Duluth got a little smaller today, in a good way. Today was another just-me-painting day, and for the most part, I was really digging the peace and quiet. It was periodically interrupted with delightful interactions from passers-by. Lots of folks would roll down their car windows (dating myself- I know that no one really rolls down their windows anymore) and say the kindest things. A dear friend showed up, on the off chance I'd be painting, and we had a blessed and over-due catching up. After six hours of painting, I was ruing the fact that I'd run out of bottled water, when a delightful fellow named Frederick pulled up.
"I've never met a mural artist before!"
"Here I am!"
"Would you like a Gatorade or something?"
"I would LOVE a Gatorade or something!"
He started fishing around in his car, and was stricken when he realized the bag he thought he had drinks in was not with him. He apologized profusely, but I let him know that I was touched by the offer, and if one could feel hydrated by kindness, I did. I resumed the tedious work of finishing the frame of the mural (my idea is that it would look like a panel from a graphic novel), when I heard a car pull up from behind. I turned around, and it was Gatorade Frederick, returning with a drink! I'll never know, I suppose, if he found the bag, returned home, or dashed out to a convenience store, but I was very glad to have that drink. It wasn't so much that I was in danger from perishing due to thirst. I guess it's just that someone felt that connected to a silly wall of ants, and their creator.
I love Duluth.