Grounded.

It’s Monday, October 29th.  The day that Hurricane Sandy hit the Tri-State Region.

I’m scrolling down the new WordPress posts for bloggers I follow.  My fingers sliding clumsily on the touch pad. Scrolling. Scrolling. (Cursing because I haven’t figured out this d*mn touch pad. I miss the eraser thing in the middle of keyboard.  Getting old.  Hating change.  Big clumsy fingers. I slide fingers in wrong direction and I’m taken to another website.  I lose my place.  Need to start back at the top.  Grrrrrrr. Can this be so difficult pal? )

My eyes flitting from post to post.  Scanning images and topics of interest.

My eyes land on the image on the left.  I freeze.  (What is it about this image?  I can feel its soothing effects.  The ‘Work’ clutch now slipping from OVERDRIVE to neutral.)

A few lines.  Black lines.  White background.  A simple image. A simple, beautiful human image.  (Let’s not get too carried away.  It’s certainly not that simple.  And nothing I could ever draw.)

I found it to be startling.

Mind chatter. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Hard taps.  Memories darting in and out. (I pan back.  Like the hard drive on my desk top computer. Whirring back.  Searching. Searching.  The first time was ~30,000 feet over Iowa.  Susan and I going home for a holiday break.  Baby is crying in the back.  She can feel her Mother’s tension.  The attendant breaks the silence: “Put your head between your knees.  If you are sitting in an emergency exit, we’ll need you to follow the instructions.”  Smoke gushing out from the back of the plane.  Everything moving in slow motion now.   The convenient Believer engages in Prayer.  May need it now.  Right now.)

I shiver.  I look outside and see Sandy’s winds picking up.  (My mind scanning again. ~29,000 feet over the Atlantic on the way to London.  On a 747.  2 am.  Pilot taking the Big Boy down, down, down.  Trying to find a swim lane without chop.  The giant plane is rolling side to side.  How big is this storm to push around a behemoth this size like a piñata?  20 minutes and the ship is still rockin’.  There’s stirring and murmuring in the cabin.  Nothing coming from the Pilot.  Odd.  No reassurances that we are almost out of this.  The convenient Believer cranks up the Prayers again and starts his chatter.)

I shiver again.

I stare back at the image.

She’s sitting in light.

She’s sitting softly.  In peace.

No gadgets. No race. No next win. No to-do’s.

She’s talking to me.  (To you Pal.  She’s talking to you. It’s a message.)

Plane lands safely.

And is temporarily grounded.

Life is precious.  Life is short.  Life is good.

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The drawing was Megan’s Day 269 post. She is on an image-a-day march and this landed on the day of Hurricane Sandy hitting Tri-State. Megan Bray is visual artist and art instructor living in Toronto.  She works and teaches in a variety of mediums (drawings, paintings, sculptures, digital, photography).  I couldn’t tell you how I found her blog but I anticipate what’s coming each day.  Megan Bray can be found at her wordpress blog at The Daily Visual and at her web site at MeganBray.com

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