Road trip to Rye

This was supposed to be a straightforward car journey to the local town of Rye, down the country lanes of Kent.

Sally has been a significant part of my support network throughout this course. As an art historian and homeopath, we have travelled miles together, sharing common ideas and frameworks about the mind, body, and spirit, as well as a love of art. Sally is my gallery companion.

Usually, the conversation flows easily, but today I found it challenging. Not because of anything related to the conversation, but due to the way my brain was working. I couldn't string the sentences together.

There had been an awful lot going on at college; struggling to print varnish, critiques and the London Original Print Fair—lots to discuss. I need to take a couple of days off to relax.

If I needed an external metaphor for my internal state, this was it. I have travelled along these roads for about 35 years, but today I got myself lost. I couldn't work out where I was, where I was going, and I had no idea how I was going to get there. I literally had to pull over and check with maps to see my journey.

Sally commented, “I hope you are going to write this up in your journal?”