Driving is not my strong suit.

And I have many theories about why this is so.  But let’s start with the obvious one.

It’s boring.

And when it’s not — well, it’s mesmerizing.

And neither, in my case, make for the level of concentration necessary to drive efficiently and effectively — by most people’s standards, that is.

Yesterday I was driving mesmerized.  Through the lake country roads from Mille Lacs back to Minneapolis. 

It was green.  Oh so gre-eeeen —

It was blue.  Oh so blu-ooooh.

And then —

It was pink.

A pink shape on the horizon just after I read the sign:

Quamba pop. 98

And just after I thought:

Wow, less people than on two floors of the office building I drive to every weekday.  And they have a sign.  Hmmmm.  Wonder who runs this town?

And then —

Out of the blue (and green) — a reply.

The pink shape. 

A woman in a frock — definitely a farm dress.  And stockings.  Sensible shoes.  Patiently perched on the side of the road.  Waiting to cross to the neighboring farm.

A Sunday morning summit?

I’m so there.

My art flows from the patterns & paths of my lived experience which ⏤ like yours ⏤ are at once deeply personal and entirely universal.

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