Here’s April’s monthly newsletter. Despite the fact that all shows and classes are cancelled there’s always something to do around the studio! More spider tomorrow!!!
Last weekend I was at the 29 Palms Art Gallery pretty much all weekend. On the Saturday we had an art fair during the day and in the evening was the reception for the Membership Show, which was a judged show.
I thought I’d try this way of reposting my Monthly Newsletter. Nope, my html isn’t good enough to get rid of the squares…..
Posting my monthly newsletter promptly seems to be a good item to have on the New Year’s Resolution list.
Tomorrow is Black Friday and I’m a retailer so I’ll be at a show in Palm Springs. Today is Thanksgiving so I wanted to find something to be thankful for:
This Thanksgiving I am thankful that:
- the rain I set up my tent in was merely heavy rain and not freezing
- that it wasn’t windy so I could put the walls up without having to put the weights on first
- that my booth is on a well drained grassy slope
- that my truck was ignored by Palm Springs finest, alongside the red curb and half in a flood, with the park anywhere lights on
- that my truck has a heater because I was soaked from my head to my hips and my feet to my thighs
- that my truck was able to navigate the floods along Ramon Road
- that there weren’t any crazy fast drivers who caused a crash on the freeway
- that I decided to go for this wet setup so I don’t have to get up at 4 am to set up tomorrow
- that I am writing this listening to the rain on my roof while a turkey cooks
A few years back I was travelling from Southern California for a show in Bellevue – right next door to Seattle. It’s a two day drive, pretty much up the entire west coast of the US. I had kinda planned on stopping just north of the Oregon border, but didn’t make firm plans as I figured I wasn’t sure if my tiredness would get me that far, or my awakeness would let me press on further. I’d actually spotted a well-priced motel in my aim area, and sure enough, just as California disappeared in the rear view mirror, the eyelids started to droop.
I pulled off the road at what appeared to be a motel-bearing town in this rural stretch of Interstate 5. Miraculously I passed the very motel I’d seen on the internet. The parking lot was only half full. It was late, though. The office only had a dim light on. I knocked on the door. In a few moments the motel clerk appeared.
In fairness to the man, he was obviously of Indian origin – India Indian, not Native American. Different culture. I asked ‘Is there room at the inn?’ ‘No,’ he replied. Oh, ok, nevermind, I thanked him and turned to leave. I’d gotten as far as the truck when he came out after me. ‘I have room at the other end!’ Huh?
Turns out he’d misheard me as ‘Is there room at the end?’ and had completely missed the Christmas reference! In his further defense, he’d only been in the US about 5 months.
Here’s another sonnet inspired by the work of my peers – Pete – another artist I know from art fairs in Southern California, creates kaliedoscopes.
They might be colored or quite plain outside;
all understate the beauty that’s within,
the most amazing starburst hid inside –
just put it to your eye and you begin
to see the fireworks bursting on your eyes,
riot of twinkles emphasized by sun
or lamp or kitchen light – always surprise
and never the same, but guaranteed, it’s fun.
Much better than taking some kind of bad drug –
and good for kids! No age limit to awe
of sparkles, vibrant dance of shapes, the tug
of gravity on confetti’s what you saw.
When stress is high and you don’t think you can cope,
sit down and pick up your kaleidoscope.