painting - Laurence of Hospicia, artist unknown
Already, the long hot summery days call for diversion and escape to faraway places. The breeze lulls, afternoon storms rumble through, the laundry flaps on the clothesline.
I run to gather in the freshly dried clothes before the next stormcloud bursts. The dog hunkers in the corner, then paces and pants and worries over the noise and the drama of these daily summer occurrences. He seeks comfort in the closeness of his companion.
Hours of study and research go by. Mornings spent planting, weeding and watering before the heat becomes oppressive.
There are endless projects and tasks to attend to, but there is an inner yen to flee. A need for other scenery. These walls are dark, the air is stale.
For a while I roamed markets of castoff treasures and collected odd pieces to trade off or use in other creations. Now I pile full boxes of excess, hauling away for others to plunder through.
I go for a matinee. A much anticipated outing with my good friend. City princesses trek off to exotic places in their overwhelmingly garish fashions. They whine and complain of their less than perfect perfect lives. The outcome of this escape was far less cathartic than I had hoped, the movie part, that is. Delirious Divas riding camels across dunes and picnicking under tents while served by handsome butlers.
I once rode on an elephant with a friend. We were at a State Fair and I dare say had more fun on that excursion than those silly divas in their harem couture.
What we need here is a windfall, a ship, a real job. Spare me from the hours of waiting for my number to be called in this game of economic roulette.
Calgon, take me away...
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