Redtree Times

Moon Comforted– At Principle Gallery

Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art, like the universe itself (for God did not need to create). It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things which give value to survival.

–C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves (1960)

I thought I might give a quick recap of Saturday’s Gallery Talk at the Principle Gallery since I did mention that it held a pretty big surprise for me at its conclusion. The talk itself went pretty well. I felt like it got a little rocky in places when I was trying to explain how I have come to view my work as a representation of my own belief system and that is not an easy thing to get across to people, especially to a group and a limited time to do so.  But the group of folks in attendance really helped me through those points and we transitioned into questions and then into the finale where there is a drawing for a painting (or two) and some other small gifts for everyone. That part of talk is always popular, both with the folks there and me as well. A lot of fun.

Afterwards, I had short conversations with many of those in attendance, many who I now consider as friends and have known for years now from my time at the Principle Gallery. It’s always great to chat and catch up a bit, even if for a few brief moments.

As things were winding down, I was approached by a thin, bald man who smiled as he pulled something from his shirt pocket. As he handed me the object, he asked– to the best of memory–“Do you know ayone in Northern Ireland?”

I looked down at the object. It was a coaster withe shape of Northern Ireland filled with colloquialisms from that country topped with the words Norn Iron, the name often applied to the land by its residents. I immediately thought of my pen pal of well over 40 years, Tom Robinson, who lives in County Armagh. We have never met face to face.

I asked excitedly, “Do you know Tom?” I thought a friend of his might have been in front of me.

“I am Tom!”

I don’t know what I said at that point. For a few seconds my mind was spinning as I was just trying to compute what was happening and find my bearings. Finally, it dawned on me that this was indeed my friend Tom. It turns out that he had conspired to surprise me, coming into DC a few days earlier without my knowledge. We embraced and I babbled at him for a few moments, trying to take him in.

I first encountered Tom back around 1980 or 1981, when I was selling Bruce Springsteen t-shirts that I screen-printed and advertised in rock magazines of that time like Circus and Creem. It wasn’t a successful endeavor from a business standpoint but one thing that did come from it was a long-term friendship with a man from Portadown in County Armagh who worked in his family apple orchards as a youth and as a civil servant in Belfast as an adult. With only a short break in the late 1980’s, we have exchanged long letters and gifts for all that time. I have heard about his children as they have grown up and had kids of their own, as well as the many other details of his life and his travels throughout Europe.  He has heard about many of the highlights (and some of the lowlights) of my life as I transitioned from failed businessman to a pretty good waiter in a pancake house to a relatively successful, working artist.

He probably knows as much about me as anyone outside my family and a very small group of friends. And we had never met or even spoken. That is, until that moment.

To be honest, I was nervous about meeting Tom. I mean, there’s still distance in writing letters. You still have control in your words of how you present yourself and how you’re perceived. In person, we are, even though we might try to mask parts of ourselves at times, totally uncovered in our wholeness to anyone taking the time to look with any degree of effort. I was a bit afraid that I wouldn’t measure up to my letters.

But my fears were soon allayed, at least on my part. Our conversation immediately felt natura and easy, as though we had been talking at one another for years, not just in letters.

I lightly chided Tom for not alerting me to his visit, as I would have made arrangements to spend more time with him there in DC. As it was, my good friend Bob and I had a long dark and wet trip home ahead of us, so we were only able to spend a couple of hours talking together at the lovely, quiet restaurant next to the gallery.

It felt kind of terrible to have to finally say goodbye on the street. He was off to Philadelphia to tour the city a bit before heading home to Norn Iron midweek. But those couple of hours and the fact that this lovely, genial man made such an effort for the surprise of those precious few hours means the world to me and we both vowed to get together soon, one way or the other.  Still too much to talk about to not do so.

As I sit here this morning, my mind is still pretty blown up by Tom’s visit. That should say my good friend Tom’s visit.

Here’s a favorite Tom Waits tune, Time. Safe travels, my old friend…