Theres a great advantage to being 2 hours away from the nearest big city. The world is very different here. None of the needs and expectations of the metropolis. Cars tend to be older, fashions undefined. High heels, have been unworn and in the closet for almost 10 years, why I keep them I do not know. Around here with all these dirt roads and cobbled streets no one is insured or sensible to where heels. It is always an indicator of ' a newcommer', and often when the fashion conscious do come clip clopping through town they are regarded with curiosity and alienation.
For the painter it is all about light and shadow. He is barely aware of the hustle and bustle of the little things. Of more interest is the response of the desert. Here we are in the midst of monsoons, for us its all about the rain, and the break in the relentless heat. For the painter, now intimately with the cycles and subtleties of this arrid zone, he waits for the red dirt to be speckled with swift changes. No big fiesta, the response of the wild flowers is often overlooked. No towering blooms, but a simple subtle carpet, that breaks up the dominance of the red dirt earth.
On the home front, at the miners shack, windows are open, doors ajar, and the summer season of entertaining and being a good hostess, have been extreme. Dear little Maggie, our 7yr old summer lodger has left and is back to Vancover. But the bugs still linger, and I am sick, literally of being the focus of their needs. But they are all a factor of living on the edge. All part of the fractions of summer. Wildflowers bud and blooms, and so too the creepy crawlies.
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