It’s only May, and already I’m fantasizing about summer road trips
and exotic jaunts. But then I remember that almost every time I go on
vacation my glow wears off once the artists show up. Inevitably, I see
a traveler who is painting or sketching, creating significant and
personal mementos while I am left envious and grumpy because all I have
to take home are cheesy postcards and tacky magnets. This can’t go on!