I seem to often see little signs—some possible meaning or most often, a sense of being supernaturally seen, especially when alone, that leads to a sense of God’s presence with me–though I don’t go looking for such signs. But, I suppose I’m always searching for meaning, and connection, and some link between my own, small existence and the God of the universe. When I consider something possibly to be some sign of His presence with me in some way, it is more an after-the-fact notation.
And in this way, I just take notice of various types of things at certain times when I am feeling or thinking in certain (and various) ways. The meaning(s) derived from such back-and-forths between my own internal experiences and outward things (that are not in my control, but happen) is admittedly subjective and is so personal that only in sequential articulation might anyone else objectively (or subjectively, since objectivity in such matters is not possible…) be persuaded that in fact, God may have ordered this sequence of time-bound events that have some effect upon me.
I’d say the sequence began around 4 pm today when I was preparing to leave for a two-hour caricature gig that started at 5:30 pm and was only about a half hour from me. I made some chicken salad from canned chicken, on a bagel, and heated up some Campbell’s clam chowder, single-serving size. As I usually do, I was washing dishes while eating bites from my dinner, set upon the stove (while answering messages and otherwise preparing to leave). At one point, I decided I didn’t have enough time to eat the whole bagel and chicken salad, and I took the bowl of clam chowder with me upstairs while quickly finding what nicer outfit I should wear to this gig, eating bites of the soup in between all I was doing.
(I should note, that all three of my dinner items came from a recent trip to the Amish BB’s where one can buy packaged foods at deep discounts since the store only sells over-runs and items about to expire or slightly past the date.)
I showed up to the gig and walked into a nice, city-business fundraising event at a club, with many tables set for guests, good smells, and a three-piece music ensemble (saxophone, cello and…um…I think a keyboard or guitarist…I went quickly past them). Whenever there is live music, I anticipate a good event. I was pretty “on” tonight in terms of getting a likeness and personally conversing with each couple or guest in my chairs.
Meaning, I was animated and interactive and “fun” while drawing–which any caricaturist knows is what qualifies these gigs more as entertainment than “art” in many ways. It was a bit noisy and the lighting near the bar area was dimmed slightly such that I was having some glare issues and straining to see, ideally, but I had a number of good, interactive conversations that began each time with, “So tell me, what do you do?”
I find that engaging the person being drawn to talk about themselves and then asking more questions keeps them looking at me and makes it less awkward for them, rather than sitting in silence. (Sometimes I’m in situations or moods where for whatever reason, there is less verbal interaction and I just smile and draw and don’t engage as much.) Sometimes tonight, I was asked questions while drawing…several asked questions about where I lived or other things that led to me briefly saying I was new to PA and of course, some wanted to know how I got here…
During the two hours, I smelled a lot of good food being prepared and served. One thing in particular I smelled seemed to be clam (or seafood) chowder and it had the aroma of being quite well-made. As I was packing up, they had lots of cake desserts being put out in my area. Carrot cake, cheesecakes and other things. By then, the event was underway with microphone speeches.
Sometimes at gigs, the host will tell me to “go get yourself some food” right when I come or partway through. My policy is never to eat when I’m on the clock. It’s a kind gesture, of course, but I thank them and say that maybe I will get something at the end. Other times, the host may tell me at the end to grab a plate, or take something to-go. Other times, the host may be so busy (and there were hundreds there tonight) that they forget to welcome the entertainers to have some food when finished. Other times, I’ve been in situations in someone’s home with large numbers of family and shared food, and when I’m done drawing, I am simply paid and leave and there is no gesture of offering food.
Often at gigs, I can have a sense of being an outsider. I’m just there to draw guests, and thrust into a variety of social or business-related situations, celebrations and functions. I am welcomed, yet personally, I am there primarily to just perform and then leave. Unless I know the people, there are always amounts of social anxiety I experience, to some degree. Even though I can perform well within that situation, I am essentially more introverted and self-conscious, so, a two hour job feels like a full day to me, sometimes, in terms of social extroversion/drain.
Anyone who lives alone knows that eating alone is one of the hardest parts about solitude. Honestly, I don’t use my dining table when I’m here alone. It goes weeks, if not months, without anyone seated there–only when my son visits or occasionally, friends, do I use it. I normally eat standing in the kitchen–quickly–or in front of my computer, out in my studio, or occasionally in front of the TV.
So after I packed up tonight, I felt a little strange asking, but I approached the man with the chef’s hat who was arranging the desserts and asked if he might have a little to-go box that I could take some cake or maybe something else to eat on my drive home. I’m pretty sure he knew I had been doing caricatures nearby. Basically, he was trying to figure out what I wanted and what to do…it was an awkward conversation and then I smiled and said, “never mind, it’s fine,” after learning he didn’t have any to-go containers in back and they really weren’t supposed to do that.
As I was getting my stuff ready to leave he came back over to me, and looked like he had a compassionate, hesitant-even-pained look on his face, and started to say, “Maybe I could…” and I assured him it was no big deal and no worries. I wondered what he might have been thinking about me and my request. And, I was envisioning the awkwardness that might be involved even if he did have a styrofoam box…having to go to the back of that main room during speaker time. I just didn’t want to deal with it.
As I rolled my suitcase with my easel past a few tables and out the entrance into the night, I just had this weird feeling of doing so many things these days alone. There can be days go by where I don’t see another human, though I’m busy all day long and interact some with others through text, work interactions, etc. Two nights ago I ran some errands and decided to stop and get a cheesesteak at one of my go-to places, just to get out (and to eat red meat, ha ha). Last night I also had errands, and ended up eating in my car at Taco Bell.
I try not to buy food out regularly, but sometimes I run errands late in the day and reason that I won’t have more dishes. How I create so many dishes living alone, I will never know!
As I got in my van thinking about clam chowder and carrot cake, I remembered that I got some very generous tips tonight. I do not solicit tips at a paid gig, but if someone occasionally wants to tip me, I thank them and discreetly put it in my briefcase that holds my paper and supplies. That is protocol for gig artists who are hired to draw guests by a host.
Many (most) times I do not receive tips at a gig–but if it is a more formal affair, it is more likely that a person or two might turn around after walking away with their drawing and admiring it, and come back and tap me on the shoulder and slide something a little extra into my hand and smile.
Tonight, 3 different ones tipped me. One of the tips was handed to me by an individual that did come back several minutes later, and I was surprised to see the values on two bills in their hand, and I thanked them. And, interestingly, of all the various people I drew that night, I would not have expected such a generous tip from this particular person.
So I drove off thinking to myself, I could easily stop somewhere and get something to eat on my way home. By then, I was feeling like I needed more dinner.
I pulled into a Sal’s Pizza and thought, “tonight, ‘Sal’ will benefit from my tips, too!”
I thought to myself, intending to leave my purse in the car and just quickly go in with cash and my phone (to look at, of course), “How much cash should cover this?” I thought to myself, “$10…I should be able to get something for less than that.”
I then pulled out my tips, sitting in my vehicle, to count them. And I was surprised they added up to $42.
What a surprisingly large number, and, what an unusual number. Possibly.
42. That was what I learned from my teenage sons years ago was “the answer to every question about life and the universe.”
And 42. That was also the age I was when I went through my first divorce that left me alone, but, not as alone as the next one, since I still had the tethering of raising two teenage boys and the routine and purpose that provided, even amidst the post-divorce difficulties.
I took note of these three 42’s. In light of the overall mood I was in. Hmm. God does have a sense of humor. Only God would know that I would somehow find some meaning in the total of my tips, as I prepared to go get something to eat, while driving home, alone, unseen, to be greeted by cats. (who really don’t see me for who I am…they just see me as food!)
I decided I’d prepare to live a little large, ha ha, and I took a twenty dollar bill in to “Sal’s”. (I had never been in Sal’s before, though I’m referencing it as though I knew the place.) Remember, I was reasonably sure I’d only need $10 or less.
There were a group of people at the counter but they moved away when I stepped in line, and almost immediately Sal (I’m assuming the Italian guy was Sal, himself!) asked me in his accented voice, “What can I get for you?”
Hmm.
I’m notoriously confounded by menus. Fast food menus are the worst. Too many choices when one is on-the-spot speaking into a drive-through microphone to some faceless person, with a seemingly 100 cars behind me waiting for me to decide which of the nuanced “combos” I want.
Sal’s had all kinds of stuff on the white board, and a lot of food selections right in the case. I don’t know why, but I felt pressure to decide quickly, and I couldn’t.
I was looking at huge things I couldn’t imagine eating while driving (or even when not driving) and I was wondering, since I had eaten cheesesteak and Taco Bell the last two nights, what the healthiest (or most satisfying, enjoyable) option might be…and, I did not know.
All I saw were gobs of cheese, meat, bacon and carbs drizzled with butter.
And I found myself saying, “Give me a minute…I need…I need to get something I can eat WHILE DRIVING.”
“Sal” said, “Take your time.”
I glanced over his mile-high pizza and other selections and then asked, “How much are the garlic sticks?”
“Nine-nine cents,” he said.
I said, “I’ll take three with some sauce, please.” I mean, I was there to bless “Sal” (whomever he was, at the first place within blocks of The Club I had left) with ordering there from my tips. I didn’t think I really needed three of those garlic sticks, but, a two dollar order sounded so cheap after taking 2.3870935 minutes of his time to decide. I went to the soda frig and grabbed a water, and as I stepped three feet back toward the counter the water somehow slid out of my hand that was raised near my shoulder, and I made a reactionary sound, quick movement, and somehow awkwardly caught it before it hit the floor.
Understand, I was dressed fairly nicely, and was being very pleasant and polite on this little public excursion from my painted up van into this pizza place. I’m probably over-thinking things, but when I first said I needed time to decide what I could eat while driving, it marked me somehow as socially odd!
After I caught the slip-sliding-away water bottle, a concerned Sal said, “Are you OK???!!!”
I assured him I was just fine, and explained that I had almost dropped the bottle of water. “It just slid out of my hands!” (I got the sense he only saw my spastic movement and startled utterance!)
Oh, part of the issue might have been that as I was turning around with the water, I noticed a smaller piece of pizza and I was trying to tell him (before it was a done deal) to change my order. I said, “Actually, I’ll take this (pointing) piece of pizza and only two of the garlic sticks.” I think that is what I repeated after recovering the water bottle.
Sal confirmed that I wanted the small-heighted pizza with bacon and something on it, and said that he would “heat them all up for me.” (While I still sensed concern that I had half-convulsed trying to catch a bottle of water that mysteriously fell from my hands while I was in motion.)
He brought me the order (in a to-go box) and said, “I cut the pizza in half for you, so it will be easier for you to eat while driving.“ Then he said, “That will be $10.34.”
I handed him the twenty, and he handed me back a ten, saying, “For YOU, that will be TEN.”
As I left, I noticed they had fried pickles. If I had seen that first, I might have gone for those. I suppose I notice the more abstract (internal) signs rather than the actual signs right in front of me, sometimes!
Welcome to La-la land, I suppose.
I took it out to the car, and somehow managed to eat it while driving, while using my GPS, while still making a bit of a mess.
Occasionally, I glanced at cars behind me. Am I going too slowly? When I slow down just a tad while reaching for a napkin, and having my interior light on to see where the sauce is, yet still going the speed limit (which is never good enough), is there some man (or woman) behind one of those wheels with road rage, shouting alone in their car or otherwise muttering profanities at me?
Maybe. Maybe not.
All I kept thinking was, God saw me, and He wanted to let me know that though alone, I am not alone. And He also knows I like to laugh. I suppose the amusement of writing this tonight was someow good for me.
#clamchowder
#42
#10
#to-go boxes
#eatingalone
#contemplation
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