Insightfulness, intuition, call it what you want, but I believe all of us has at least one voice within our heads that talks to us. I have three. One told me last week that I should buy new tires for the Jeep. The front ones were looking worn and winter was coming. Not that I had plans to go driving in the snow, 4 wheel drive or not. What I have learned about myself and where I reside is, I am more likely to drive on wet roads as a result of rain rather than snow and I have never been truly comfortable with the way the jeep stopped when braking on a wet surface. While those large tires with white lettering look cool on the jeep, at my age cool is not the determining factor for me when I look for a car. Safety and usefulness ranks way, way up there, in relation to cute and cool.
The other two voices remained mute on the subject of tires.
On Saturday, I got up wanting to work in my studio. I've been going great guns and have three tops ready to quilt, but once I sat down in my chair at the sewing machine I realized that it was too glummy in my work space and my creative brain was not going to be happy nor want to work without a struggle. The day was over cast and the lighting wasn't bright enough for me. My SAD was kicking in and I knew if I was brain drained this early in the season I was really, really going to have problems working in my space without more light. Winter was looming and the next three months were setting up to be a bugger.
I looked up at the ceiling praying for a source of light that wasn't there. I was missing the wonderful lighting I had in my condo studio that I had wired for 3 fixtures that held 4- 4 foot Ott bulbs each. On any day and at amy time when the light were on it was like high noon on the best cloud free day.
One voice in my head said. "Even if you called an electrician today it will be days, maybe weeks before they will get to the job." I sighted. Waiting and wishing for what I didn't have wasn't the answer.
"Buy some more lamps. You only have too many lamps if you blow a fuse."
Weighting the issue I knew it was the winter blues or a blown fuse.
"Right, the other voice said, "But where can you get more lamps that will help the situation?"
"Big Lots." , the first voice answered quickly.
" That's right", responded voice two.
Big Lots was the answer to the immediate situation of poor lighting and a solution that would be easy to impliment. When I taught a class in Bowling Green, KY last month one of the participants had a table top lamp that was far superior in light out put than any Ott lamp I've seen.
But where is a Big Lots I wondered. Not in Columbia I found out when I looked in the telephone directory. My Big Lots' internet search found four stores within 150 miles of Columbia. There was one 147 miles away in Springfield, MO, which was where my daughter Lyn had gone that morning for a business meeting. The other was 79 miles away in Sedalia, MO. The remaining two, Kansas City and St. Louis, about 130 miles away, each.
Sedalia it was and off I went after calling to varify that they had the Ott type lamps, that I was interested in.
Sedalia is a small town, not unlike Columbia without the benefit of 2 colleges and a major University with all that entails. The trip to Sedalia was uneventful. I listened to the last disc of a book I had started the day before as I drove. On the way back. I blew a tire.
The front driver's side tire. With smoke and the smell of burning rubber, I safely steered myself to the side of the road and immediately a pick-up truck towing an trailer, pulled in behind me. I remembered passing it just before the blow-out.
I haven't changed a tire by myself since 1973 and that was on the front end of my VW bug while it sat in our driveway. I wasn't looking forward to changing this one by my self or waiting until a service truck could be disbatched. So you know how relieved I was to see two concerned faces walking toward me as I was getting out of the Jeep to survey the situation.
"I saw that your tire was really low when you came up behind us and started to pass me" the drive said. "I tried to signal you and catch up with you...."
"Thanks, but I know, I was flying." I said grinning in a sheephish, flirty way. The driver looked almost as old as me and was rather nice looking in a working man, not afraid to get his hands dirty kind of way. He was also doing justice to the pair of jeans he was wearing too.
"Yep and then I saw the smoke and knew it was too late." he went on. "Where is your jack."
With the kindness of two strangers, the shaking of hands all around, I was back on the road in 20 minutes. When I got back to Columbia, I immediately went to the tire store and made an appointment to replace all the tires on Monday morning.
Now for the irony and the blessing. When Lyn got home on Saturday evening, I told her about my adventure and my appointment on Monday for new tires. "Why, she said, didn't you call me to let me know what you were planning to do today. My meeting was held next door to a Big Lots in Springfield." " You know," she went on to say, "I had planned to take the Jeep and leave you the Jetta this morning until I woke up and heard how hard it was raining. I took the Jetta instead, it handles the rain better the the Jeep. Now I'm glad I did."
So was I. A Mother is a Mother no matter how old her children get and if the blow out was destiny waiting to happen, I'm glad it happened to me instead of her.
Josh assembled my lamps. The added light was just what I needed, I worked until mid-night on Saturday. Put in many hours in the studio on Sunday.
And now we are to Monday after the tires were installed and I was back in the studio stopping for dinner and then returning for a few hours before bedtime.
One or both of my inner voices talk to me when I am creating my art and last night they were talking non stop. Bantering back and forth without offering any real insight.
"No that doesn't look right." one said
"Are you sure you want to go in that direction?" said the other
" I know you have already selected the colors you want to use, but.... "
" I know you are working with squares, but maybe you should add some rectangles."
"Try adding some red voilet to that color scheme."
"Not that value."
"No, not that hue."
"Maybe you should just scrap this design"
"Better to just scrape the color scheme"
"But all the shapes are cut already"
"Since when has disording fabric that isn't workig a concern."
"SHUT-UP said a third voice to the first two with finality.
"Go knit." The voice told me and I listened.
I turned off all the lamps, the ceiling light, my sewing machine, retired to my room and picked up my knitting needles.
Art I have always said is about seeing. It is also about listening too.