It was snowing.
As we headed out of town we were all brimming with the over-excitement of weekend Christmas celebration when I realized there was a tiny maintenance light illuminated on my dashboard. I, knowing next to nothing about cars except how to drive them, fumbled for my phone in a panic.
"The ESC light! It's on! Something is definitely wrong!" I was frantic. I was sure we'd break down in the middle of the snow-covered isolated Ohio country, be late for our Christmas bash, be forced to tow my car to a repair shop where I would have to spend all of my Christmas gift money on mechanic-lingo I couldn't decipher. Panic and confusion dominated and surely Christmas would be ruined too.
"Turn it off, Rache," is what my savior cousin car-guru dictated to me over the phone. "If the ESC light is on, just turn it off." I was dumbfounded. That was the answer to my current state of demise? Pushing a button? Sure enough, my leg had slipped and pushed something called an "ESC button," which consequently turned on the ESC light on the dashboard.
I pushed it. The light went off. Problem solved. Panic disolved. Peace restored.
I often wish something like this existed for real-life struggles. I am slowly learning to believe it does...
p.s. This post's photos were born of one of my incessant topics of thought, which I believe has been summed up by another designer in the phrase "The Lost Art of Hand Lettering". This is the skeletal structure. Final version yet to come...
