Monday, August 31, 2015

The 139th Rosebud Fair

Words fail ...
all there was to do
was soak it in.

There was nothing about it I didn't love.

Smoke gets in your eyes

I've been to South Dakota recently;
a combination of ministry, business and pleasure.

Oddly enough, 
some things became clearer,
yet the air wasn't one of them.

Smoke from fires in the West created a haze 
that permeated and changed the entire atmosphere.

 A reminder that what happens in one part of our world
ultimately effects all of us.

 It didn't change the beauty
I saw all around me.

It just made me keep blinking 
and reaching for a tissue to clean my glasses.
 So, in the pictures that follow,
 realize the colors were more intense 
than they appear on your screen.

There's nothing muted about being on the Rosebud!

South Dakota being South Dakota
is nothing less than dramatic -


Saturday, August 22, 2015


I'm not sure if he's reinventing himself - 
or just getting closer to who he's always been.

This one;
this man
who's been teaching me for the better part of 4 decades 
how to be a better parent,
a better person actually,
is moving.

Half a country 
and light years away.

He's been to CA before -
when LA beckoned with its promises;
then came NYC (and the MOMA),
then VA (and graduate school).

But the place that's been 
'home' for him since art school
has been the West Bottoms in KCMO.

 The very definition of urban industrial.
I can't tell you how many 5,000 sq foot lofts
in seemingly abandoned warehouses
he's lived in;

unbeknownst to him,
 right next to a local meth lab.

But I squashed my fears for him,
listened to his stories
I grew to love it because he did.

He loved knowing where the treasures were hidden;
which alleys to turn down,
which doors to knock on
which building surprisingly housed
a gallery
the latest club,
the studio of a friend.

He loved the train tracks,
and the odd assortment of humanity
that chose to live in the district
in 'marginalized' fashion,
yet richer than most in experience.

Then developers, 'antiquers' and the 'hipsters'
started invading...
even if only on weekends.

It set the stage for him to consider moving on ...

 and, in the back of his mind,
the fantasy he had entertained
as a teenager
of living in a rural area,
surrounded by
honest, hard working people,
with some artists,
of course,
all content with 'less than'
our culture demands we expect
seemed to have had life breathed into it.

Trips were made,
long talks and walks were had
with friends;
new possibilities uncovered.
Decisions made.

In two weeks,
he leaves for Tomales, CA.

I'm so proud of him for taking this risk;
for following his heart
and daring to start something new.

He's downsizing from a 5,000 sq ft space
to 800 sq ft;
'stuff' will be relinquished,
left behind.

But if go to the crossroads in the center of town,
you'll know his place by what's hanging in the windows.

I know all moms out there will understand when I say 
I'm SO happy for him,
even if less than thrilled 
for myself,
 currently just the width of a state away.

Tomales, CA: population 250

Soon to be 251.