April 27: Welcome to Wayport at McDonald's, Art Stroll

Welcome to Wayport WiFi at McDonald's again.  This system is so friggin' slow that I've already been kicked off twice, and I haven't even typed two sentences yet.  Every other word I key in, the screen of my laptop goes grey, and a little blue circle of doom appears.  The circle hovers mid-screen for about thirty seconds to a minute, and then one of two things happens.  One, the screen goes back to normal edit mode.  Two, the screen stays eternally grey, and I have to reset everything.

Here comes another grey-out.  Hopefully, I'll see you on the other side.

Back again.  I did set up my art work for the Art Stroll tomorrow in my home town.  It took about twenty minutes.  The florist I was assigned to display at already had an area picked out for me.  It was just a matter of arranging my books and frames.

House cleaning tonight.  Not looking forward to it.  But Saint Marty loves him a clean shower in the morning.  Another grey out on the way.  See you...

Finally, a computer message I understand

April 27: Spirit Dropped, Fear, Art Walk

The Spirit dropped beneath it, so that the extinguisher covered its whole form; but though Scrooge pressed it down with all his force, he could not hide the light, which streamed from under it, in an unbroken flood upon the ground.

The Spirit in question is the Ghost of Christmas Past.  Scrooge is intent on ridding himself of the Ghost's visions, which have become painful reminders of people and opportunities Scrooge has missed.  A sister who died in childbirth.  A woman to whom he was engaged.  Children who might have called him "father."  Scrooge wants to blot these memories out of existence, extinguish their light.  But he can't do it completely.  There's too much light to retreat into darkness.

Many of Scrooge's problems in the past have to do with fear.  His fiance tells him at one point, "You fear the world too much."  In trying to protect himself from heartbreak and pain and disappointment, Scrooge ends up rich and lonely and miserable.  Fear motivates all of the choices in his young life, and this fear sentences him to an existence without love or hope.

Fear.  Every person lives with it.  Today, I have a big fear.  I have been putting together some of my drawings for a local art exhibition that takes place tomorrow.  It's called an "art walk," and the participating artists display their works in local business establishments.  The goal, I assume, is to draw art lovers to the businesses and also provide a venue for local artists to sell their creations.

I have never thought of myself as an artist.  I have never attempted to sell any of sketches.  I don't know the first thing about how to display them or how much I should charge for them.  I don't know if I have to be present for the whole day of the art walk or just a portion of it.  I actually don't know if I have to be present at all.  I have a lot of questions, and very few answers.  That makes me anxious.  Fearful.

This afternoon, I have to go "set up" my art at the business to which I've been assigned.  I don't even know what "setting up" entails.  I like my life to be a little more definite.  More fixed.  Instead, I'm living with negative capability, and I hate it.

Saint Marty isn't asking for much.  Just some answers.  And some customers.  And some confidence.

Proceed With Caution