Not long ago while on vacation, I was riding in our van with my sketch pad in my lap. I was working on the horse in Valraven, a mixed media painting. Wearing motion sickness wristbands, trying to convince myself they were working, I scribbled, erased, scribbled, erased. The guys were listening to a book on CD and my husband was in a driving trance.  We were on a four lane highway in Northern California, heading south.

An eighteen wheeler inched up along us on my side. He was keeping the cab of his truck right there, next to me. There wasn’t much traffic, and just as I started to wonder “What the . . . ?” he tooted his horn very briefly. I looked up and saw him leaning forward, pointing down at my sketch, which was almost finished. He smiled, gave me a big thumbs up, and then rolled on past us.

My husband glanced over. “What was that about?”

“Oh, just 80,000 pounds of art aficionado . . . “

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