Had a really nice Gallery Talk yesterday at the West End Gallery. A wonderful crowd of folks turned out, a mix of many new faces and those who I have seen before. Made for a very comfortable setting and their warmth and interest made me feel at home.
Sort of the theme of the talk.
I had two different people, both from my hometown of Horseheads, remark afterward how proud they were that I was from and creating this work there. It caught me off guard. I had never looked at my work from that perspective, as being a source of civic pride. I had never seen it as being of one place but it is, being from where I live. My home. There’s a power in that phrase that can’t be underestimated.
Many, many thank you’s to everyone who took time from a summer day with perfect weather to spend an hour with me, especially to those who traveled distances to do so. I cannot fully express my gratitude for your warmth, your attention and your participation. And, as always, many thanks to Linda and Jesse Gardner at the gallery. Sticking to the theme, the West End is my home gallery and they have always made me feel at home there. Thanks so much for the opportunity you gave me nearly twenty years ago. My life is much changed as a result.
So, since I usually have some music on a Sunday morning, let’s stick with the theme of home. Here’s 25 Miles , performed by the late Edwin Starr, the Motown artist who is best known for his 1970 #1 hit, War . You know the song– War– good god y’all– what is it good for, absolutely nothing. 25 Miles was from a couple of years earlier, in 1968, and reached #6 on the pop charts. It’s an indicator of what was to come with War.
Enjoy and have great Sunday.
It sounds like a wonderful day at the gallery. Sometimes I think everything in the world reminds me of T.S. Eliot, and I probably can wear on people a bit because of it, but there is this, from his “Four Quartets.”
Home is where one starts from. As we grow older
the world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated
Of dead and living. Not the intense moment
Isolated, with no before and after,
But a lifetime burning in every moment
And not the lifetime of one man only
But of old stones that cannot be deciphered….
Everyone needs that starting place, and I’d say you had a good one.
Thanks so much for those great lines from Eliot, Linda. “But a lifetime burning in every moment…”– beautiful.
On Sun, Aug 10, 2014 at 8:50 AM, Redtree Times wrote:
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