Incredible, genie! I appreciate your putting the link in so we can see. I understand what you wrote there about the goal beginning to feel like an "obligation" -- boy, I get to feeling like that (sometimes about things like getting out of bed). I'm working hard to see things as a Privilege instead of Obligation -- but it is constant and challenging work to do so.
I'm trying to download a picture of my quilt landscape that I referenced; I've taken countless pictures, and they just aren't panning out. I must have the setting wrong, because it's still turning out flowers just great. Nonetheless...

I started doing this when we were in the last place "down the hill" -- a lovely home with space for my crafting and writing (in a reasonably organized fashion, even) because I once had a calendar where all the homey pictures were actually applique scenes. Now, those were fantastic, and this is a first effort. And, it isn't finished: one of the reasons, I keep thinking perhaps there should be a "bridge" from the cows that look like my Dutch bunny Holly (ha!) across the biggest expanse of lake. Also, like I said, because it's an awkward shape and I don't quite know what to do with it. I've had it thumb-tacked to the wall above the piano almost since we moved out here.
Here's a story you might enjoy.
I "saw" the little mountains inside my head, and cut them first. I bought the "sky" at JoAnn's, the slightest remnant package, fascinated at the clouds. (I love that I added a little reflection of the sky within the lake.) Then I went nuts because I thought of the name, "Farm at Five-Mile Lake" -- so added the cows, pigs, orchard, growing fields... the tan squares are supposed to represent a wall. I used my new sewing machine, a Brother embroidery machine simply to applique (that (a) I lost the hoop for in the move, and (b) the electronics eventually screwed up in the heat here, (c) but not before I spent a fortune to buy embroidery machine thread). And it ain't great applique: I didn't "finish" the stitches well... if I ran out of thread, I just started there, backed up two or twelve times, and kept going.
Then I laid it on a table in our house and left it there. I wasn't sure it was finished; I didn't know how to finish it; but I loved seeing it.
When we came to look at this desert property, we felt it was well worth what the man wanted, this old mobile home and its 2-1/2 acres: We were entranced by the open space. It wasn't until we were well moved in and I came upon this piece in a box that it struck me: I'd made this sky! I made these little mountains! I'd put in this open dirt! The lake, though, confused me -- and then folks started talking about Horton Lake and Twin Lakes, etc... Horton, by the way, is a competition-level water-ski school and performance arena. And we noticed how many folks around here have a lake or pond or hole-in-the-ground-filled-with-water... and it was eerie (like, lake eerie) how much it seemed I'd latched into our home I'd never seen. No livestock here, nor big trees -- alfalfa, pomegranates, and pistachios grow well here, although we have just one baby pomegranate tree. But every time I look at this, it reminds me that this is, for today, exactly where I belong.