River Boy
In the summer of 2019, my best friend and I road tripped from Lake Ozark, Missouri to Los Angeles, California. We stopped to experience a selection of marvels along the way, most of them being dry, solitary deserts. Beautiful, but dry. We took a week to drive this, and by the end, we were terribly desiccated. Our lips were chapped, noses occasionally bleeding, but most of all, we were thirsting for social interaction. Already, we had forgotten what it was like to talk to people. We were both convinced that we had made the other person up and were actually alone out there.
We planned our last stop to be Death Valley, one of the driest parts of the United States, and the thought of hiking around with gallons of water that could never satisfy was less than appealing, so we decided to stop in Kernville, California instead. I had an acquaintance that worked in the whitewater scene there that could possibly solve all of our problems.
My acquaintance rose to the occasion like we hoped he would (we actually had no idea, I hardly knew him at the time and the communication was happening via instagram messages) and offered to take us tandem kayaking. We were elated. My friend had little experience with whitewater, so we were curious who would be paddling in the other boat. When we arrived, we learned 1) my acquaintance injured himself thirty minutes prior and wouldn’t be able to accompany us 2) the other person paddling was my one and only ex-boyfriend that happened to work there also?
My acquaintance found a replacement in the form of a very attractive, less than enthusiastic kayaking River Boy. He somehow got roped in. My friend and I both OBVIOUSLY wanted this new River Boy in our boat and DEFINITELY didn’t want my ex-boy, but the rules were that the first one in the boat gets the boat. My friend had never worn that kind of gear before so I knew it would take her a while to get dressed; I left her to rot. I knew it was evil, but I’d do it again.
I fell in love with this River Boy immediately and so it remains. This painting shows him navigating his kayak in the vast and wide Kern River. It’s swirling and confusing and beautiful and big. It makes me feel happy for him, but also worried. It makes me feel nostalgic for Kernville and summertime. It makes me want to have cold, refreshing water splash my face. It makes me grateful for human connection and inspired by nature’s wonder.
