Into the Storms

On the way out TO the Cape I had done the first half of the year's tax entries in my log book. I felt rather smug being that I am a woman who had filed double extensions for years. The trip home left me wondering...dare I pull out the paints? I had not picked up my watercolors in quite a while and I find riding in the car on long trips conducive to painting as I can pass the time while Larry drives, practicing my sketching, painting, and perception skills. Often I paint what I see on the journey, which necessitates a keen interpretation and a fast brush. I carry a watercolor paint box, a package of Strathmore watercolor postcards, a small box of brushes, and a bottle of water, all of which fit into a gallon size baggy, easily tossed into the back seat of the car, or in my large Ameribag.

The fear of making art that might not be good has left everything it it's bag far too many times as of late. Is it fear of making a mistake, ruining paper, or making art that no one would like that makes is so? This fear quickly dissipated as I became familiar again with my loved paintbox. I told myself "I am not painting for anyone, just for myself".

After a stop at the Cape outlets, we headed onto 495 and headed right into the worst storms I have ever been in while on the road. Storm after storm with intense lightning, blinding rain and wind made driving almost impossible. Cars pulled off the side of the road, and traffic slowed to a crawl. Trucks were sending rivers into our windshield and much of the time we could not see the road, nevermind the exit signs. We would drive for 20 minutes in an intense storm, then it would get a bit brighter, we would breathe a sigh of relief before we got pounded again.

495 WENT ON FOREVER. When I could see the road signs they seemed unfamiliar. Geez, isn't the Mass Turnpike exit coming up? I started getting suspicious and by the time I could say...let's get out the road map, we were in New Hampshire. We had missed the exit for the turnpike an hour back.

We pulled into this small gas station in a tiny town with huge fancy houses, and inquired about the quickest way back to the Pike. "Oh, about 45 minutes or so and you take 290 through Worchester, and then you can get the pike." We had now added 2 hours onto a 4.5 hour trip.

At any rate, we were safe, and if need be we could stay overnight somewhere, or just drive home, which is what we did. We got a splendid view of Worchester in between storms, and once we crossed over into New York, the skies cleared and the ride home was splendid. (thank God we get something for our taxes..LOL) All was well when we got home and I thanked the great thunder god for our safe trip home. *a glimpse of him below*. Oh and I got my watercolors lust back, thanks to the storms.