Archive for the ‘Friends’ Category
Tuesday, June 19th, 2012
“One man live. Another man die. One woman laugh and the other one cry.”
—Danny Darst, Lady Luck
Back in the depths of our winter mourning, when I would see people talking and laughing with delight, it seemed out of character with the tone of existence, even though I knew at the same time that it was only natural for every imaginable emotion to be continuously bubbling through the current of humanity. But didn’t I live next to a funeral home? Didn’t I know that death was a constant—running abreast of every joy I experienced on any given day?
That same contrast of feeling is with me again, to some extent, because my best buddy’s sister was in a terrible car wreck. As I write this, she holds on to life despite massive brain trauma… and this is a family that lost their patriarch only eight months ago. I know what it’s like to be plunged into the icy waters of such a vigil, and yet here I am enjoying the heck out myself this summer, basking in the glow of the marvelous Johnson wedding and the best of the Great American Brass Band Festivals to date. Mombo is doing better than anyone could have expected a few short months ago, working her way toward a full mile on the treadmill, in the face of a prognosis what would have broken the spirit of many, and yet my Clan has come together to forge an even stronger bond, proving to me once again that the unfailing light of family love is the most powerful force I have yet to encounter in this life of 60 years. Here I am, enjoying the simple pleasures of each unfolding day. I make art, watch silly TV shows, play with my pup, trade stocks, grow tomatoes, read books, and ride my bicycle like I’m still a kid… and there he is, my soul mate since 1970, wounded to the core and wondering what God holds in store for the next hour, day, week… wondering how he will be forever shaped in some as yet undiscovered way. Two connected but parallel worlds.
As I heard Dana say to another recently, “There is something sad going on in every family.” The inverse must be true as well. I remember realizing that there must be happy things occurring in my family at the same time I was selecting my son’s gravesite, but one hesitates to share such things with relatives in the grip of anguish. In this age of social networks, I’m always struck by the odd juxtapositions of delight and grief, but, of course, life has never been otherwise. However, with age, it’s just a bit more difficult to mentally insulate one’s personal world, in contrast to the manner of my youth. And so I try to let my periodic melancholy be informed by the presence of exuberance, and to allow my occasional bliss to be peppered by the knowledge of sorrow.
It seems to me that all the emotions of life are fully present in our extended circle of experience, but are fleeting, elusive stuff at the private, individual level. I wonder if the impermanence of happiness is at the root of most addictions, many of which go beyond the typical vices and substances—patterns such as gossip, broadcast news watching, pack-ratting, procrastination, argumentation, anger, and all manner of risky and abusive behaviors (yes, that includes extreme exercise, too). In place of natural serenity, we get hooked on habit-triggered adrenaline and brain chemicals that have little to do with what we should know provides the only enduring satisfaction—service to life and oneness with creation. Sensual pleasure and physical comfort have their proper place, but as a focus of life soon become an empty shell or bottomless well.
It is said that change is the only permanent state. Perhaps, but where does change originate? My only answer is: The One Creative Source—the only truly permanent thing. As we come to accept the inevitable—that life in this dimension is characterized most of all by impermanence—then we eventually learn to understand the flow of suffering and sweetness, to look for meaning in the essentials, to appreciate real friends, to value the unity of family, and to age with dignity.
Posted in Art, Dana, Death, Exercise, Family, Friends, Gardening, Mombo, Pets, Psychology, Television, Words | No Comments »
Monday, May 7th, 2012
Kathleen and I inaugurated our two-person discussion group this afternoon. The first thing I noticed was how tranquil a space she has created as a “shrine” for her artistic dedication. One can truly listen to the heart in such a studio, and I appreciate her willingness to share it for a couple hours. For me the sense of place at Sunwise Farm is inseparable from Kathleen’s mixed media collage. The fullness of her artwork is about energy, and this energy—with the powerful intention it carries—is tied in some significant way to a field of Light that is carefully nurtured for optimum receptivity and intuition. I have long admired the way in which she maintains the uplifting focus of her art, an essence that is recognizable at fifty paces, and how her respect for the process is embodied in her bright, organized, efficient studio. What an inspiration for someone who seems caught in a perpetual struggle to concentrate, prioritize, and decisively press forward with a more streamlined vision.
Book of Light, page 171 by Kathleen O’Brien
www.kathleen-obrien.com
Posted in Art, Awe, Creativity, Friends, Gratitude, Priorities, Studio | No Comments »
Wednesday, April 11th, 2012
This is the image I’m connecting with today. A picture of the beauty to whom I proposed. After the British rifle match, I collapsed and missed Easter, battling a virus in near delirium. I managed to recover enough to be rather functional by today, in order to help Dana observe her important milestone. She initially wanted to attend the Keeneland races, but changed her mind when the day never warmed up. “Birthday weather” did not arrive. We almost went to see The Descendants until we realized it was at the top of our Netflix queue. So we joined David and Lee for a nice Italian dinner in Lexington. Now I’ll be in “my 50s” for 18 more days and we’ll pretend as if there are two decades between us.
Posted in Birthdays, Dana, Firearms, Food, Friends, Holidays, Movies, Time | No Comments »
Sunday, March 11th, 2012
“I could see no reason why used tram tickets, bits of driftwood, buttons, and old junk from attics and rubbish heaps should not serve well as materials for paintings; they suited the purpose just as well as factory-made paints.”
—Kurt Schwitters
The matrix is abandoned. Is it March or not? Dana and I traveled to Louisville to see a group collage exhibition at Hard Scuffle Gallery. One of the most satisfying opening receptions I have ever attended. Caitlan and Kyle walked over to join us, and we presented our congratulations gift to him—the unusual ceramic cast by Igor. Bob and Meg attended and wanted to have dinner with us. My intention was to make it back to the farm for Mission: Madness, but the schedule went to pieces. I really hated to stand up my Pal-zee. It was a joy to re-connect with these friends. We are all at the age when it becomes a challenge to maintain the continuity of our self-employment and stability, but each of us does our part to navigate the waters with purpose and a semblance of dignity. Schwitters was the great example of always moving on to the next thing in the face of adversity, yet preserving a dedication to his unifying artistic vision. Would he disdain my current fixation on his “style?” Most likely. But an artist must absorb all one can from influences, modify one’s own creative code in the process, and venture on toward greater individuality. Bert Cooper said, “Get on with it!”
To Pay Paul
Posted in Angst, Art, Caitlan, Dana, Friends, Joan, Personalities, Television | Comments Closed
Friday, March 2nd, 2012
“Then the gates of hell opened up.”
—an unidentified Indiana dispatcher
“It was beautiful. And now it’s just gone. I mean, gone.”
—Andy Bell, Henryville
A huge battery of storm cells on a forced march across the Midwest left decimation and loss of life behind it in Kentucky. I felt uneasy leaving home to play cards with friends, especially after an exhausting push to complete another presentation for the music CD graphics. Archibald Whitman scoffed, “Look at your hands.”
Maelstrom
Posted in Angst, Friends, Nature, Studio, Television | Comments Closed
Sunday, November 27th, 2011
Out of the blue — a rare eagle-eye view!
Recently I had the great fortune to enjoy a flight in a small plane with a pilot who is a fellow bicyclist. Earlier in the summer he mentioned that I should go up with him, but I forgot about it until I received his invitation by email. I was excited to join him, and I was prepared to share whatever he wanted to do. Unexpectedly, as soon as we departed the airport vicinity above Junction City, he asked me what I wanted to see. And so I happily guided him to a destination in the Casey County knobs — for any red-blooded member of the Dixon Clan, it was unquestionably the “place to go.”
This is the part of the story where clearly I should provide some kind of apt description of just how magnificent that experience proved to be. Instead, I hope that a few pictures will capture the perspective better than anything I might write. I hadn’t been in a position to do any aerial photography for at least 15 years or more. At that time, I had borrowed superior camera equipment and was in an aircraft which enabled me to hang out an open window with Dana clutching my belt. Because I was on the clock for a client that day, the idea of heading toward Blue Bank Road wasn’t in the cards. This time around, I only had our inadequate digital, and the plane windows were picking up a lot of glare, so I did my best to grab some decent angles in the time available, falling short of the desired “full coverage.”
There was also a significant degree of turbulence that morning, and when my friend offered me the controls, I declined, believing that the constant bumpiness would deprive me of any true “feel” for whatever modest adjustments I would be brave enough to make. Nevertheless, one can’t ascend in a small craft without being gripped by the wonder of flight. We were soaring with the land, just as pioneering aviators had done. As we circled through Marion County, past Forkland and into the Boyle County I had crisscrossed on a bike for nearly 20 years, my “sense of place” shifted abruptly from a ground-based familiarity to an eagle-eye awareness. I was struck with the thought of my father leaving behind his life as a pilot, giving up flying after he had known these same awesome perceptions far more profoundly than me. Why? Was it the unpleasant “baggage” from too many wartime hours in the air? Was it the power of youth’s love for field, river bottom, and the woodland creatures of a surface world? Or was it something else entirely?
For John Edward, there must surely have been times during that first decade after the Pacific tour when he faced an opportunity to reclaim the sky. A different vision must have taken hold not long after he came home—a vision of family and fatherhood that had no meaningful role for skills he had learned, taught, and then relied upon to survive a hazardous duty. Perhaps he had read Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, the famous French writer and pioneer of flight who was lost over the Mediterranean in 1944. Of Saint-Exupéry, David McCullough says it best for me:
Central to all he wrote was the theme of responsibility. In The Little Prince, it is the fox, finally, that tells the Little Prince what really matters in life, by reminding him of the flower, the single rose, he had cared for at home… “Men have forgotten this truth,” says the fox. “But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose.” Writing of his friend Guillaumet, an intrepid mail pilot, in Wind, Sand and Stars, Saint-Exupéry said that moral greatness derives more from a sense of responsibility than from courage or honesty. “To be a man is, precisely, to be responsible.”
Responsibility. Any of us would be challenged to find another word that better fit the man we knew as Grandy-bo, Dadbo, Eddie … that handsome young man of the open sky who would return to earth and become the founder of our Clan.
Aerials taken on Sunday morning, November 6, 2011.
Click photos to enlarge.
This is Clan Valley — the place to go . . .
The heartland of our Clan, the vision of a man . . .
The Blue Bank Farm and family cemetery . . .
The “Heartyard” and home to our Clan mother . . .
The Realm of Greystone includes Knob End . . .
The former Cabinhood recently changed hands . . .
The Shire — newest addition to Clan holdings . . .
Posted in Dadbo, Family, Friends, History, Nonfiction, Personalities, Priorities, Words | No Comments »
Saturday, October 15th, 2011
†
Stewart Menke
1 9 2 8 – 2 0 1 1
The father of
a fine family.
R I P
Posted in Death, Friends | Comments Closed
Thursday, October 13th, 2011
Selective Memory
by John Andrew Dixon
mixed media collage on panel, 20 x 16 inches
created in August/September 2011, Danville
I’m pleased that a collage was chosen to be part of the second in a series of landscape exhibitions at the Community Arts Center. Although I continue to use found material as standard ingredients, the piece marks a departure from the direction of previous work. Inspired by the plein air activity of my friends (Dorothee, Marianna, Donna, and Mike), Selective Memory and Day Fulfilled (not selected) were created specifically for the opportunity and I pushed my technique toward an effect that fused both representational and abstract qualities. Framing the composition within a cosmic surrounding occurred to me as I thought about how to the best present the result. Dana, Mombo, and Joan came to the reception tonight. I was baffled by which inclusions were awarded cash, but the number of friends who expressed approval with my selection made me happy. The closest thing to this that I’ve done previously may have been 1525 Redwood, the house portrait created for Flo and Bill. I want to investigate this approach further with more landscapes (perhaps another real location) and with a still life, too.
Posted in Art, Dana, Family, Friends, Gratitude, Joan, Mombo | No Comments »
Tuesday, August 30th, 2011
My bicycling season got off to a late start this year, as poor weather and a dismal personal outlook conspired to bust me permanently down to the casual riders. It was necessary to shed twelve pounds between April and July to earn a respectable place among the B-group cyclists, and tonight I was energetic enough to take the lead at will. I must never give up, even though it doesn’t get any easier each year. The big Six-Oh is coming around the corner, and I intend to knock Old Man Time on his hind end.
Posted in Birthdays, Exercise, Friends, Time | Comments Closed
Wednesday, June 29th, 2011
The clarity of tonight’s pre-gloaming was exceptional for this time of year. A view from our bicycles at the high point of Quirk’s Run captured the better part of Boyle County in stunning detail. A companion rider described it as “crystalline.” Someone gunning with a camera in Central Kentucky undoubtedly shot the best landscape of 2011 so far.
Posted in Exercise, Friends, Nature | No Comments »
Tuesday, March 22nd, 2011
One of the highlights of each year has become my participation in the traditional British Single-Shot Sporting Rifle Match held at Simpson Range. In the busy lead-up to this annual event, I clearly lost interest in a daily log entry for the March Exercise, so now I’ll just focus on applying for the rest of the month my regimen for self discovery, putting aside the blogging ritual. The combination of friendship, hospitality, competition, precision activity, history, fine food, and the joy of life make for a unique weekend that holds a place in my heart to rival September in the Les Cheneaux and our quarterly Clan gatherings. I am a privileged man to have gained access to touchstones of authenticity such as these. John O’Donohue said that “the duty of privilege is absolute integrity.” There’s my food for today’s thought.
Posted in Blogging, Firearms, Food, Friends, Gratitude, History, Personalities, Sport, Words | No Comments »
Wednesday, March 16th, 2011
March Exercise —day sixteen— I got a project back on the rails and completed today after an unforeseen production delay, and the client was pleased enough to use an exclamation point in his email—a first. Hey, I’ll take whatever small bits of encouragement I can scrounge, because “it ain’t getting any easier out here.” Conditions were still chilly when I trekked over to campus for my laps, but when I headed back home, the cloud cover was breaking up and the air was calm and noticeably milder. The weatherman is hanging his hat on Spring-like conditions this weekend, and they can’t arrive any time too soon. I noticed that the Japanese-style magnolias were fully budded and ready to “bust out.” I thought of my friend from Japan, Yu, my former endurance-running partner, who loved to see those tulips bloom overhead each cycle. I lost touch with him a few years after he returned home, and now I wonder how he and his family are doing in the midst of the crisis. It seems everyone has some friends or family on those islands. The events so far are bad enough, so we can only pray that the worst is over. If not, we are about to witness one of the most disastrous outcomes we shall ever remember.
Today’s sight bite— Tulip tree blossoms, eager to unfold —c-l-i-c-k— as soon as conditions say, “Open. Open.”
Tomorrow— Hold onto your breath, hold onto your heart, hold onto your hope . . .
Posted in Exercise, Friends, Nature | Comments Closed
Sunday, March 13th, 2011
March Exercise —day thirteen— It turned out to be a rough day for both of us, but especially for Dana. It had little to do with externals. It was just one of those days that keep rising to the surface in a long process of managing grief. We spent the bulk of our time at David and Lee’s cabin, helping them prepare for the rifle competition next Saturday. Dana and Lee worked on separate tasks. David and I took on a big two-man job and also fit in a little practice on the range. We left in time to get to Blue Bank for what was to be the first Mission: Madness, a ritualized screening of the entire seven-year run of Mission: Impossible. Because of my scheduling error, we arrived at an “empty” valley. Seeing the grave site, untouched since January, was enough to induce a fresh wave of sadness. We were unable to cope by plunging into the distraction of our planned episode-viewing shindig. The evening wound down from there, although I was able to complete my driveway hedge clipping and commence the spring pruning of the front-yard bushes. Even if I go about my own business, I believe we can still sense one another’s emotion. We ended up streaming an enjoyable movie, but, to be honest, we don’t really salvage these occurrences. We just ride them out and set our sights on the following day.
Today’s sight bite— Small steel targets in sun-dappled woodlands, —c-l-i-c-k— surprisingly crisp to the eye above my familiar sites.
Tomorrow— Back to the studio grind . . .
Posted in Dana, Death, Family, Firearms, Friends, Movies, Television | Comments Closed
Saturday, March 12th, 2011
March Exercise —day twelve— Thematically, the best motion pictures often can be summed up in one word: Determination. Togetherness. Manipulation. Fortitude. Delusion. And, with the film that took the Oscar— Friendship. At least, that’s what I took away from The King’s Speech last night. Both men, in entirely different ways, put everything on the line in loyalty to their deepening friendship. Is it the highest form of love? I don’t know. Perhaps. There can be true love without friendship, but never true friendship without love. For some reason, it calls to mind the story of the split that took place between my Dad and a man that was his neighbor when I was a child. When we moved away and my Dad’s life became even more complicated, this man gave him an ultimatum. He’d had enough of making the trip to visit my Dad if the effort was not reciprocated. An impasse. My Dad was raising seven kids that he expected to be college bound. He was married. He was fighting the Cold War at work. His friend was retired, divorced, with a grown daughter. Nobody knows the actual words exchanged, but it resulted in my Dad’s decision. Something like, “If that’s the way you feel, then don’t come back.” He never did. I’ve always seen it as a clash of incompatible viewpoints. “If you were a true friend, you would make time for me. You would want to be fair, and to preserve the bond we have.” “If you were a true friend, you would appreciate my life and not make demands. You would not keep score.” Naturally, I saw it Dadbo’s way. He had other friends who went the extra mile. In turn, he was generous and loyal to them until each went to his grave. For me, the two most fascinating questions in the human condition: What is unconditional love? What is true friendship?
Today’s sight bite— The huge crow, sitting on the street lamp bulb —c-l-i-c-k— and scolding me with his imperious “Haw! Haw!”
Tomorrow— Rifle match preparation, topped off with pure escapism . . .
Posted in Dadbo, Family, Friends, Movies | Comments Closed
Monday, March 7th, 2011
March Exercise —day seven— During the worst of our deep sadness, as I stepped back from a chasm of self-pity, I reached out to my brother, James. He listened, assessed, and loaned me a copy of a tiny book with an odd title: Who Moved My Cheese? The message is simple, but not simplistic, and its thought-provoking theme makes me think more about the true nature of change in our lives. It takes me back to a time when radical change was the norm, and I considered it my friend. One of my greatest blessings is knowing my brothers have my back, and no one has it more than my first best friend. I like what his daughter Rita said about him not that long ago: “The thing I admire most in anyone is my dad’s ability to weigh any situation and give the most level headed advice and explanations in an inspirational way—whether we are talking running, work, school, life, family, friendships—even love!”
Today’s sight bite— Pink-gold striations stacked on a slate-cold horizon —c-l-i-c-k— with Abe’s immortal address cast below as silver letterforms against a field of black.
Tomorrow— Find the cadence and crank harder . . .
Posted in Family, Friends, Gratitude, James, Time, Words | Comments Closed
Friday, March 4th, 2011
March Exercise —day four— Dana and I spent the evening with two of the couples who had shown us the most compassion during our winter of sorrow. Actually, there are a surprising number of these kind people, and they’ve helped make the unthinkable bearable. I’ve always been a bit uncomfortable with these types of dinner events, and didn’t know what to expect tonight. It turned out to be an unusual combination of in-depth personal discussion and mindless game-table recreation. We left with a few more discretionary dollars than we brought, and, more importantly, with the satisfying knowledge that our friends are sincerely interested in the process that will put our grief behind us.
Today’s sight bite— The stuttering dance of dice on a thick glass table top —c-l-i-c-k— like a drop of water in a skillet of hot oil.
Tomorrow— A matter of decisive internal orchestration . . .
Posted in Dana, Friends, Gratitude, Playtime | Comments Closed
Sunday, February 7th, 2010
There have been years in the past when I couldn’t have told you the teams competing in the Super Bowl, even if the fate of my eternal soul had depended on it. Fast forward to today, when I awaited the big game with immense anticipation. What changed? First of all, I spent enough time with a great football-watching friend to understand that NFL players are the most amazing athletes in the world. 
And then, when Bruce was gravely ill and we spent a good portion of a year hanging out around Indianapolis, I began to favor the Colts. The clincher took place last year, when I worked professionally with local star Jacob T, a second-year back-up tight end and special team starter for the team, following his brilliant career at the University of Kentucky. After that I was hooked on Indy, deriving much pleasure from watching their “almost-perfect” season and playoff success. Nevertheless, despite my desire to see Jacob be part of a Super Bowl victory, I’m not sad that the Colts fell short against the Saints tonight, because my heart is with Kristi and the Hornsby family as they enjoy a wonderful celebration in New Orleans.
Posted in Family, Friends, Personalities, Saints, Sport | No Comments »
Friday, January 8th, 2010
This is the last image I created in a partially successful effort to provide “cartoons to the editor,” in partnership with my pal, Rick. It’s from 2003, when several improbable events converged: Kentucky elected the first Republican governor in a generation, Saddam was captured in Iraq, Boyle County and Danville football teams concurrently won state championships for the third time, and local voters passed a liquor-by-the-drink ballot measure. The cartoon was rejected for unknown reasons. In retrospect, it does seen to violate one of the basic rules of editorial drawing— focus on a single, easy-to-grasp idea. Oh well, I still like that style, but it was too much work to continue for free.
Posted in Art, Creativity, Current Events, Friends, Personalities, Political Affairs, Sport | Comments Closed
Saturday, December 26th, 2009
“To be politically correct, I can say
that I’m scoping out the Norwegians
when I get on a plane, but face it,
if there’s a shaky Muslim cat near me,
I’m going to be keeping my eye on him.”
—Dennis Miller
News of a thwarted terrorist act has popped the bubble of holiday euphoria, and yet, to maintain a festive mood is remarkably easy for those of us who weren’t called upon to celebrate Christmas by clambering over an airline seat to subdue a suicidal fanatic.
Yesterday morning found us at Terie and Marty’s for Christmas brunch gift giving. After arriving home we had some private time (I got a new bicycle helmet from Santa), before relaxing with afternoon victuals, enjoying the company of our dear friends, David and Lee, and a sensational Sonoma County Zinfandel from Dana’s brother Bill. A trip to Lexington followed, where we watched the new Eastwood picture and shared our evening at The Pub. Not surprisingly, “Invictus” pushed my buttons, but the editorial pacing of the World Cup championship match fell a bit short of my expectations. In any case, Freeman’s portrayal of Mandela was outstanding, and it’s my understanding that he has wanted to play the character for many years, having brought the adaptation to Clint while developing the property himself.
Today is Boxing Day, so it’s off to Kelley Ridge for more conviviality. Things just keep getting better during this splendid countdown to a landmark New Year’s Eve wedding in Louisville!
Posted in Current Events, Dana, Family, Food, Friends, Holidays, Marty, Movies, Personalities, Sport, Terie, Wine | No Comments »
Saturday, November 7th, 2009
I’ve come to the end of a outstanding week that began last Friday when I headed to Monterey for my fifth workshop with Wesley Bates. I didn’t pitch a tent this year, but had the familiar loft at Larkspur Press to myself each night. The opportunity to concentrate on wood engraving for three days in that extraordinary environment made sleeping on a wood floor seem like the ultimate in accommodations. I continue to learn more about the art form with every retreat, and I now face the breakthrough act of finally acquiring my own set of customized tools, so I can maintain a year-round practice to replace my once-a-year introductory learning curve. On Saturday night, Wes, Juanita, Leslie, and I drove over to Hanna’s “house concert” by Kraig Kenning, at the home Prajna Design created for her (builder Garry Murphy was there, and I chatted with him). I’m prepared to say that Kenning is the best steel guitar performer that I’ve heard live (and I once watched David Lindley tape a Soundstage concert with Jackson Browne in Chicago). An enjoyable nightcap with Wes extended deep into the night as both of us discovered that we have even more in common as creative professionals. It was nice this time around to balance social enjoyment with lots of one-on-one time with Wes.
The subject of my block was a pair of handsome mules that worked the Realm of Greystone when James brought in low-tech loggers after the ice storm of 1994. I managed to get some decent slides while they were in the Valley—undoubtedly the last high-level transparencies I may ever take. It wasn’t a bad note on which to end my slide-shooting era. I’ve always wanted to begin exploiting those images for my art, and so I selected a shot of two mules with the tobacco barn in the background (a suitable tribute to the recently fallen landmark). My goal was to chose a style that would enable me to complete the block and print it within the weekend constraint, and that meant consulting with Wes about how to use an approach that didn’t rely on time-intensive technique (the path I found myself on last year, resulting in a missed deadline). I may not ultimately like “Logger’s Team” as much as my 2008 print, but I learned much about the medium, with a big step closer to understanding the elegantly minimal line quality that Bates has truly mastered.
Last night I headed north again with Dana and Joan for Richard’s First Friday event in Old Frankfort. Wesley’s wife, Juanita Wilkins, performed and Richard read poems from his new volume about Abraham Lincoln (commissioned for the bicentennial observation). Everything about the evening was splendid, and there was a magical moment when the unknown “Harmonica Man” appeared from nowhere with his “harp belt” to jam with Juanita. I’ve been so fortunate to hear her a number of times now, and she never sounded better to me than last night; nor had she conversed with her audience so impressively or in such a personally revealing way. Absolutely wonderful…
Posted in Art, Craftsmanship, Dana, Education, Friends, Joan, Music, Personalities, Verse | No Comments »
Friday, October 30th, 2009
“The chief cause of stress is reality.”
~ Lily Tomlin
It’s hard to accept that nearly three weeks have flown by since Dana and I were traveling to North Carolina, bearing the brunt of a devastating tempest that left 35 homes “unlivable” in Casey County (based on information I learned through the Salvation Army). Since that stormy day I had two wonderful weekends with family at both Broadwing and Blue Bank Farms. Carol and Bob are as youthful as ever and at the pinnacle of insight. Shame on me for taking five years to make a return visit. I was delighted to see how they had displayed my drawing of the old barn, and Pete showed off my pen and ink sketch of the Vulcan stove from their early years above the French Broad. I couldn’t help but contemplate the decline in my sketchbook activity over the past year. During my two days at the Hall, I made an attempt to complete work on the rock flue, but ran into mortar problems again while battling Panyon’s tool thievery. My “Son of Dirk Man” character was a bit of a flop, compared to Jay’s Pappy, Mombo’s Rufus, and Clay’s Donkey Kong. Nevertheless, the day was noteworthy for the revival of our Clan Hayride—a “harvest jamboree,” as Joan called it—and also for her tip about Pandora.com. The Council voted to commission an illustrated map of Clan Valley. Wow, how do I come up with an estimate for that? (Lord, help me finish it quicker than my stone masonry!) Dana called me from town to break the news that our friend Irina had been discovered lifeless, the apparent victim of a heart attack. She was a year younger than me! It took four or five days for me to grasp the finality of losing her awesome talent. Early Sunday morning I decided to tote my Hawken-style 50-caliber down the Valley in search of venison. The ache of a gifted comrade’s passing was on my heart when treetops dipped to let the sun pour its precious gold into our beloved hollow. The goal of hunting for meat dissolved abruptly to a deep reverence for the beauty of our rural legacy and my gratitude for life. When I got up to move farther along the road, something caught the corner of my eye. Four good sized does were now moving purposefully across the hay field. Before I could swing my muzzleloader into play, all were into the wooded drainage. If I’d only lingered a minute more, I probably could have had my pick. The following days were tainted with sorrow, but the request to create Irina’s memorial keepsake helped me channel my emotion, although, sadly, the local printer once again seized the opportunity to complain about our predicable attention to detail. By week’s end, the fabulous distraction of sharing Rick H’s 50th birthday celebration was trumped by the news of Glenda’s bizarre mishap at the Haunted House, which resulted in her breaking four back bones. And this comes on top of her and Jay dealing with the aftermath of burst plumbing and extensive damage to their newly remodeled home. The Graybeard Prospector had the second of two successful networking sessions in Lancaster, and Sunday Silence at Simpson Knob was another welcome break, but the heightened oscillation of desirable and undesirable happenings is becoming too strange. All I want to do is immerse myself in the upcoming wood engraving workshop at Larkspur and try to take myself back to a point of quiet equilibrium. Well then, load the truck and go!
Posted in Angst, Art, Awe, Business, Dana, Death, Family, Firearms, Friends, Gratitude, Hunting, Jay, Joan, Mombo, Music, Nature, Personalities, Pets | No Comments »
