The Slow Drive

I have been overwhelmed by the comments made and the support offered by fellow bloggers this past few weeks. All those who have commented, on the content of the blog, and those who have offered support in my time of pain, I give you thanks. I painted on Friday working on the painting I showed you a few days ago, “In the Beginning,” adding more texture and making the colours more alive. I am not sure I have improved it and I am kind of stuck with where to go next but the joy of being back in front of the easel. Maybe not wise, in the light of yesterday’s pain, but it did make me feel good.


This reminds me of an event that happened to me some time ago. Before moving to this part of the world I used to live in the west of Scotland. There I was a member of a fitness complex and golf club. During the summer holidays I spent long hours there. Not far from the complex was a shopping area with a little inn. Now again we visited on the way home.

One day I went in there were three members of staff and two customers, myself and another. The staff were busy, cleaning glasses, wiping tables and dusting bottles. I waited and waited until at last I felt forced to ask if anybody was serving. I was told to have patience they would be there soon. I waited another three minutes and left.

Two weeks or so later I was visiting one of the shops and as I passed the inn I saw the manageress leave in her car. She ended up just behind my car following down the hill. I slowed my car to a slow rate and drove onwards. She was getting more and more impatient, flashing her lights at me and the odd peep in her horn. When we reached the bottom at a junction I stopped my car and walked back to hers. “Have you got a problem?” I asked. “I was wondering what was keeping you making you so slow,” said the lady. “Ah, just what I was wondering last time I was in your inn.”

Did I achieve anything? Not really, I felt good at the time but just for a short moment. My impatience has often led me to do things I have later regretted. Did I change her attitude? I do not know but I doubt it. So here I am all those years later asking the same questions. Has my impatience ruined this painting? Was I wise to let impulse drive me to the easel too soon? Is it good enough to say it felt good at the time?


This blog is linked to my other blog where the artwork used is discussed:-Early Morning Fishing

Going With The Flow

They had been together for many years, Jim and Mary, yet they were as close as the day they were married. The neighbours used to comment on how when either was leaving the house on their own the other came to the front door and they parted with a kiss. This day was no different. Jim was heading to meet up with some of his old cronies from the war years, a reunion lunch. Mary had packed his overnight bag for him and made sure he had all he needed. As he left she was there at the door with him with his farewell kiss.


Jim headed off in his car, heading for the venue; he thought the journey might take him just over an hour if he took the M1 motorway. It would be good to see the boys again and to chat over the old days. When they met they always had a grand night sharing jokes and laughs.

He had been gone about forty-five minutes when the phone in the car rang and Marys voice came over the speaker. “Jim,” she said, “be very careful. I have just heard the news on the radio, there is a car travelling the wrong way up the M1. He replied, “A car going the wrong. Let me tell you there is more than one going the wrong way there seems to be about a hundred of them.”

There is another story of an old man who was seen one day by a crowd of people as he jumped into a raging river. They all stood in awe as they watched him certain that he would be swept over the falls to his death. As they watched they saw him being swept ever closer and then without warning over the cliff in the raging waterfall. They gasped and held their breaths. Then as they watched they saw him emerge from the water and head back towards them.

When he arrived back at the spot where he had entered the water they asked him how he had managed it. He told them that he had fallen into this river at that spot as a very young child. The natural reaction of a child is to merge with the water and not to try and fight against it. He had learned this and for the rest of his life he had on a regular basis used this as a form of exercise.

There are times when it is wiser to go with the flow than to fight against it, to go with the crowd and not find you are heading straight into certain danger. But there are also times when to make a stand or to make a change of direction is the way to go. The wise thing is to know when and where.


This blog is linked to my other blog where I discuss the artwork used it can be seen at:-  The Flow of Life

Thanks to all those who have sent messages of well wishes. Still in a great deal of pain but am assured it will get better after a couple of weeks.