For an artist, there's nothing like painting from life. With that being said, I packed up my oil supplies, threw them in the trunk of the car, and drove down to Mission Bay hoping to capture a scene. I got down there and found it incredibly windy. With the easel folded out and large canvas secured, it resembles a windsail. Not good. I opted for another location. Ah, I'll go to one of my favorite places in the city, Balboa Park, I decided. I drifted south on the highway, rounded the corner onto Park, and saw three mounted policemen stationed on the bluff. Upon approaching the entrance, I discovered that there was a huge protest taking place. With my plans being thwarted a second time, one due to nature and the second political, I returned home, my canvas blank.