30 Paintings in 30 Days, Day 8
"Waiting for Irma" - mixed media on canvas paper, 16" x 20". Inquiries.
BEDEMIR: What also floats in water?
VILLAGER #1: Bread!
VILLAGER #2: Apples!
VILLAGER #3: Very small rocks!
VILLAGER #1: Cider!
VILLAGER #2: Great gravy!
VILLAGER #1: Cherries!
VILLAGER #2: Mud!
VILLAGER #3: Churches -- churches!
VILLAGER #2: Lead -- lead!
ARTHUR: A duck.
- from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Scene 5
While Bedemir and Arthur are contemplating what floats in water (churches? gravy? very small rocks?), we are considering what flies through the air. Coconuts, for sure (oh my - the universe just conspired to truly link this script with my actual life experience, didn't it?) and our neighbor's trees are loaded with them. Potted plants? Statuary? Paving stones? Extra roof tiles? Hoses? Plants? Trees? It's hard to decide how much of the outside to bring inside in order to avoid it flying through your roof. And you can't throw things out at this point, because all trash service has been suspended. I am eyeing the kayak leaning on a house across the pond from us and wondering if it will fly through the air as smoothly as it glides across the water.
We aren't the only ones getting ready, of course. An evening walk through the neighborhood revealed house after house boarded and shuttered. People busy clearing out their garages to make room for cars and generators. Here in Florida, 90% of folks use their garage as junk storage, so their cars are generally outside. A big, fast purge is necessary now. Fortunately, our cars are always parked inside. :) Lines at the few gas stations with any fuel left are over two hours long, with police on hand to be sure no one takes more gas than they actually need. The grocery stores are closing this evening until further notice. The entirety of south Florida is shuttering and closing down.
Here in our house, we have hurricane-impact windows, doors and solar panels. That's the good news. The bad news is that, instead of feeling shut up inside a tin can like those with metal shutters or plywood, we can see everything as it happens. I'm not sure if I'll enjoy that. I imagine the scene from the Wizard of Oz where Dorothy sees cows flying by. We will be able to watch the water rising and the coconuts flying. Of course, we will be in a safe room for the rough parts, no windows to the world, bicycle helmets on our heads and cushions all around us. But for the rest of it, we will have our eyes on the world outside.
Meanwhile, in the studio, art continues to be made with the hope that it survives whatever is coming. This piece was inspired by aboriginal art with oddly-shaped figures and markings, a sort of talisman against the storm, a watcher and protector. I am pretty sure this canvas paper would float, which Arthur would approve of.
9/8/2017 11:24:37 am
Great gravy, Irma!
9/8/2017 12:20:09 pm
Dotty! I do indeed wish Irma would play nice! Maybe your perfect poem will do the trick. :) I will be painting as long as it is safe to be in my studio....there is one window and a skylight in there. But I will sketch in our safe room as long as I don't need both hands to hang on!!!
9/9/2017 12:51:13 am
Oh how very brave you are! Blogging, painting and sharing! I think I would be sleeping under the bed! Be safe!!
9/9/2017 08:44:52 am
Carol, there is comfort in staying busy. It is my go-to method of self-soothing! There will be time enough for hiding under the bed in the next two days....ACK!
9/9/2017 09:11:47 am
She looks VERY brave and powerful!!
9/9/2017 09:48:14 am
oooooh thank you, mama hen! xoxoxoxo
Leave a Reply.