Dripping Fingers
Dripping with sweat, that is. The room that's air conditioned doesn't get good WIFI reception, so am sitting in what used to be (before the last time it was deluged with rain coming in and flooding the work surface) my studio.

About to deliver the last of the promised summer projects, for the "Crossing Boundaries" show at the Chicago Printmakers Collaborative. Which means leaving the house.

Which means driving somewhere in my air-conditioned car. Joy joy joy. I think I'd deliver something to them even if I wasn't in the show just to have an excuse to drive around.

This is actually what I did last night around 10 pm. My feeble air conditioner couldn't be coaxed into producing cooler air, so went for a drive up along the lake shore, thinking maybe I'd go for a walk on the beach. Beach was, if anything, hotter than inland, unfortunately, so went to a Walgreens and milled around with the other people escaping from the heat. Amazing how many people suddenly felt the need to buy a toothbrush and had to spend a couple of hours on the selection.

Then had a power outage during the night, so woke up completely disoriented because it was so silent -- no sound of fans or air conditioners or neighbors's air conditioners or even traffic (I guess everyone had left Walgreens by this point). Figured I'd suffocate or broil if I stayed in the closed up space in which I'd barricaded myself, so dragged myself upstairs to the room with the fan and the open windows and the soggy pile of something called bed and pillows.

I think the hours spent in actual "sleep" since this thing started number about 5.

About to leave now.

Here I go...
- posted by Cynthia @ 12:11 PM | | | Link |