Spent Friday running from the rain (and in the rain), until the afternoon when I drove corn to Montauk Point, and ventured with my Aunt Sue to Jackson Pollock's house outside the Hamptons. Although I knew his artwork, I didn't know the story of his death or the recluse-like life he lived with his wife before his affair and crashing his car (with lover/lover's friend) into a tree - that's what alcohol will do to you.
I could be funny and say, "Hmmm, I wonder if the tree looked like one of his paintings after he crashed?"
Ba dum dum, ch.
It was a grey day before the sun rays returned to Long Island. Looks like the next 72 hours will be pure blue sky and perfect temperatures. Lucked out this year. But now it's time to get to work.
Vacation does this to me...I lose track of time and the daily ritual of posting a thought each day.
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