Life does not always cooperate. Just when you are cruisin' along with the wind in your Nostradamus, (or as Bob Wylie says, "with the wind and the wind and the waves and everything...) and out of nowhere someone shoves a broom handle into the spokes of your bicycle wheel-GOINK!
When I was a boy I loved nothing more than to pedal my bike as fast as I could go, then slam on the foot brake and lay some rubber sk-sk-skidding sideways with a flourish. One time I planned to do just that on smooth cement in the pergola at Burbank Elementary School, my Alma Mater. Did you know that Alma Mater means "bounteous mother"? Anyhoo, the plan was to stop before I hit the chain link fence. I pedaled my ultra fastest and when I got to the slam-on-the foot-brake part, I missed the pedal altogether. So I hit the fence at sixty miles an hour. Give or take. You know how the mercury Terminator robot oozed through the bars at the mental hospital. That is what I did.
Sometimes the only way I can cope with chaos is to play with it in paint. Or words.