I experienced a Steven King moment this morning. In the half light of the morning with a winter crisp fog in the air, I drug the trash container to the road. Its wheel crunching in the hard packed snow. The reluctant wheels turned slowly as snow built up between them and the container. The eerie echo of the squeaky wheel could be heard down the empty street. There was no sound,no people,no movement and what ,no one else had their trash out!
It is Thursday? What day is it ? Have I lost all recollection of time, painting away in my studio grotto?Monday was a Holiday. Does trash not get pick up on Federal Holidays are they now one day behind? Are Trash Men like Bankers? So many unanswered question.
I am just an artist, I paint. Days run into each other my Holidays are the days of breakthroughs, when goals are accomplished, and best of all when someone enjoys my work.
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