R. K. Dickson awoke in his truck before sunrise. He brushed his teeth, took a moment to appreciate that there was no line for the Porta-Potty, and then he hopped back into the truck and pulled out of the campground under the cover of darkness. From waking to exiting: about five minutes.
He had originally planned to camp closer to the site, but the official campground had been closed for the season. Having already traveled nearly 10,000 miles, this extra distance barely registered as an obstacle. It wasn’t even the biggest problem he would face that day. He knew where…
Four years ago, Jennifer Rhone was newly divorced. She had quit painting. She had quit singing. She had basically quit everything. In her own words, “it was a process to learn to live again.”
It’s been a long road back.
It was only two years ago that she took up painting again, and like a musician regaining her calluses, she expresses some (unwarranted) self-consciousness about how her “chops are still really off.” It was only within the last year that she started working on the seven pieces that make up her latest exhibit.
Which brings us to the present.
Being a private residence, the exact location of the house-gallery was only revealed to people who RSVP’d on Facebook. It’s not far from where I live, and the April weather is nice, so I decide to bike through the rows of houses. The gallery is pretty much equidistant from Main Street, the Norland shopping area and Wayne Avenue. This is residential. The houses have mowable yards and the sidewalks are shaded by full-sized trees.
As I pedal up to the house, I am permitted to park my bike on the porch, being sure to keep it out of the way…
the world is formed and sustained by combinations of letters.