Sometimes life chaotic, hard to read, wildly colored. Just the sort of situation that begs a person to step out from under the wheel. At least that’s what I was thinking while looking at this painting in the cafe I stopped for tea this afternoon. The past week was on that canvas.
With a half-day vacation and no where to be and nothing pressing needing done I just wandered a bit. It’s easy for me to know when I’m not enslaved to a schedule — the speedometer seldom passes 25mph. Often slower.
Puffy clouds and a blue sky drifted over Mt. Nittany as I meandered along. A fine day for a good ride.
Cafe Lemont was quiet with the other patrons lost in whatever they were doing. This young woman wouldn’t give me the time of day so I opened my journal and began outlining a few writing projects, explored a couple thoughts and sketched and image I had been thinking about. My cup of tea grew cold before I finished, a signal it was time to ride on.
I’ve been down this road dozens if not hundreds of times and still I’ve not seen it all. The shadows along the double yellow line — what’s making those patterns? Something to explore next time I ride through. If I remember.
Last stop before heading home — Duffy’s Tavern in Boalsburg, Pennsylvania. Parked my dirty Vespa next to a shiny Harley Davidson motorcycle while I sat on the patio, again with my journal but this time with a cheeseburger. The first one since my heart attack.
I know how important riding is to calming a day. I had forgotten the seductive power of writing in a journal. Somehow I’ve gotten out of the habit. At times I think writing in this blog has been a replacement but journal writing is an entirely different animal. One I am going to engage again.
Didn’t go far or overcome any challenges save those between my ears.
Maybe it was a good ride.
I actually like the painting, it could be taken a number of ways, 1) frenetic energy of someone trying to change their path with all the quick sharp brush strokes 2) a vibrant desperation , but not of depression 3) creative explosion, who knows are is subjective.
Looks like it was a good ride. Nice pic of the vespa & HD and surprise either didn’t burst into flames. Good to know the brands could place nice.
Fine observations. I wasn’t open to seeing those options while I was sitting in the cafe. Now that I look again I see what you’re saying.
I think I enjoyed the Vespa Harley picture because a harbor a secret desire for a Sportster…
I’m not sure if you were just joking about “the patterns” or not. They are called snowshoes or slack loops. They are used in fiber optic cables to wind a slack loop or two in case of damage. The excess can be pulled from either or both directions to facilitate repairs. Our most common problem is that squirrels like to chew on the cable sheath and ants like the jelly inside that keeps the water out. I always look forward to your next blog posting, Steve. We are kindred spirits.
I wasn’t joking about the pattern and I appreciate the insight you’ve provided. Makes sense to have some leeway built in because of all the trees and branches that fall on the lines around here. Squirrels… they chew up our Christmas lights, chewed up the wiring harness on our Honda Fit, chew up bird feeders. They are persistent little cusses…
Thanks for the kind words about my posts. As long as I can ride I’ll keep writing and making pictures.
I use Facebook to put down any thoughts I have that I think might interest people that are non-scooter related otherwise I just contribute the scooter related to the blog. Generally my mind just swirls with banal thoughts that flash through in a minute. Cups of tea don’t get cold. A little ADD perhaps.
I’ve not yet warmed much to Facebook. Probably because I recognize how much time could be consumed if I start trying to “figure it all out”.
Getting ready to depart for a Saturday morning cup of tea. At the rate I’m going though it will be Sunday before I put my hands on the cup…
I tried journaling with the birth of my first son, life soon intervened and that effort was lost….
As I motor along in my ninth year of blogging, it has in my case, become my journal.
This posting reminds me of the short but nice visit we had…..
Journaling is a tough thing to do yet so rewarding afterwards. I suppose it’s like most good things in life — difficult. Blogging is remarkably easier for me but I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because there’s someone reading…
Next time we get together maybe I’ll have a URAL….*grin*
such a tease….