The monsoon is back in Arizona.
While it typically means a nasty rise in humidity, which coupled with a hundred degrees plus will cause even the most prudish resident to consider the nudist lifestyle, it is still my favorite time of year. The desert is a harsh environment; something easy to forget for those of us fortunate to have comforts like air conditioning and ice cream sandwiches, but the monsoon makes us sit up and pay attention--immense clouds, thousands of lightning strikes and sudden flooding rains. Plus, every year, despite numerous public service announcements warning against it, some nitwit tries to cross a flooded wash and ends up being rescued off the roof of a car he apparently confused with a pontoon boat. The hours of local news coverage and smug snickering by reporters and viewers alike ensures the guilty party will be forced to relocate under an assumed name.
You can’t buy entertainment like that.
I have been working on writing some children’s book manuscripts, including one about the monsoon here in AZ. Like most illustrators, I have a drawer full of half-baked ideas in various stages of development. I’ve gotten some positive feedback over the years, but was always busy with illustration work. So the stories were put on the back burner, along with the print making, mosaic making, quilting, oil painting, batiking, gourmet cooking, a degree in neuroscience, and losing five pounds. Enter economic downturn, and I find myself with time to revisit and perhaps fully cook to golden crispy perfection some of these ideas. So, when I’m not out snapping photos of the monsoon, I will be writing, and pointing and laughing at the latest doofus to be rescued off his car.
