Running the Moons— At Principle Gallery
He began to search among the infinite series of impressions which time had laid down, leaf upon leaf, fold upon fold softly, incessantly upon his brain; among scents, sounds; voices, harsh, hollow, sweet; and lights passing, and brooms tapping; and the wash and hush of the sea.
–Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse (1927)
I’m a bit tired this morning and have to get right back to work this morning to finish up work for my upcoming West End Gallery show so this is going to be shorter than it should be. It was a long day yesterday, most of it spent on the road, but it was a good day with what I felt was a fun Gallery Talk.
Well, I had fun.
I just want to extend a special Thank You to all that came out to participated. I could not be more appreciative of the warmth and friendliness that I received from you. Your attention, kindness, questions, and comments were the real strong points of the talk yesterday, making me feel as comfortable as possible in my uncomfortable role of standing and speaking before a group.
You folks made it fun for me as well as providing a large boost of energy and a positive affirmation of sorts, something much needed in a year that has been filled with doubts, loss, and uncertainty along with several health concerns.
I received much more than I gave yesterday– and I needed it all. You deserve all the thanks I can muster.
And, of course, a special Thank You to Michele and her wonderful group at the Principle Gallery– Clint, Taylor, Owen, and Brady. I could write a lot of words here (and probably should) about how much your friendship and affection, your caring attitude, and your hard work has meant to me in the 28+ years we have worked together, but my words would never properly capture the depth of feeling I have.
So, I will simply say Thank You with the hopes you know how much I truly mean those two simple words.
Hard to believe I’ve been with the Principle Gallery for over 28 years now. Like the title song chosen for this week’s Sunday Morning Music says, it’s Funny How Time Slips Away. This version is from the great Al Green and Lyle Lovett.
Here’s to many more years…
Redtree Times 
Sometimes your sailing paintings nail a certain feeling exactly. As soon as I saw this one, and its title, I remembered these lyrics from “Southern Cross,” and the feeling of running free before the wind:
“Got out of town on a boat for the Southern Islands.
Sailing a reach before a following sea.
She was making for the trades on the outside,
And the downhill run to Papeete Bay…”
Love that tune. It’s as close to sailing as I most likely will ever know.