Mt. Tremper Residency Drawings: The Rain of Terror

Are you a creative person?  Have you ever dreamed of going somewhere quiet?  A beautiful getaway where you could work…. completely uninterrupted? Perhaps you should think again.

I was trapped in a rainy cabin alone in upstate New York for a week where I was invited to work by my gracious friends… and completely freaked out!  It was so scary.  I was suspicious of the neighbors, passing vehicles, the dark, the leaves falling past the windows spooked me again and again.  I was afraid that the beams of the house would break and that I would be crushed by the fallen ceiling.  I kept my eyes open at night to make sure the beamed roof stayed up.  Who knew???  I was afraid that the wood burning stove would set the house on fire if I took a nap.  I was afraid that I would go out to the market and get lost!  And end up in… Canada?  There was no cell phone reception.  Who would guide me home?  But I was there I was determined to make some sort of art.   I nervously scribbled pictures of EVERY visible item in the cabin. (pictures below)

I went there with dreams of becoming a landscape artist, finally connecting with the trees, river, and flowers.  I could recall liking flowers as a little girl.  But now a city girl of 15 years, I needed to find out why.  But I was too afraid to explore the woods and limited myself to one excursion.  The only reason I went on the bike ride was because I thought if I didn’t, my hosts would definitely get mad. I was definitely afraid of them getting mad.  There wasn’t even a helmet!  But they had kept saying before they left, ‘You HAVE to get out and explore our CUTE little town!  And our bike is so CUTE, you’ll LOVE it!

The only way I could sleep at night was to shut all the blinds, turn on the lights, lie stiffly on the sagging blue living room couch, and call my husband on the land line to ask him to google knock knock jokes.  His voice was my only comfort.  That and the homemade fruit roll ups I had procured on my one bicycle ride.  I counted the days.  I counted the half-days.  But I was determined to withstand.  Something good must come of this.  My showers were a huge issue.  Since I was terrified of some drunk woodsy pirate ambling in unannounced, I showered with the curtain, the door, and my eyes open, looking at the exit while I got sudsy and rinsed as quick as I could.  And the sound of the rain rapping on the skylights became like bullet shots after a whole week of downpour.  I began to flinch at the sound.

When I opened the door and rushed out to welcome my friends home, we found the creek had completely flooded and the next morning the roads were closed.  But all was rosy then.  The sun came back the moment they pulled in the driveway, in a cute little gesture, as if to mock me.  And the sky whispered, “Haaaaa! They’ll never know!!”