Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Merry Christmas!

Winter's Horse ©2010
To all of you on the internet, I want to extend my warmest wishes for your new year! I also want to share with you all my favorite Christmas hymn. This is my favorite time of the year. It is a time to reflect on the miracle of Almighty God coming to speak with us on our level as men.

Merry Christmas everyone!!
O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan's tyranny
From depths of Hell Thy people save
And give them victory o'er the grave
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, O come, Thou Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai's height,
In ancient times did'st give the Law,
In cloud, and majesty and awe.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

What's up with the exhibit?

Lions ©2010

This is Somethin' Ya See Every Day
For years my brother and I joked about various road signs along the way to so many adventures. Some were fairly easy. For example "Right Lane Must Turn Right" obviously meant there would be terrible trouble for you and your passengers if you continued down the road without turning. Others were a bit more obscure. I remember at the time there was a supply shop by the name of "Dennis Supply" on 1st street in Casper. We mused about girls dropping by that particular shop to pick up their very own Dennis. For about a year I pulled together nearly 100 images hoping to illustrate that very question. Then in 2010 I had a solo exhibition in Casper, WY at the ever popular Metro Coffee Company. It was there that a collection of about 30 images begged the question, "what if road signs have more than one meaning?"

I admit, the best part of the exhibit for me was grabbing a cup of coffee and watching people as they looked through the images. I would be delighted when someone would burst out into laughter, because then the exhibit had served its purpose. But then, almost always this would happen. After the laugh came the deep breath and a return to sobriety. After all, we have been taught in all of our art classes from the time we are very small that art is most certainly never a laughing matter! When strait faces with piercing gazes continued silently through the exhibit focused maturely on the grim task ahead, I felt like something so wonderful was lost. Have we become so trained in appreciating art that we no longer appreciate art?

If you are in Longmont and have time to stop by the hospital, you will see six images from Somethin' Ya See Every Day. If you want to see more just stop by blurb:

One more thing, I appreciate this guy:

Thursday, December 4, 2014


Sunday morning found me once again in front of my mirror using every ounce of cover up I could on those irritating blemishes sprinkled around my face. I wondered if the curse of fair English skin would continually combat any hope I have of a beautiful porcelain complexion. As I was adding layer upon layer in a struggle that seemed totally futile my 8 year old niece walked into my bathroom and asked a lingering, "Whatchadoin'?" I explained about the problem that seemed to be blight covering my face and how it must be eradicated! She shook her head and replied, "Oh I know all about that!" My brows furrowed. "Ya!" she continued, "Just look at this!" Her delicate little finger pointed to a cold sore on her lip. "Oh," I replied in a patronizing manor "that will go away in a few days." As I poked here and there along my cheeks and jaw I said, "These are a bit more insistent than that." Back I went to my mudding. Then she narrowed her gaze and speaking just a little louder said, "Ok! Well look at this, and this, and how about this spot!!" I put my cotton pad down and watched as she moved that same delicate finger along alabaster skin to insignificant, slightly pink spots barely gracing her face. It struck me at that moment how truly beautiful she is. I know that I already have a prejudice, however I know she is indeed a very beautiful young lady.

Since then I have been thinking about the ways we teach our girls about beauty. At eight years old she is already comparing and looking for blemishes that must be hidden and removed. What am I saying when I use pounds of cover-up for skin that will from time to time show something that is a little less than runway worthy?