I was 25 or so, parked at a campground in rural Missouri. I had just moved into my new home. The van.
Earlier that evening, as I drove into the campground, I saw a camper parked in my spot. It was after office hours, so there was no one around to help. But life had been a lot about being brave lately, with being recently divorced and living the van life and all.
I approached the door of the camper.
Tap. Tap.
I waited nervously.
A haggard-looking man in his 50s opened the door. His hair was mostly white, with some pepper mixed in here and there. His face was aged, with permanent lines of discontent etched deeply into it.
"Hello, sir. Sorry to be a bother, but you're in my spot."
He just looked at me. His expression unmoving.
"Could you move your camper so I can park in my spot?" I asked.
"No."
And we just stood there a moment, looking at each other.
"Oh. Well, when do you leave?" I asked.
"Tomorrow early."
He slammed the door shut.
I didn't feel so brave now. Just stupid.
I went back to the map at the entrance to see what spots were open and not already booked for the night.
Fortunately, there was a spot open.
But it was right beside him.
My stomach hurt as I thought about sleeping in the spot next to that man. But I reviewed my options. I could go park in a random parking lot somewhere.
He was cranky. But was he dangerous?
I wasn't sure.
Lots of decisions to make on my own. That was my new thing. Deciding things. Deciding life. All by myself for the first time ever.
And I wasn't sure if it was the right decision, but I decided to park in that spot beside him.
My stomach was in knots as I tried to sleep.
I drank whiskey. Another great decision on my part. Insert eye roll.
Somewhere in that place between awake and asleep, I saw an owl.
There was a loft just over my bed where the AC unit and storage were housed. The owl was perched up there, peering over the edge and looking at me.
Haggard, like the man in the spot next to me.
All night, it didn't leave.
I pulled the covers over my head, but I knew he was still there.
This wasn't the first time I'd seen things. Maybe I have some kind of undiagnosed psychiatric disorder. Or maybe sometimes my existence overlaps a spiritual one.
I tend to believe the latter.
My night was restless. I knew the owl wasn't physically there. But I saw him. All night.
I closed my eyes tightly, only to open one a crack and see him there, looking around the van and checking that I was still in my bed.
Finally, true sleep did come.
I dreamt all night of the owl.
I was awakened by the sound of a vehicle starting and driving off. Disoriented and drowsy, I stumbled out of bed and peered out the window.
A truck was pulling out of the spot beside me with the camper on its hitch.
The tightness in my chest released, and air filled my lungs.
The owl was gone.
I went back to sleep, and he wasn't in my dreams either.
Later, I called my aunt Caroline, who interprets dreams and visions. She told me owls can represent wisdom. But they can also represent a warning.
I think that owl was watching over me because I was in danger.
I recently sold that van. Just a couple of weeks ago. I'm 31 now. We had a good run.
As I reflected on all the memories I made in that van, this one kept coming back to me.
The bear is my spirit animal. But I also think owls are connected to me in some way.
I wanted to paint an owl in a surreal environment. My style is abstract realism, and somehow that feels fitting.
My life often feels abstract. Like the way my reality seems to overlap a spiritual one throughout my life.
I'm much braver now than I was then. I think I'm finally a grown-up.
I hope I don't encounter dangerous situations, of course. Especially as a mother of two now.
But I do think there are things beyond our current reality that don't need to be explained.
Maybe there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for what I saw that night.
Or maybe I was just a girl being looked after in one of the harder moments of her life.
I'd love to hear from you. Have you ever experienced something you couldn't quite explain? Something that made you wonder if there was more to this world than what we can see?
This painting is called Visions. It's 48×24 inches, and it's available to collect. You can see more photos and details through the link below.
Thank you for being here and letting me share these pieces of my life with you.
As always, thanks for being here and thanks for being you.
—Alice
