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Motorcyclists stop to enjoy a late afternoon view on Mt Wachussett.

Being an artist is weird. You aren’t “normal” in that you don’t have a “job” and run the rat race like other people, you don’t do the same thing day after day for the money, and you surely aren’t understood by the vast majority of people. You live your life allowing your little gray cells out of their cage, so they can do wild, weird and sometimes wonderful things. I spent nearly 30 years being the reliable little drone, making widgets, taking measurements, delivering projectors, selling insurance and fixing electronics; absolutely NONE of which gave me any joy or fulfillment. I was always yearning for that release – the thing that would let those emotions and excitements out of their cubicles to do some really...