There's some good news on the insect apocalypse front. I know, you probably didn't expect to read that sentence today.

If you've been following along, you know that over the past couple of decades the world has lost around ten percent of its insect population each decade. Multiple studies, multiple locations, all pointing the same direction. It matters because insects pollinate plants, and the entire food web starts with plants. Losing insects means losing everything that depends on them, which is, ultimately, everything.

This piece has a long and winding story.

It started, I'm not sure how many years ago now, with preparing to paint live on a stage. I had free reign as far as subject matter went, though I was creating at a conference focused on the intersection of art and faith.

Pipevine swallowtails were on my mind.

Some time ago I discovered an idea that changed how I think about making art, and eventually, how I think about everything else too.

Julia Cameron describes it in her well-known book The Artist's Way: physically, we have to breathe in before we can breathe out. She applies this specifically to creative inspiration, and the word itself backs her up. "Inspire" comes from the Latin inspirare - to breathe into, to blow into.

Sometimes when I'm out walking the creek trails, I find myself stopping and just staring, taking in whatever is in front of me without quite knowing why.

A few days ago it was a beautiful live oak that the trail edges under. The branches curve around the path in a way that draws you in, most of them draping all the way to the ground, with one low branch that makes a perfectly good bench. I've walked under this tree more times than I can count and stopped more than a few.

Have you ever had one of those days where everything seems to break at once, and you start wondering if there's something in the cosmic air?

I had a couple of those recently.

It started when I was driving to my first class of the semester, in hundred-and-some degree heat, and my car's air conditioner broke. I arrived a little sweaty but still half an hour early, with plenty of time to get ready, or so I thought.