This is a Cruiser. Even a little dog can cast a big shadow. That seems somehow significant to me.
Little Dog, Big Dreams
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Monthly Archives: March 2006
Little Dog, Big Dreams
This is a Cruiser. Even a little dog can cast a big shadow. That seems somehow significant to me.
Inside the Caboose
Since I posted an exterior shot last time, I thought I’d share a couple of interior pictures of my little art gallery in a caboose.
Inside the Caboose
Since I posted an exterior shot last time, I thought I’d share a couple of interior pictures of my little art gallery in a caboose.
Gallery Opening, Night 2
The last two nights at Great Northern Gallery were an amazing experience for me. So many people came out to see my work, and it was a very humbling experience. I feel so lucky to live in Grand Marais, and to be part of such a supportive community. Of course it was validating and helpful to sell some artwork, but the thing I really love is talking about the things that inspire me, telling stories about the creative process, symbolism in my paintings and getting feedback.
Thanks to all of you who came out, and to those of you that give me so much support but live too far away to stop in. I feel very blessed.
Gallery Opening, Night 2
The last two nights at Great Northern Gallery were an amazing experience for me. So many people came out to see my work, and it was a very humbling experience. I feel so lucky to live in Grand Marais, and to be part of such a supportive community. Of course it was validating and helpful to sell some artwork, but the thing I really love is talking about the things that inspire me, telling stories about the creative process, symbolism in my paintings and getting feedback.
Thanks to all of you who came out, and to those of you that give me so much support but live too far away to stop in. I feel very blessed.
Gallery Opening, Night 1
I had a great time last night at the opening reception for my new work. Pictured above are (left) Leah Thomas, Director of the North Shore Music Association, with whom I have collaborated on many projects in the past, with many more to come, and (right) my dear friend Susan Kirkham whose blog you can read HERE. The inset photo is Holly and Madeline, two people who mean more to me than I could even write here. Tonight is another reception. Last night happened to be the annual meeting for WTIP, our local radio station, so a lot of people weren’t able to attend my opening. I’ll be hosting Monday Night Mix on WTIP on March 27, which is webstreamed. Wherever you are, you can tune in!
Gallery Opening, Night 1
I had a great time last night at the opening reception for my new work. Pictured above are (left) Leah Thomas, Director of the North Shore Music Association, with whom I have collaborated on many projects in the past, with many more to come, and (right) my dear friend Susan Kirkham whose blog you can read HERE. The inset photo is Holly and Madeline, two people who mean more to me than I could even write here. Tonight is another reception. Last night happened to be the annual meeting for WTIP, our local radio station, so a lot of people weren’t able to attend my opening. I’ll be hosting Monday Night Mix on WTIP on March 27, which is webstreamed. Wherever you are, you can tune in!
Garden
And I think of Jesus in the garden
watching over the flowers
as they grow without me there.
Jesus in the garden in morning dew.
Watching the ladybugs on the daylilies,
beetles scurrying in dirt
and the yellow candy butterflies fluttering.
Jesus in the garden in the rain.
Caring for the nightcrawlers
I hid under the monk’s hood after the fishing trip.
Seeing the straw flowers close.
. . .
I remember Jesus hovering
hugely above the newly sprouted plants.
Asking him to care for the tiny tomato plants
I may have put out too early.
Jesus, pure white like snow.
Dominating the garden.
The plants flourished.
The tender tomato plants now hang heavy with fruit
and Jesus still stands guard watching…
pitted from the rain and sun…
crumbling a bit.
And part of me wants to bring him inside
where he’ll be safe.
Does he spend himself caring for the earth?
Exposed to the same elements
that make the garden plants thrive,
does he begin to wither?
And I leave him perched on that rock
just behind the rhubarb.
Watching him watch the flowers.
Waiting to see what will happen next.
I am comforted by this Jesus.
In the garden in the rain.
In sun.
In thunder.
In night.
Not hidden away in a great cathedral, draped in ceremony,
but cavorting with ladybugs and bumblebees.
The nightcrawlers,
and such a worm as I.
Garden
And I think of Jesus in the garden
watching over the flowers
as they grow without me there.
Jesus in the garden in morning dew.
Watching the ladybugs on the daylilies,
beetles scurrying in dirt
and the yellow candy butterflies fluttering.
Jesus in the garden in the rain.
Caring for the nightcrawlers
I hid under the monk’s hood after the fishing trip.
Seeing the straw flowers close.
. . .
I remember Jesus hovering
hugely above the newly sprouted plants.
Asking him to care for the tiny tomato plants
I may have put out too early.
Jesus, pure white like snow.
Dominating the garden.
The plants flourished.
The tender tomato plants now hang heavy with fruit
and Jesus still stands guard watching…
pitted from the rain and sun…
crumbling a bit.
And part of me wants to bring him inside
where he’ll be safe.
Does he spend himself caring for the earth?
Exposed to the same elements
that make the garden plants thrive,
does he begin to wither?
And I leave him perched on that rock
just behind the rhubarb.
Watching him watch the flowers.
Waiting to see what will happen next.
I am comforted by this Jesus.
In the garden in the rain.
In sun.
In thunder.
In night.
Not hidden away in a great cathedral, draped in ceremony,
but cavorting with ladybugs and bumblebees.
The nightcrawlers,
and such a worm as I.