Heading For The Barn

It was a dark and stormy night. Well, it was dark and it was raining.

We had been wine tasting down in the Willamette Valley on a cool autumn day, our teeth stained gray by the luscious pinot noir we'd tried. After a prudent break in the action, and a meal to fill our stomachs, we headed back north to Portland. I sat in the back seat.

The best place for me is always in the back given my penchant for dramatic air-driving to assist the actual driver from steering us into certain death. From there I can mutter exclamations, grit my teeth and hold tightly onto myself in phobic peace. On this drive there was little to see. It was pitch black even on the major highways as we hurled home.

Dark Driving © Lissa Banks 2019

When I was at camp--a horsy kind of place, just right for this little tomboy--we rode trail horses of all colors and sizes. And also of personality. First year campers were given the older, more experienced horses who were slow to rile and, well, just all over slow...with one exception.

At some point in the ride they knew, having traipsed these trails much of their lives, that home was nigh. So with the scent of the barn in their nostrils they perked up their ears and picked up their pace. We were warned to not let our chargers break into a trot, let alone a gallop, lest we newbies loose control. So we plodded on. How we all longed to let them go for it and make like Annie Oakley along with them.

Gone are those days for me. I'm sure that when we parked the car and dashed inside, I didn't even think twice about the intense fear I had experienced just moments before.  As annoying as my fear of being a passenger is to my fellow travelers, and I know this because they tell me, I long for those days of casting caution to the wind and spurring on the steed, wind in my hair and rain on my cheeks.

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Loosening Up

I'm at a bit of loose ends.

Started one project in oil but it needs to dry before I can move forward. Waiting for a call back from the collector to start working on a commission. Can you hear my fingers thrumming on the desk?

Not wanting to get into anything too ambitious I decided to aim to complete one canvas in one day. This is counter to my instincts. One day requires spontaneity. Anyone who knows me well, knows that I'm a ducks in a row kinda person. There is a list somewhere in every room of my house.

Enter Autumn Mist - Willamette Valley
© Lissa Banks

I turned to my trove of photos and found a shot from a memorable visit to the Willamette Valley wine country in Oregon. It was November so the crush was long tucked away and being transformed by the miracle that turns grape juice into wine.

Maybe it was the spirit of the spirit moving through me (we did enjoy some good wines that trip) but I think I've captured the atmosphere fairly well...mist rising over a nearby ridge, edging through the pines and onto the yellowing vines.

That was fun, think I'll do it again.

  For more about my work follow me on Facebook or visit my website Lissa Banks Paintings.