OK, so a month since I have posted. Sometimes you just live and don’t have any commentary along the way.
I met my mom at my sister’s in Atlanta a few weeks ago, about the time those guys were attempting to mix explosives in airplane lavatories. I did make it home and left two days later for West Virginia (please hold the regional jokes.) It was the first real vacation Craig and I have had since our honeymoon seven years ago. Our very generous friends offered their mountain home as accommodations.
West Virginia is an odd mix of Appalachian and hippie cultures. It is beautiful up there with plenty of miles of hiking for enthusiasts, like us. We did an eight mile hike one day. Why you say? Well, after the third hour I was asking that myself. Being deep in the wilderness breathing the air, suddenly noticing the lack of engine noise is a wonderful experience, sore feet and all. We even had the rare opportunity to see a black bear. Sort of a "Wow!" moment that turns to an "Oh, S—!" moment pretty quickly as one realizes one is in the presence of a BEAR. We immediately began looking for stuff to throw and trees to climb just in case.
We paid many visits to The Purple Fiddle , the local cafe famous for its showcase of bluegrass bands. I have a new appreciation for the genre after seeing Greensky Bluegrass there one Friday night (Yes, I know. Not very punk rock.) Bluegrass has to be observed, not just heard. Then you get it.
So, back home and headed up to Philadelphia on Friday for the opening. I have done no artwork in weeks save one portrait, so struggling a bit with finding meaning in walking dogs alone. "Jeff" has been beckoning, just staring at me from the easel…….I am still stuck. I still feel it a painting worth finishing.