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NANCY ROBINSON

  • Home
  • About
    • Professional Bio
    • Resume
    • Art Exhibitions
    • Selected Recent Press
    • Reviews and Citations
    • Fellowships and Awards
    • Guest Artist Appearances
    • Teaching
    • Literary Events
    • Contact Nancy Robinson
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    • Artist Statement
    • Featured paintings
    • Minneapolis Institute of Art Show: "Sin and Guilt"
    • Bananas
    • Birds
    • Dogs
    • Family Matters
    • Genre Scenes
    • Hair
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    • Hunting, Farming, Fishing, and Sailing
    • Pinocchios
    • The Sketchbook Show
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Travelogue

March 27, 2015 Nancy Robinson

Are you one of those people who travels a lot? I don't mean like traveling for your job; I mean traveling for the sake of travel. Are you possibly a travel maven?

I seem to know a lot of travelers. They're constantly bopping all over the planet...they feel at home  everywhere and never get lost. They love the thrill of adventure and cherish every memory of food poisoning and seasickness. They seek out madcap adventures with attractive and dangerous people they meet along the way and never see again.

My travel resume is spotty, unglamorous and fraught with inconsistency. I'm embarrassed about it and try to stay out of conversations about travel, but sometimes I can't avoid it. For example, last week I went to a party in an upscale neighborhood near Hennepin and Franklin Avenues. The party was an opulent bash with caterers and cocktail dresses, and yes I wore my pink prom dress. At first I was doing a great job of mingling and appearing to be a self-confident rich person, but suddenly everyone started talking about travel. It was horrendous: everyone except me seemed to be an inveterate traveler. People were comparing notes about obscure places they'd all visited and I'd never heard of. Every time they'd turn to me and say "Tell us about your adventures" I'd pretend my cellphone was vibrating in my evening bag and dash off to a corner to take the "call".

Just as I was preparing to sneak out and go home,  I noticed a man sitting on a couch. He was holding a glass of wine and a plate full of hors d'oevres. He had a contented smile on his very-handsome face.  I decided I had to meet him immediately. Not only was he the kind of guy who totally rings my bell, it dawned on me that if I attached myself to a glamorous traveler-type and followed him all over the planet, it was just a matter of time before I too had a brilliant travel resume.

I put on my best party grin and sidled over to the handsome stranger. I said to him, "Do you travel much?"

"I'm traveling all the time," he said. His smile never wavered.

"Tell me about your travels," I said, sitting on the floor and looking upwards at him with a rapt expression ( beauty tip: looking upwards at someone outwits gravity and makes you appear 20 years younger)

"This morning I awoke and traveled from the bedroom to the kitchen," he said. "Then I traveled from the kitchen to the bathroom."

"Yes?" I said.

"Then I traveled to the living room."

"Uh huh," I said.

"Then I traveled back to the bedroom," he said.

"And then what?" I said.

"I went back to bed," he said.

"Why?" I said. "Were you ill?"

"No," he said. "I was exhausted from all that traveling."

"Of course," I said.

"Do you travel much?" he said.

"Yes," I said. "I guess I do."

 

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