"O How Lovely..."

I never felt that visiting Church History sites would be particularly thrilling. Nice enough, but not unusually amazing. After all, I don't need to "see" to believe the things happened there as claimed. So, it was quite a humbling surprise to feel such a mighty impact in these special places. The emotions were intense. The Spirit was not only present, but testifying. I think my favorite place was the Sacred Grove. But our time in the Palmyra Temple and the other significant sites was almost as remarkable. It was a tender thing to be in the location of the School of the Prophets, to walk "Emma's staircase" and to see some of the hiding places of the Golden Plates. I felt especially close to the amazing women of the Restoration. My testimony was strengthened. My resolve confirmed. "O what rapture filled [my] bosom!"

Two Angels

It's very satisfying to have a painting just work. I had such fun doing this one. Much about the photo was good: the matching positions of the heads, the color and detail opposites that helped focus on the child, the emotional quality. I had to pull the child's leg down from where she had tucked it behind, though. And I eliminated a bit of detail on the stone bench that I found distracting. Also, I eliminated the leaves blown about on the background grass for the same reason. All in all, I think it's successful. Since it was done as a commissioned piece for a friend living far away, it remains to be seen if she'll like it as well as I do. I would love to exhibit it before delivering it to her, but timing just isn't going to work out that way. I hope to have captured the "conversation" going on here. Don't you wonder what they're talking about?

Alta in August

We joined Shannon's family to visit a favorite alpine meadow near Alta ski resort on Thurs. Snow could still be found in a few places. But our intention was to enjoy the wildflowers. Several varieties covered the meadow and surrounding hillsides. The girls fit right in for some fun photographs. Of course I was looking for the perfect painting, too. The late afternoon light is wonderful in these places. It was a lovely time.

My Kind of Parade

I love parades, sort of. I love the floats, the excitement, the music. But parking/waiting/battling crowds and then only seeing half of anything, if you're close enough, doesn't seem like a fair exchange for the miseries that only get worse as I get older. So I was eager to join Shannon and the girls for a tour of the Days of '47 floats on display at the Expo Center for a couple days before the parade. All of them are just sitting there; one can get up close and walk around them, lingering as long as one likes. We took pictures. We enjoyed some of the extras, such as a live mermaid that thrilled the girls by posing with them for a photo. And there were balloon sculptures, face painting, and a motorized turtle kids could ride. All indoors. All free. The float with the historic buildings in model Salt Lake City was my personal favorite. But Wilford Woodruff fishing was pretty cool, as was the ship sailing along with the mermaid out front. The girls loved the color and animation (and the mermaid). So did I. It was just a treat.

Memories

I needed more space or different space to store art photos. Thus began a dip in the memory pool as I've been sorting through 40 years of school projects, report cards, Christmas pictures, baby announcements, notes, creative writings and funeral programs from friends and relatives and my own kids. I had a file folder on each of my children, and one labeled "About Friends." Then there was one called "Misc. Memories" that had newspaper clippings about me or Steve doing community things, school things, clippings of my writings in the Church News, and keepsake notes and cards from my life's story. I felt like I'd revisited a lifetime in an afternoon. It was fun to read some of Jacob's Young Author entries (that won prizes up to state levels), remember my years as the Frontier Days School Marm, sigh over all the wedding announcements (some that have since ended in divorce), and chuckle again at the collection of quotes I'd once been smart enough to write down ("Dad are you going to bang the peoples at work or the mean mans outside?"--Jeff on the new hunting rifle). I still shake my head at the string of F's on Tim's last HS report, and love watching families grow up again as pictured in Christmas cards from year to year. But the overwhelming emotion of this experience is not the nostalgic warm and fuzzy thing I expected. It's a Homesick Longing to cuddle my own little kids again. I miss their innocence, their unbridled enthusiasm and delight in each other, in simple pleasures and homey moments. I miss Tim's tender hug on a hard day. I miss Shannon's fearlessness. I miss the way Eric's glasses slid down his nose when he was totally absorbed in a book. I even miss Jacob's Museum and Jeff's math assignments. No, I don't want to go back. I shudder at the required energy and effort. But there are things I wish I'd done better, of course. And moments I can look at now and wonder if that was the turning point, the catalyst for what became a regret or a triumph. I guess it's okay to wonder as long as I don't dwell too long on it all. Nevertheless, I'm glad to have had the plunge. I came out wet with sentimental tears, but I wouldn't trade my past for anything. And, I really miss my little kids.

"Let Them Eat Cake"

This painting of a Paris bread and pastry shop is now part of "PORTALS"--my solo exhibit at Terra Nova Gallery. This is the largest and maybe most ambitious of the paintings there. So it rated a poem--and the poem is on the wall beside the painting.

"Let them eat cake!" A phrase they take
seriously in Paris. (All
can recall what did befall
The Queen.) Yet still the bakers bake

Still will the public undertake
to savor every crumb and flake.
While biscuits, baguettes, buns fall
prey, some still say, "Let them eat cake!"

In spite of Antoinette's mistake,
in spite of risking stomach-ache,
served after school or work or ball,
in summer, winter, spring or fall,
will Paris populace partake,
as She decreed, "Let them eat cake!"

Basking in Glory

I hope I'm not out of line in my enjoyment of the attention that focused on me and my art on Friday. I've been working long and hard to get ready for that exhibit. Many stresses were part of all that. But generally, the package has been very positive. I've had such fun producing the paintings. They represent very special memories. And yet the truly greatest part of this project has been the supportive response of friends and family who celebrated with me. The exhibit reception was a delightful reunion with cousins, high school friends, college roommate, and special friends from our Wyoming days. We saw lots of ward members, neighbors, and even a dear sister-in-law. All of these great people came to share in my triumph, and I must say, a triumph it was because they came to share it. It was just wonderful!