Listen up kiddies, I've got two new lessons for you.
First up: Karma is a bitch.
Less than twenty four hours after using this very forum to elucidate about some recent close-calls with unobservant drivers near our studio and home, I wound up in an accident on a snowy road at the Grand Canyon that has shaken not only my confidence in the four-wheel drive capability of my previously mentioned truck, but left me questioning what the universe is trying to tell me from time to time.
Which brings me to lesson two: The universe has a perverse sense of humor.
As I was driving up to said canyon grandness, I was bemoaning the fact that there wasn't any snow on the ground. This is because my wife and I, both being artists have been waiting two months for weather -- any kind of weather -- to arrive here in Northern Arizona. You see (as other artists will attest), bad weather makes for great paintings and photographs.
I was worried that once again, the National Weather Service had promised us snow, and all that I was seeing was rain. Granted, rain is better than nothing, but snow is better.
About ten miles south of the canyon, the snow hit. And it was clear that all of my concerns were unfounded. At this point, just for kicks, the universe had someone pull out in front of me at a snails pace as if to remind me of the previous evening's rant. Not to be deterred from my winter wonderland mindset and with visions of Moran Point covered in snow and hoar-frost, I slowed even further, shifted into four-wheel drive, and settled back to enjoy a slightly longer drive to the spot where Kim and I were meeting up.
So here I was, in one of the world's wonders draped in new snowfall, with my lovely wife and happy puppy, nestled safely and warmly in a large four-wheel drive vehicle. None of which matters when a snow-covered ice patch decides to send you into opposing lanes.
Sometimes it's not about art. Sometimes it's nice just to have a forum in which to vent. Like this time...
Unrelated to painting, over the last week or so, I've been unfortunate enough to have several drivers pull out in front of my car on a highway between Sedona and Jerome (AZ). And all of them have been at the same intersection/side-road. Now granted, we're not talking about I-405 in LA here; most of the time, there's barely another car around for more than a mile. But...it is a highway. Those of us traversing it lawfully are usually doing so at between 65 and 70 mph....others are often proceeding at a somewhat more brisk clip.
Anyway, being a four-lane highway, when a mid-tone sedan with one or more octogenarians -- did I mention that the majority have been a bit on the elderly side? (I don't want to generalize, but...) -- suddenly pulls onto the the highway at 7 mph with less than 1000 yards warning, and in my lane; well, it's more than a little distressing. Now understand, by necessity, I drive a very large pickup...it checks in at around 12,000lbs.
I just can't comprehend what these yutzes are thinking when they do this....did mom and dad never tell them to look both ways back when they were little ones? Anyhoo...to move this anecdote along...because I was forced to reduce my speed by nearly 90 percent as I moved into the VACANT adjacent lane, I got a good look at the offending driver. Oblivious, unaware, vacantly staring straight ahead, hands dutifully at ten and two on the steering wheel, and apparently applying equal pressure to brake and accelerator -- brake lights illuminated, but neither slowing nor accelerating.
Three hours later, he walked into my studio...same expression. Didn't look at the paintings, photography, or even the excessively cute puppy bouncing up and down in front of them. Walked out without uttering even a grunt.
I've always known that most people go through life asleep, I just wasn't aware that the dead had now started to arise and were driving imported sedans.
Sometimes it's just about the painting...My mind was strangely quiet this weekend. Perhaps being in awe of the slew of great painters I've been studying.So many brilliant painters, so much paint to placePear Martini: 8x10 oil on canvas panel