see what new sediment has emerged. I want to reconcile my desire to settle with the longstanding habits of my life in Alaska—especially at Bunnell. From this vantage point, I see how, in my absence, Adele’s extraordinary capacity for leadership has flourished. I see how, in my absence the Board has risen to the challenge of supporting staff by hosting events more frequently, and preparing for a stragetic planning retreat. Like the parent of a twenty-year old, I ask myself what is the best thing I do to facilitate maturity for the organization? Holding the reins tightly is certainly not the answer. If it has been healthy to step away, I ask myself, how will it serve Bunnell for me to return?

I am very grateful and encouraged by long chats with Adele. Today we spoke for an hour, reviewing recent activities and finally, asking each other to imagine a best-case scenario for Bunnell’s management. Ideally, how would we each delegate the work that needs to get done? There’s artistic and executive direction, gallery management, book keeping and event-promotion protocol, policy review and development planning. Bunnell has grown so much by embracing the strengths of the people who lead it. My rain stick is shaken again and my effervescence arises.

I also imagine new opportunities for myself outside of Alaska. On Sunday, we drove an hour and half north of San Francisco, thru Petaluma, Sebastapol and Occidental to Monte Rio on the Russian River. In this area, Papa spent a lot of time – as a child, he swan in the Russian River with cousins. As an adult he lived in Petaluma amongst chicken farms and walnut trees. I was amazed at the beauty of landscape. Towering redwoods at the river, buttressed by rolling hills dotted with oak, cows, vineyards. Lots of farms, art, yoga, flea markets, thrift shops, bike paths…the variety of environmental and cultural opportunities astounded me, but very much less of Marin wealth and more of Humboldt humility. I could live here, not far from the city, tucked among trees.