Road trip

My cousin's 60th birthday is this weekend. Huge gathering near Palm Springs -- she told me 24 cousins, and 24 therapists, which is hilarious, given our family insanities. But this is a special birthday, because she was treated for colon cancer about a year ago. That cancer was found by accident -- she'd gone to the doctor for another, routine exam -- was refered to another doctor, found a blockage, and turned out to be a stage 3 colon cancer; one lymphnode away from stage 4. It was scary.

Along the way, I will deploy some of my anti-war soldiers -- 29 Palms, or Joshua Tree -- tagged with "Bring us home from Iraq" -- just put them out there for people to see.

I'm in slow motion this morning. Can't quite get a move on. Work was stressful this week, and I'm at a funny place. Many of my friends are retiring. Through blogging I am remembering that my real path has always been fine art, and I'm in the middle of a resentment: Why do I have to work at an office job when I have a Masters of Fine Art? It sounds like such a whinge as I write it, but my innards are having a temper tantrum. And I like my job, go figure. It allows me to travel the world at a level I'd not be able to afford otherwise.

Still, I need to find time and space to paint. To write. I'm taking an Improv class which is great fun, but it is a means to another end. Not sure what that means yet, I just know that I am on a path and I don't know where it is leading me.

So on a longish drive today, I will have some good time to stop and take photographs, and to deploy plastic soldiers, and think. Same thing on Sunday, a meander home.