Why I Paint While Walking
Why I Paint While Walking: On Attention, Silence, and the Camino Walking begins as movement. A direction. A simple intention to go from one place to another. At the beginning, I walked to arrive. To complete a distance, to reach a destination, to follow a map that seemed to promise something ahead. But after days—sometimes even after a single long afternoon—that intention begins to dissolve. The destination loses its urgency. The body finds its own rhythm. Steps repeat without effort. Breathing settles into the landscape. And in that rhythm, something quieter begins to emerge. Miracles are there on the road. Attention. Camino road and landscape The Shift From Seeing to Noticing At first, I saw the world as we usually do—quickly, functionally. A field. A road. A village. Something to pass through, something to categorize. But walking undoes this habit. When you walk for hours each day, repetition begins to slow perception. The same road becomes different. Li...