Waiting for the Storm

I've used this title in a number of paintings over the years. It describes a situation that isn't always about weather. When I was a kid it was about waiting for my father to come home and knowing he would find something to yell about. Sometimes it is the knowledge that something is wrong in a relationship though everyone is pretending otherwise. When I was young I would tell myself that I was being a pessmist and that I shouldn't assume things. When my intuition would prove to be correct I was always very, very hard on myself for not listening.

As I've, uh, matured... experience is my most reliable friend when I anticipate a storm on the horizon. Still, it is frustrating to see something coming and not be able to prevent it - especially when the thunder, lightening or flood of tears caused by a misunderstanding between two friends (or more!). The storm is even more frightful when one's livelihood is on the line. Its a mess. Nothing compared to the scene in New Orleans or the Gulf region, but enough to make me want to go away. I don't think there is anything to fix. Weather patterns are what they are and the gulf stream is getter warmer.

Yesterday my beloved and I drove two hours to the Beach. It was a perfect rendevous. He read to me from a laptop; a novel he is working on: in the car on the way home. It was divine.

Still, though. There is that storm. Better fasten the shutters.