Just rolled down Stevens Pass. Took it slow, pushed towing option button. People passing me were throwing off the angst vibe. I said out loud to the universe: Hey I paid my taxes all my life, I have a right to go the speed I feel safe at. I was averaging 55 but many people go 65 or faster. Highway 2 is one lane each way. I’ll pull off to side when road allows. Hey people, relax. Life shoots by and you aren’t gonna see/hear/taste/feel much if its zoom zoom zoom (Hi Bill).
Camping at Lake Wenatchee was great. Connecting with some of remaining family was gratifying. Getting to know cousin Jim again and have him in my life is important to me. He seems very happy now with Kristin. I plan on dropping in on his brother, cousin Mark in Newport Oregon at some point. Jim and I talked about our Uncle Friels, Warner, John, and Jim. Uncle Warner was an eccentric man who owned the town of Douglas, Washington. My mom use to tell me about the general store he ran there, where she and her sister (Aunt Phyllis)worked, the golf course, and the house in back of store. I was jealous of my cousins, brother, and sisters, all who got to go ride on golf carts and have fun hanging out at the store. My mom says the Washington State Cougar basketball court is named after one of our Uncle Friels.
Jim and I tried to pool our childhood memories together. Cheyenne Wyoming and roller skating on the bumpy sidewalks. Catching prairie dogs. I knew Uncle Jack and Aunt Phyllis well. Jim told me circumstances around their deaths. I was too dysfunctional to respond at the time of their deaths. I was moved to tears.
Decided to stay for the night at a campground near Skykomish called Beckler River.
Pulled into the grounds office and there was manager swooshing in on a golf cart.
Perfect timing. He showed me site #3 and I took it. It’s lush green, dripping with moss and dappled light. Such privacy! I could pee back here without anyone seeing. Of course I would never do such a thing.
Steve, the manager was nice enough to back RV in for me since my two attempts failed. I felt a bit of lameness.
I’m trying not to be embarrassed anymore. I feel like a damsel in distress parking this rig. People are so nice about it. They had to learn once too and are generous about helping. Most campers I’ve met are warm and friendly.
Hooked up generator to charge my phone. Theres no hookups here, water, electric, or sewer. Price is right, only $16 a day. Generator appears to be working. Its a Honda generator. Quiet as far as Gens go. If anyone complains I’ll shut it off. (post script: no one complained. 2 neighbors had gens)
It has to run outside for potential of carbon monoxide poisoning. If I do the suicide, this is a pleasant way. Also hooked RV up to generator. I hope this laptop is being powered by generator and not RV battery. Would like to save juice if needed for something urgent.
So much fear to overcome. I’m doing that as I learn each new piece of this RV life puzzle. Dogs are eager to explore this new river terrain.
Phone must charge another 15 minutes. What if I leave it out and tak’em for a walk?
I keep remembering back to a conversation with Jonesy. I stated how I wanted to make some new art. Not plein air painting, or realism, or anything derived from photos. I want to respect that the experience of being in nature cannot be copied with a paint brush.
Ones only hope as an artist wishing to create something new is to draw from ones mind and inner imagination. This is the only way to add something more to nature that isn’t already here. The visuals of life are so amazing, as an artist you can’t top the real thing. Extending reality instead of copying it is a more interesting challenge and would ultimately be more rewarding to the artist in my opinion. We spend our whole lives living inside our heads. Thoughts spinning round which nobody hears. Dreams that come and go like any carnival ride. Invented places. Time travel. The world of the subconscious. Why not use that as subject matter? If you like art that copies nature that’s fine with me. I have made a lot of that and will probably make more when my bank account dips close to empty. This recent realization, painting from the inside out rings true to me. A good place to begin is the sketchbook.
Camping at Lake Wenatchee was great. Connecting with some of remaining family was gratifying. Getting to know cousin Jim again and have him in my life is important to me. He seems very happy now with Kristin. I plan on dropping in on his brother, cousin Mark in Newport Oregon at some point. Jim and I talked about our Uncle Friels, Warner, John, and Jim. Uncle Warner was an eccentric man who owned the town of Douglas, Washington. My mom use to tell me about the general store he ran there, where she and her sister (Aunt Phyllis)worked, the golf course, and the house in back of store. I was jealous of my cousins, brother, and sisters, all who got to go ride on golf carts and have fun hanging out at the store. My mom says the Washington State Cougar basketball court is named after one of our Uncle Friels.
Jim and I tried to pool our childhood memories together. Cheyenne Wyoming and roller skating on the bumpy sidewalks. Catching prairie dogs. I knew Uncle Jack and Aunt Phyllis well. Jim told me circumstances around their deaths. I was too dysfunctional to respond at the time of their deaths. I was moved to tears.
Decided to stay for the night at a campground near Skykomish called Beckler River.
Pulled into the grounds office and there was manager swooshing in on a golf cart.
Perfect timing. He showed me site #3 and I took it. It’s lush green, dripping with moss and dappled light. Such privacy! I could pee back here without anyone seeing. Of course I would never do such a thing.
Steve, the manager was nice enough to back RV in for me since my two attempts failed. I felt a bit of lameness.
I’m trying not to be embarrassed anymore. I feel like a damsel in distress parking this rig. People are so nice about it. They had to learn once too and are generous about helping. Most campers I’ve met are warm and friendly.
Hooked up generator to charge my phone. Theres no hookups here, water, electric, or sewer. Price is right, only $16 a day. Generator appears to be working. Its a Honda generator. Quiet as far as Gens go. If anyone complains I’ll shut it off. (post script: no one complained. 2 neighbors had gens)
It has to run outside for potential of carbon monoxide poisoning. If I do the suicide, this is a pleasant way. Also hooked RV up to generator. I hope this laptop is being powered by generator and not RV battery. Would like to save juice if needed for something urgent.
So much fear to overcome. I’m doing that as I learn each new piece of this RV life puzzle. Dogs are eager to explore this new river terrain.
Phone must charge another 15 minutes. What if I leave it out and tak’em for a walk?
I keep remembering back to a conversation with Jonesy. I stated how I wanted to make some new art. Not plein air painting, or realism, or anything derived from photos. I want to respect that the experience of being in nature cannot be copied with a paint brush.
Ones only hope as an artist wishing to create something new is to draw from ones mind and inner imagination. This is the only way to add something more to nature that isn’t already here. The visuals of life are so amazing, as an artist you can’t top the real thing. Extending reality instead of copying it is a more interesting challenge and would ultimately be more rewarding to the artist in my opinion. We spend our whole lives living inside our heads. Thoughts spinning round which nobody hears. Dreams that come and go like any carnival ride. Invented places. Time travel. The world of the subconscious. Why not use that as subject matter? If you like art that copies nature that’s fine with me. I have made a lot of that and will probably make more when my bank account dips close to empty. This recent realization, painting from the inside out rings true to me. A good place to begin is the sketchbook.
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