Setting out to unleash my inner artist, I recently traveled to Weir Farm, a national historic site located in Wilton, CT.  Curious about what I would find and anxious to unlock my what I can now label semi-blocked creativity (5 weeks into Julia Cameron’s The Artist Way), I arrived at Weir Farm mid afternoon.  The place was densely attended with a few families bringing their children to the farm.  I silently applauded their parenting skills and made a mental note that this is something I would do when I had children.  Stopping at the visitors center, I was given a map and advised that painting materials awaited me free of charge.  What a great benefit!  Ever the multi-tasker, I added the canvas bag with art supplies to my already ladened hands.  My friend Mo would get a kick out of the fact that I had a large purse, a laptop bag, and now art supplies.  As I said, fully ladened without an inkling that this was not the right idea for my artist date. 

As I headed for the trail, I came across a sign cautioning unsuspecting victims (ok, a bit harsh but there nonetheless as a disclaimer for the willing artist) that coyotes were on the property. 

Coyote Sign

It worked.  I hightailed it back towards the main building and visitor’s center.  However, I heard a voice say “fear wins”.  Certainly the magic words that caused me to turn around and face my fear of the coyotes (who I hoped were sleeping) and head back to the trail to the Weir Pond.  I envisioned a majestic spot for painting, writing, and blogging as I trudged along.  Well actually, there was also a man with his 2 younger boys ahead of me.  I figured if they could bravely walk into the trail with no fear, then I was in good company.  He did ask me if I had seen the sign about the coyotes.  Yes, I hardly think one could miss it.  However, he made me feel better by saying that the coyotes usually come out after dark.  This meant I had some time to tap into the inner artist.  I couldn’t wait to see what she came up with as her debut piece.  Trailing behind the hikers who seemed more prepared than I with water and hiking sticks, I finally made it to the pond.  My expectations were a bit misguided in that I imagined a perfect spot for me and my materials.  Perhaps I gave myself extra credit for thoroughly embracing nature.   Continuing the journey as signs denoted the path to the waterfall dam, I encountered yet another sign advising of the aggressive coyotes that caused a portion of the trail to be closed off.  Always one to heed directions, I decided I had seen enough of the trail for today.  Certainly painting opportunities awaited me in the vicinity of the visitor’s center.  Getting back was another story.  Did I mention that I have a navigation system built into my car and such would be a good idea for trails that are unfamiliar to you.  Needless to say I lost my way in the trail and found myself with the option of cutting through backyards with signs advising of invisible fences.   What started as an artist date ended up being the artist hike.  Technology came to my rescue and I was able to locate and call the farm and gauge the distance back to the farm.  It was certainly nice to know that the ranger was willing to come and rescue me.  This was a good reference for future adventures.  Turns out I was a short distance from the farm and as I neared the farm, I decided that a return visit was in order to try my hand at painting.  For now, I was satisfied with the artist hike with a green tea frappacino looming as a reward.

My immediate lessons were:

• Things don’t always turn out the way you expect.  The phrase that comes to mind is “When you get lemons, make lemonade.”
• Fear is a constant battle so take steps one at a time at conquering your fears.
• Have faith that you have all the tools you need to come to your own rescue.
• As much as we’re programmed to believe multi-tasking is the be all end all, it isn’t always necessary.  It’s ok to slow down and do one thing (like painting)
• Obstacles always come up when you’re on a mission.
• The inner artist is still there and waiting for the next opportunity for her debut painting.

Until then . . .