Wing Side Assistance

“On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair…”

Well, you know how the song goes. I mean I sure do because as luck would have it, my useless little 2013 Dodge Dart decided today would be the perfect day for the skip button to completely stop working so Hotel California has been on repeat all day long. Since this used to be my dad's car and I, unfortunately, do not have a Mercedes Benz like the woman in the song, all I have is an Eagles CD and a broken antenna so my options are either the same 10 songs on repeat or dead silence. Since me being alone with my thoughts is quite literally a disaster waiting to happen, The Eagles it is.

But anyway, getting back on track, I’ve been on the road for about 12 hours now given that it’s almost 9 at night. The road sign I passed a few minutes ago welcomed me to Arizona, so if I had to take a guess of where I was, that would be it.

This morning I woke up only to see my parents had packed everything I own into the car with nothing but a note telling me to not come back until I had some money. I knew it was only a matter of time before they would do this, I was just hoping they would at least give me a little warning or maybe a ‘love you goodbye’, but it’s fine, no hard feelings at all.

How sweet of them to pack my things, and so nicely too by cramming all my paint into the backseat and not storing my brushes the right way up. They are too kind. It’s not like each bristle was handcrafted to form the perfect stroke of paint, oh wait, that’s exactly what it’s like.

But hey, I get it, I really do. If my 20-year-old college dropout, or as my parents so kindly like to call me, a disappointment, was living in my house rent-free, I probably wouldn’t be too nice either. I have told them on multiple occasions that it was only a matter of time before I became a famous artist and could pay rent, but they didn’t believe that, and honestly neither did I. So what if I haven't painted anything in months, I just need some inspiration. I was waiting for something good to hit me, but nothing has and I guess my parents realized before I did that it never will.

Maybe this won’t be so bad though; my grandma gave me a good chunk of money not too long ago that my parents don’t know about so I can find a little hotel to stay in for a while and just focus on making something. Inspiration could strike at any time, I will just be very aware so that I don’t miss my chance.

This could very well be a blessing in disguise, though. It really was time for me to move on and get out of there, I guess I just needed a push. I would’ve preferred a less aggressive approach to kick me out but hey, beggars can’t be choosers, right?

“We are all just prisoners here, of our own device,” describes living in that house perfectly. Here we go with another Hotel California reference. That song has truly consumed every part of my subconscious. But anyway, back to my pity party, my parents never supported my artistic career or choices. They never even pretended to be interested in me or my talents. I’m positive that they just had a kid for the sole fact of making money off me, and since I can’t do that, off they send me. I can’t wait to shove it in their face when I become rich and famous just to show them they should've had faith in me.

This small trip to god knows where started off pretty strong not going to lie. I was feeling like a free woman for the first few hours. I just went onto the highway and decided to not stop until my eyes literally couldn’t stay open, which could be a while for me. I threw my hair into a messy bun to ensure the summer heat didn’t get to me. I put on my designer sunglasses with pink rhinestones that I definitely bought myself and didn’t steal money from my mom's purse. Okay, okay, now that I’m hearing it out loud, maybe them kicking me out actually can be justified.

But the freedom and joy I felt did not last long at all. In no time the sun was at its highest, and my AC doesn’t work because of course it doesn’t, so I’m sure you imagine the fun I’ve been having. My fingers started leaving sweat marks on the cracked leather steering wheel, the brakes began squealing because, shocker, I can’t afford to get them fixed, and, worst of all, one of the lenses on my sunglasses popped out. That was truly the icing on top of this already terrible cake. I would’ve cried my eyes out but the heat in that car was so intense, my eyes dried right up. If it weren’t for The Eagles playing on blast I’m sure I could've heard a sizzling noise on my cheek as those tears disintegrated faster than my parents kicked me out.

That was hours ago so everything is somewhat fine again since the sun went down. I have finally cooled off completely, but it is still just plain desert for miles. There’s no way I’m getting tired anytime soon either, so I’m in this for the long run. Now that you are completely caught up, there’s not much to say until I either find a place to stay for the night or I magically become a millionaire and all my problems are solved, but I don’t think either of those will happen tonight no matter how much I really want them to.

Oh, wait, never mind. I see a billboard coming up in a bit, but can’t quite make out what it says. Knowing my luck, this road will probably be ending soon and I’ll really have no idea what to do.

Wow. I was just saying that to be funny, I didn’t think it would actually be true. Well great, now what? I’ll have to make a quick decision, I just don’t know what. Oh look, there’s a little barn owl on the billboard, I’m sure she has her life more put together than I do. Great, now I’m jealous of an owl, could this day get any worse?

Just as I pull over right in front of the sign to let out my frustrations on this stupid car and my stupid life, I accidentally honk my horn and send the owl off. I felt bad, but she kept circling around the billboard until finally going off into the darkness. Because I’m impulsive and plain stupid at times, I followed her without a second thought. She really does look like she has everything figured out, maybe she can help me too.

I realize this sounds crazy, but I really have nothing to lose, so I follow her off-road for a good few minutes. I think she liked having me follow her too if I’m being honest because she kept a steady pace and didn’t get scared when I would drive over a tumbleweed or when my squeaky brakes would cry out.

As soon as I started getting skeptical and questioning my impulsivity, she slowed down and perched on some creepy-looking building. She just stared at me, her glowing golden eyes were so piercing that they left an imprint on my corneas even after I looked away. This started to feel like the beginning of a Stephen King film and I’m not about to get eaten by a clown so I quickly turn off my headlights and reverse for a few minutes until the glow from her eyes is finally gone from the darkest depths of my eyelids.

I turn the car off and pull a blanket over my head because as we all know blankets protect you from any and all danger. I am surrounded by silence, not counting my heavy breath and the occasional hoot of the owl I stupidly thought would lead me to something. The next thing I know, my eyes get heavy and I pass out right there despite the fear and nerves grasping onto me.

I snore myself awake and immediately touch my face to make sure I’m not dead. When I concluded I still am in fact alive, I turn my head to look around for any murderous clowns surrounding my car. When I ensure that there aren't any, I check the time to be 7 in the morning. Great. I follow an owl to some scary remote location and have no idea how to get back, plus I fell asleep so who knows what happened while I wasn’t awake.

Trying not to panic, I step out of my car for the first time in 24 hours and my spaghetti legs barely hold my weight before I inevitably collapse to the gravel. Despite wanting to just lay there in defeat and give up, I find the strength to pull myself up and dust my pants off.

Because I never learn my lesson and just love to test my luck, I walk forward for a bit as my curiosity eats me alive to find out what that building was that the owl led me to last night. She clearly knew where she was going, and I think I deserve to know after all this. Since it’s daylight now, I’m way more confident that nobody will kill me, but I still pick up a sharp stick on the way because you never know when a hungry clown will sneak attack.

“This could be Heaven or this could be Hell,” I hum to myself repeatedly as I approach the structure. Sorry, the Hotel California references will stop from this point forward, I just couldn’t help myself this one last time, it was too perfect.

As I get closer, I notice this little building isn’t scary at all, it’s just a little abandoned barn. It’s actually kind of cute in a weird way. I notice a small hole in the roof which must be for the owl to get in and out of there, so I decide to go in hoping to see a nest of baby owls. I slowly creak the door open, grasping the stick in my other hand ready to impale any clown or murderer in there waiting for me.

My shaky hand finally gets the worn-down wooden door open and I step in. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t anything close to what I actually saw. Sadly there were no baby owls, but there was something so much better; absolutely nothing. Now I know that might sound like a joke, but I’m serious. This little barn was completely empty of anything and everything.

I’m sure a normal person would just leave at this point, but I got struck with the best idea I’ve ever had. I was going to turn this little barn into my art studio. Think about it, it's perfect; nobody is around for miles, it’s a perfect size for one person, and I can use the scenery outside to inspire me to actually paint something for once. I’ve never had my own studio before, I mean that is unless you count the corner of my parent’s basement as a studio. I immediately run out to my car with excitement and grab as much as my tiny hands can hold to start claiming this little barn as my own.

My fumbling around with paint and canvases in my arms ends quickly as a loud noise coming from the barn drops me to my feet and all my supplies fall along with me. My hand goes right to my mouth to stop me from screaming as I see something move. A few more rustling noises fill the silence before the owl emerges from the hole and my hand drops and a smile takes over. An owl with pretty eyes and a sense of humor, I think we’re going to be great friends.

Once my heart stops racing its little marathon, I chuckle and pick up all my stuff once again. I make a couple hundred trips back and forth as I empty out the car my parents so nicely stuffed full of art supplies and a few other essentials I need because they actually aren’t as heartless as I thought.

Before I know it, the sun is setting and I check my watch for the first time today to see it’s already almost 6. I was too busy living out my interior designer fantasies decorating this little studio that I completely lost track of time. I step back after putting one last tube of paint on a shelf to admire my work. Thanks to the owl, the hole provides me with the last glimpse of sunlight for the day before setting so I can see just how much I had accomplished.

Before I can praise myself too much for all my hard work, she flies in after being gone for a few hours and I know that is my cue to leave. The woman needs her privacy, I can respect that.

I make my way back to the car and snack on some protein bars in the glove compartment that are probably older than I am but it didn’t matter. I decided to call it a night once “my head grew heavy and my sight grew dim.” Alright, I mean it this time, that was definitely the last Hotel California reference.

Since I still haven’t explored much of my surroundings to find somewhere to sleep, I just locked my car and blacked out my windows with a couple of binder clips and blankets. This makeshift bedroom is good for now, but I will eventually need to find a more permanent place to reside, preferably somewhere more private and better insulated.

I woke up bright and early the next morning to the owl sitting on the hood of the car staring at me with those pretty golden eyes of hers. I rolled out of the car and did a thousand different yoga poses in an attempt to stop every bone in my body from aching, but that’s just the price you have to pay for sleeping in a car. Too bad this owl couldn’t have led me to some fancy mansion with a king-sized bed and food that actually fills me up, but I’ll take what I can get.

I decided today is the day I finally throw full caution to the wind and paint something. This change of scenery will undoubtedly spark some inspiration for me, right?

Wrong.

I managed to put an apron on and pick up a paintbrush but absolutely nothing was coming to me. I looked around outside but not even the scenery sparked an idea. After all of this hard work getting my new little studio set up, this is pathetic that I can’t even paint one thing.

I sat there staring at this blank canvas that only got more intimidating by the minute. I picked up every single shade of every paint color I own, but still nothing.

Just as I was about to put my paintbrush down and reconsider all my life choices, the owl flew in from the hole in the roof with something in her mouth. She flies over to my table with nothing else on it but my paint palette and a cup of water and drops the item in her beak. Almost like she was handing me a gift, she nudges it closer towards me ever so slightly and I pick it up.

A bottle cap. How interesting. I drop it on the floor and she flies right back out. Minutes later, she’s right back on the table nudging yet another bottle cap at me. Then again, and again until a pile begins to form on the floor.

The caps looked like trash at first, but the more she brought me the more they started looking like pieces of art themselves. I picked up my paintbrush and started copying what was on the floor in front of me onto the canvas until they looked nearly identical.

I took a step back in disbelief at just how easily I took the idea and ran with it. I guess you could say inspiration struck me when I least expected it. I loved the way it turned out. My first piece of art in months and quite possibly my favorite and all because this owl brought me these little shiny pieces of trash.

The next few days were all the same; I’d wake up to the same glowing eyes, go to the studio and wait for her to bring me something shiny she found on the side of the road, and I would paint it. She gave me everything from metal forks to keys to paper clips and I painted every single one of them until the tiny studio became flooded which unsurprisingly didn’t take very long.

This process we had going on was working well and keeping me occupied until one day I woke up to no owl on my car hood. I waited around for her all day but she was a no show. She usually makes an appearance multiple times each day, but she was nowhere to be found. This went on for a few days before I gave up all hope that she would ever come back.

I fell into a slump and couldn’t bring myself to paint anything. She was my only source for inspiration and without her, I couldn’t come up with any ideas and I had no motivation to even step foot into my studio.

Weeks later I was sitting in my car trying to fix my sunglasses when I heard footsteps approaching. I peek out of the window and see a family of 4 that looked like the textbook definition of annoying tourists all smiling wide at me. I get out of the car to see them already have stepped foot in my studio.

“There it is sweetie, go grab it,” the mom says pointing to my pile of trinkets the owl left me on the floor, waving her young daughter to grab a necklace that had been sitting there for weeks.

‘“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that was yours,” I say as I scurry behind them to see what is going on. “How did you know it would be here?”

“Well, you see, we are on a road trip and we stopped to take a picture at every welcome sign but right before we left after taking our Arizona one, we noticed my daughter dropped her necklace by mistake. Before we could get out of the car and grab it, this owl came over and picked it up,” she explains with fascination.

“That necklace used to be my mother’s, so I stepped on the gas and was prepared to follow that owl to the ends of the earth, but he led us here instead,” the father buds in and chuckles while holding his beer gut.

“She's actually a she,” I correct him while smiling, knowing that means she is still around and didn’t completely leave me. “But yes, she sure does love her shiny items,” I say, waving my hand around the studio at my portfolio of work I’ve completed since being here.

The mom takes a look around, observing each painting closely until making her way to the one of the necklace, “You sure did make it look very nice,” she says approvingly.

“It’s all yours if you would like. I kind of owe you one for the stealing of the necklace anyway, it’s the least I could do,” I explain without thinking as this whole situation has escalated too quickly for me to keep up with.

“That is too sweet of you. How much would you like for it? 100? 200 dollars? Name the price and you got it. You have quite the talent if I do say so myself,” the dad explains while pulling out his wallet. Given that his kids were covered head to toe in name-brand clothing, he must be used to blowing lots of money at a given time.

“Oh, no, I couldn't ask you to pay me,” I say while shaking my head but he doesn’t listen and just hands me a wad of cash without even looking at how much he grabbed.

I express my gratitude as they leave with the necklace and painting before closing the door and jumping up and down with excitement. I get a hold of myself after a solid few minutes of dancing and singing to myself to see how much I made. Just as I finish counting through the 400 dollars they left me, I hear a noise from the hole in the ceiling above. The owl came back!

Who knew this little owl could have done so much for me. She led me here in the first place, managed to help me break through my artist block, and even brought buying customers right to me.

The next few days were much better. The owl was here to stay and I was producing painting after painting from the items she brought me. After spending a good amount of time pondering on how to spend the first bit of money I made completely by myself, I knew exactly what to do with it. I deserve to treat myself, after all.

I made my way to town one day and came across exactly what I wanted; a new and unbroken pair of bedazzled sunglasses. The feeling I had buying those glasses is indescribable after everything that has happened. This was the moment I knew things were looking up and that I had earned these all myself, well, with the help of the owl of course. I walked out of that store feeling like a new and improved version of my old self, not only because these sunglasses were even better than the old ones, but because this was the beginning of my new start and my road to becoming the established artist I’ve always dreamed of being.

The next stop was finding a small wooden sign, one that could fit perfectly right in front of my studio. I spent days painting it to look perfect and stand out from a mile away to ensure nobody would miss it. I stuck it into the ground after making sure it was exactly the way I wanted and the owl immediately perched on it like she did the sign right off the highway.

What started as a terrible and lengthy car ride to nowhere ended up being the best thing that could have possibly happened to me. This is a new chapter in my life and I’m going to make it count.

I stood there in front of my new life with everything I could ever want right in front of me; my own art studio, my new best friend that just so happens to be an owl, and nobody to tell me what and what not to do. This little renovated barn is “such a lovely place,” if I do say so myself. Oh, come on, you know I had to fit one more Hotel California lyric for good measure.

There stood me and the owl ready to take on the world as I brush my fingers across the sign saying, “Welcome to Golden Eyes Studio. Now open for business.”