Painter

The log of a traveling painter

June 23

I am rather unhappy with how my visit with you and Mom went last week. I really do try to be friendly with you two whenever I come back home during my vacations but I found this particular occasion to be rather trying of my good nature. I am sorry for any irrational decisions I may have made, but I think that you will find that they were justified. I know you two want me to use my schooling and education to major in engineering or medicine or something that will lead to a “respectable, high-paying job,” as you so gracefully put it. But, you know me. I am not crazy enough to put myself through that sort of mental torment, so instead I will continue with my art major. Before I go back to college, I thought it would be nice to take a road trip around the country, since this will probably be one of the only times that I get to see it. Don’t worry, I will keep you posted about all that I am doing and I hope that these letters will convince you that I need to embrace my artistic soul. And please tell my friend Jon that I intend to return his car soon.

June 26

I have been driving along the main highway for several days now. On the evenings, if the time is right and I can find a good spot to park on the side of the road, I will take out my pastels and drawing pad and capture the sky as the sun’s last crimson rays beam over the mountain tops and trees. Each painting is different, I think. Some days, the sun is complacent and it slides quietly behind the world. Other days, it defines itself by casting a flame over the sky. For some reason it reminds me of home. Maybe it reminds me of sitting in my room and watching as the sun lit up everything. And then he went away.

June 30

Now I know that I haven’t been in one location for longer than a day, but a letter response would be nice. I know you two are still angry at me and that is why you won’t send me anything, but it would be nice if you did. Also, I could have used you two when I was pulled over by the police the other day. They thought that I looked like some criminal on the run. How ridiculous is that? It’s fortunate that I was smart enough to change the license plates on Jon’s car, so that he wouldn’t get in trouble for my driving. Also, you will be happy to hear that I finally cut my hair. And by cut, I mean to say that I shaved it all off. Getting use to how it looks. I will occasionally stand in front on bathroom mirror in my motel room and examine my work. I swear the light reflecting off of my head is blinding. Sometimes, I turn off the lights and my radiant head lights up the room.

July 4

I am officially declaring my independence from you and Mom. I know you two are busy but as your sun, I feel like I deserve some sort of acknowledgement. Remember when last year when we watched the fireworks from our porch in silence and then you two talked about me until 4 in the morning. That was a good day.

July 5

I am sorry for my last letter’s brevity. I just got your letter today. I read it just now. I am not wasting my potential. I am having the time of my life out here in the wilderness. I imagine that if I were playing hide-and-seek, I would win because no one could find me. I think you will be proud about the relations I have been building out here. I am acquainted with the Sun now. I talk to him how he feels and about the days he slides quietly behind the world and the days that he casts a flame over the sky. I think we aren’t too far apart from each other, the Sun and I, and of that, you should be proud. I can’t imagine what is good enough for you two if the Sun isn’t.

July 8

The Sun and I were driving today and the Sun wanted to go back home. As you can imagine, the Sun was very homesick, as he, like I, has been on his own road trip. We got to the Sun house today, or of what remained, and the Sun was displeased. His home was a black, burnt crisp of what it had been. We walked under the police tape surrounding the house and stood on the porch when the Sun would sit when he came back home at night and when the fireworks of independence exploded over head. We walked into the Sun’s room, where the Sun had started the fire. The Sun had taken all of his valuables before he left the burning house and he took the screams with him too. Anyways, the Sun and I went out to lunch at a nearby diner after that. I think you two would find him to be quite reasonable if you just took the time to get to know him. I feel bad for the poor thing, having to live with the burden of burning up his parents. But I think it would be hard to be the Sun and to not set everything ablaze around you. Anyways, I thought it would be nice to bring the Sun over for dinner sometime at our home. We will be driving back home soon and I will return the car to Jon and you two can expect us over soon. I am just so glad that we have a family that the Sun will feel accepted in.