Dan & Grace Get Artsy 🎨

It's not often that I venture out and do these sort of blogs without Pork Chop, but today a friend and I took a Saturday trip out to the Worcester Art Museum. You may see her tagged from time to time on Instagram and Facebook posts advertising out little outings. The one, the only, Miss Grace. Now as you guys know, I don't drive. We could have taken the bus to Worcester, but she offered to drive us. It's about an hour away from where we are so it's not much of a drive, especially since we always go to Manchester. he more I thought about it, the more I realised that I would be in a car even longer on a bigger, faster and more dangerous motorway. The volume on my anxiety spiked up to 12, but I already bought the tickets. As my therapist tells me, you can't let anxiety get in the way of everything, so I decided that I wouldn't let it get in the way this time. Sometimes I'm unable to judge if the anxiety is warranted if it's just my paranoia or if it's somewhere in the middle. I'm only sure of one thing. I cannot make this trip sober. I pop a couple of my favourite gummies, eating roughly 10 of the 5mg gummies. I want to make sure that I have a good time and that's usually what I'm up to. Between 8-10 of the gummies that are 5mg. I get high and coast for hours, it usually ended in me falling asleep in a ball on the bed or passed out in front of my laptop on the floor. Today's not a day for that. I'm going to stay awake and enjoy the trip.There will be a review of the product coming soon! Purchase links are down below so you guys can know where I get some of my bomb little treats. We get in the car and head out on an adventure. We're using GPS since neither of us has ever been to the museum before. I'd been to Worcester several times before, but never really spent a lot of time there. I went when I was visiting with friends or taken the bus there. The GPS has us take an odd start to the journey. We start to move in the opposite way of how I know how to get to the motorway. I'm just going to trust that it knows best. (Also by this point I'm too giggly to really question things.) We move into woodsy territory and I start to panic that we're heading into the lair of a serial killer. The trees don't look friendly. They're brooding over us, only allowing cracks of sunlight to peek through. After what feels like an eternity we see the signs for the Masspike and head out onto the motorway. This is the part of the trip that I've been dreading the most. It's not that I don't trust Grace driving, I do, I just panic with speed and cars. It's gotten worse over the years, but I manage to do it. I'm almost regretting doing this trip stoned as the anxiety becomes magnified. Usually I'm chilled out with edibles, but today was just not my day. Now for those of you who don't know, traffic moves heavy and fast on this stretch of road and is known for high speed accidents. That's not something that I want to happen today. We merge out onto the motorway, the open road right in front of us. We have about 45 minutes left on the drive, maybe a little longer. Damn, we weren't really in the woods that long. I check my watch, unable to understand the concept of time. Maybe we went through a wormhole in another dimension. I'm watching all the cars as anxiety crawls up the back of my throat. She's keeping up with traffic, speeding along while I'm trying to surpress a panic attack. She asks me if I'm good and I tell her yes. I pray that we make it there in one piece. I know she doesn't care for motorway driving that much. I worry most about the big semi trucks that use this route to transport goods in and out of Boston and elsewhere. Those trucks can't stop quickly, their heavy and sometimes they have the tendency to flip over during crashes. I imagine all sorts of scenarios, me lying dead in a ditch which is oddly upsetting considering my views on life and suicidal thoughts that always seem to creep into my mind when I least expect it. After what feels like the most anxious ride ever we arrive at our exit, slowing down and heading into what I imagine is the city centre and on to the art museum. I'm not sure what to expect when we have our tickets scnaned in the exterence. I've never been to this museum before. The enterence set up reminds me of a museum that Winkles and I went to when we did our trip to Ottowa. Speaking of that, I really want to go and spend more time in the Canadian capital. I've been to so many capital cities that it's almost hard for me to fathom. I really love seeing the capital cities of each of the countries that I've visited and branch out from there. You really get a feel for each nation by doing so. Now that travel is opening back up I'm getting more and more pumped to go back to Canada. We walk into a gorgeous room with an inviting staircase. I feel like I'm Cinderella heading up the steps. Though I can't imagine myself in anything powder blue nor wearing glass shoes. Maybe the thong she was wearing dependig on who I'm going out with, but that's about it. The first part of the museum is ancient works. The sculpure work is gorgeous. Sometimes it blows my mind that these were created by human hands...that someone has that kind of skill. I can draw and sketch but I can't sculpt worth a fuck. More power to anyone who can. I snap pictures here and there capturing some of my favourite pieces. The armour works are gorgeous. I can imagine myself in a knights outfit riding on horseback to save a princess, despite my dislike of horses. It's been a magical week of zoos, the aqarium and now an art museum. I'm glad I took the time off to recharge, I really needed to do that. Work was crushing me and I was being burned out from everything going on there and my worsening depression. Works of William Blake and Albert Dürer take me back to the days of my teen years when I would pour over books containing their works and dreaming of being able to one day take in the masterpieces that captured my imagination; now I can say that 15 years later I've seen almost all of my favourite works around th world. There are pleanty that I still have to see on my list. I can't wait to head to Russia and Italy and take in all they have the offer. We take in carvings that are thousands of years old, marvelling at not only the craftsmanship, but the preservation of the artifacts. I see my favourite Monet piece and almost have a low grade freak out because I love his work. I've seen it in several pieces but I never have been able to lay eyes on Waterlillies. So simple, but his use of colour is brilliant. Its delicate and pure. Captivating yet seductive enough to hold your gaze for more than a few minutes. You see the layers of colour and the careful skill he posessed. There is other Monet work in the museum, but that one has a special place in my heart. I take it all in. It feels as if all the different paints are melting down the walls and colouring me. I want to just lay on the floor and take it all in. All of my senses are alive with the help of cannabis and traditional art. For some reason the painting starts to remind me of melting ice-cream and I'm tempted to roll around on the canvas, licking the melted flavours off me. Strawberry. Vanilla. Mint Chocolate Chip...I see it unfold before my eyes as Grace calls me name, pulling my attention away from the Monet. I follow her into the next room, my thoughts still on my sundae fun. I wonder why it's spelled that way. I mean, we use "read" and "read"-spelled the same for two different tenses...maybe because they both involve a similar action? I don't know. I didn't do a degree in linguistics... After what feels like a short amount of time, we've finished the entire museum. I check my watch it's been nearly two hours. Where does the time go? I follow Grace out of the buildin before I start to have a philisophical discussion with myself about time, the concept of it, consciousness and what lays beyond what we experience in our waking states. Now that's one thing that drives me up the wall, especially when I'm baked. I realise that our bodies are nothing more than prisions for our consciousness and that one day when they body breaks down the internal part-the thing that makes me me and you you will be released and possibly recycled somewhere, entering a new vessel. What's with all this Eastern philopsophy all of a sudden. This isn't the first time either. Remember that time in Los Angeles with the Blue Dream cookies and I saw the tree of life, the river of loneliness. I saw what it meant to be alive as I fought the urge to drown myself in the river, wanting to see what lays beyond this vale of constant emptiness. Sometimes its hard to find the motivation to write blogs. I want to share with people my adventures, but between work and everything else, I can't find the focus to sit down and do these. My time off was two weeks ago and I still haven't. finished the zoo blog that I started and I haven't even started on the second zoo or the aquarium one. Seeing as I have a little time off from work this week, I should be able to piece some things together for you guys. 🎨LINKS🎨