THE SHOW MUST GO ON

Less than 2 weeks to Stampede and it's all underwater! There are many artists with a lot at stake so I know there are some anxious painters out there... BUT "not to worry" say those in charge - even if the horses have to swim and the cowboys have to blow bubbles, the Stampede will go ahead. 

Looks like these Jacksons are ready for action! Make sure you come say hi. I'll also be at the Hyatt downtown Calgary July 5 - 10, 11am - 7pm.

ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN WHEN YOU'RE OUT PLEIN AIR PAINTING...

 Someone let me know that this post appeared in code the last time, so I'm re-post it. Hope you don't mind. I also noticed that the font colors were - what shall I say - doing their own thing! 

On Saturday morning I met up with two friends from our painting group. We spent the day plein air painting at the Leighton Center It was my first visit. The weather was near perfect and the company as always, most enjoyable. I did not realize there would be hundreds of people attending the annual clothesline art show. Many ambled over to where we were. 

Painting bud, Shirley - giving me some advice...

 

A MOVING MOMENT:

A lady had been standing near me for some time, watching. When I noticed, I asked whether she too was an artist. “No, I’m a writer” she said. That is not usual. Immediately interested, I wondered to myself whether she did more than just keep a journal or record her thoughts like the rest of us regular folks do. Turns out, she is a poet. I asked whether she would share one with me. She hesitated, and then moved up really close, just behind my right shoulder as if she was going to whisper something in my ear. “I can” she said, “Yes, I can…” and in the same talking voice recited a poem about Christ and the expectations of others, from before His birth to this very day. Her skillful word smith-ing carried me along without coercion or force. Under the sky that was being newly formed every moment, we stood - poet and painter, pondering together – the surrounding chatter, if there was any, silent to us. And then, without violating His transcendence or divine calling she allowed me wonder whether it might be possible that He may have had expectations of His own…  

Transfixing and provoking I tell you!

Serendipitous in every way - circumstance and content. It was exquisite, sublime, and brilliant. It's been almost a week and I’m still thinking about it. Just as a painting painted loosely and left purposely unfinished in order to engage the viewer, so this poet left her listener to complete her work, as Christ completed His – having set aside His own expectations one night.

Emotionally moved, I turned to thank her. In stead, she thanked me for asking and quietly moved off. I did not think to ask her name. All I remember - she may have been in her mid to late 50’s, long, course, brown hair, jeans - a waistcoat and strong, beautiful feet in rough sandals. I saw them when glanced down as I listened. I don’t think I would know her if she walked right by me…  

but is that not the purpose of a divinely apponted moment?

ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN WHEN YOU'RE OUT PLEIN AIR PAINTING

On Saturday morning I met up with two friends from our painting group. We spent the day plein air painting at the Leighton Center It was my first visit. The weather was near perfect and the company as always, most enjoyable. I did not realize there would be hundreds of people attending the annual clothesline art show. Many ambled over to where we were. 

Painting bud, Shirley - giving me some advice...

 

A MOVING MOMENT:

A lady had been standing near me for some time, watching. When I noticed, I asked whether she too was an artist. “No, I’m a writer” she said. That is not usual. Immediately interested, I wondered to myself whether she did more than just keep a journal or record her thoughts like the rest of us regular folks do. Turns out, she is a poet. I asked whether she would share one with me. She hesitated, and then moved up really close, just behind my right shoulder as if she was going to whisper something in my ear. “I can” she said, “Yes, I can…” and in the same talking voice recited a poem about Christ and the expectations of others, from before His birth to this very day. Her skillful word smith-ing carried me along without coercion or force. Under the sky that was being newly formed every moment, we stood - poet and painter, pondering together – the surrounding chatter, if there was any, silent to us. And then, without violating His transcendence or divine calling she allowed me wonder whether it might be possible that He may have had expectations of His own…  

Transfixing and provoking I tell you!

Serendipitous in every way - circumstance and content. It was exquisite, sublime, and brilliant. It's been almost a week and I’m still thinking about it. Just as a painting painted loosely and left purposely unfinished in order to engage the viewer, so this poet left her listener to complete her work, as Christ completed His – having set aside His own expectations one night.

Emotionally moved, I turned to thank her. In stead, she thanked me for asking and quietly moved off. I did not think to ask her name. All I remember - she may have been in her mid to late 50’s, long, course, brown hair, jeans - a waistcoat and strong, beautiful feet in rough sandals. I saw them when glanced down as I listened. I don’t think I would know her if she walked right by me…  

but is that not the purpose of a divinely apponted moment?