Journey of the Blue Night - Cho Poong Ryu , 2012.
Korean, b.1970-
Korean ink and acrylic on canvas with white paint, powder paint, stone paint, gold 130x160cm

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Journey of the Blue Night - Cho Poong Ryu , 2012.
Korean, b.1970-
Korean ink and acrylic on canvas with white paint, powder paint, stone paint, gold 130x160cm
Bake Oven Knob Overlook • Appalachian Trail • Blue Mountain, PA • April 2026
Peter Sam
Self Portrait on Blue Mountain
Monday, Monday, Monday ...
“I can’t stand the rain against my window ... Bringing back sweet memories ...”
I can hear both Tina Turner and also the version from The Commitments. Either way, the rain keeps a-coming down in an extremely relentless fashion and I feel I’m losing a little of the fondness for the wet stuff.
I like rain, I really do. I like the sound of it, it helps me sleep at night ... but you can have too much of a good thing.
Yesterday was quite surprising as I realised I could see sunshine through the rather grimy lounge window. A combination of condensation on the inside, and whatever has attached itself to the pain of glass on the outside is making for quite the barrier between myself and the rarely seen ‘glowing orb.’ Nonetheless, I gazed outward for quite some time as I cuddled with Mr B. I informed him in a fairly chirpy fashion that I was looking at the sunshine ... however, his expression told me in no uncertain terms that quite frankly I should just carry on with both smooshing him and brushing him and not be at all distracted by such shiny trivialities.
The other picture was taken whilst sitting in one of the car parks in the shiny metropolis. Another grey day, another load of rain, and another moment of me wagging my finger at myself in admonishment at still having no raincoat. It was definitely with a great sigh that I eventually got myself out of the old charabanc and then I laughed wryly as my ‘pretender’ of a raincoat did its usual trick of succumbing almost instantly to the raindrops. As ever, I was left with that strange cold and damp feeling that you get from fabric that has done a half hearted nod in the direction of what were meant to be it’s capabilities, before throwing itself gleefully in the direction of giving up the ghost.
The shiny metropolis awaits my presence tomorrow (lucky me!). I haven’t yet checked the forecast, but I have the sneaky feeling that I don’t really need to. Still, there’s always the option of the umbrella (yes, I am still on that particular list), which comes with the added possibility of it being blown inside out. Hmmmmmm ... (ponders) ... perhaps that’s the way to go? That way (at least) I can go for the double wet and windy whammy and be not only dampened in spirit but also whisked in a direction down the street that will be of a startling nature to both myself and other passers by.
Doubt I’ll go all Gene Kelly on the situation, but you never know ........
Saturday’s vibes were immaculate
Forest silence Blue Mountains, Australia Photograph: Kathy Wallace