Hi Subscriber,
Forty-five years ago, on July 5th I rolled into Glendo, Wyoming to make my home there for at least a year. My mom's advice had been to give it a year before deciding if I wanted to stay or not.
I pitched a tent at the lake, at Sandy Beach where I camped for two weeks. At the end of two weeks, my friend, Marie who had made the drive with me flew back home and I moved my camp to the other side of the lake, closer to town.
I commenced working at La Cantina bar the next day. When I got off work around two in the morning a nice dip in the lake was lovely. Or a dip in the morning.
Looking back it's hard to believe I was gutsy (or maybe stupid) enough to do that. But I was never afraid and nobody ever bothered me.
After two weeks my boss convinced me to move to a little house in town, which I was reluctant to do because I hadn't saved enough money for rent yet. But I did it, and as they say, the rest is history.
It's fun to look back at milestones like that. Especially when you don't know they're milestones at the time. Maybe painting statues is a milestone too.
I made my July trip to Cheyenne last Wednesday to try to get four more plein air starts of statues. I was at the corner of Lincoln Way and Capitol Ave. I wasn't able to get the hospital one in this time. Hopefully next time!
It was so hot! An early drive made it doable, letting me set up and start painting by seven thirty. It was in the upper 80s by the time I packed up around ten.
The spot I was painting at is a main thoroughfare and there were lots of people going to work at that time. And someone running a leaf blower, which sounded like a chainsaw, most of the time, getting dirt away from the curb.
That was unnerving enough, but then, as I headed to my car across the street a low, black, loud car kept coming toward me, making a left hand turn, not really slowing down. It flashed through my mind, that "Oh my goodness, there have been a few people hit in Wyoming towns recently while crossing the street. Is this guy going to hit me?!"
He missed my by about four inches as he went by shouting some obscenities at me. I had waited for the cross walk sign, but apparently he didn't know he was supposed to yield to pedestrians.
Couldn't have been from Wyoming. Anyway, I got four starts and still have my life so that's good! And I made it home driving that winding interstate across the prairie. The same one I took forty-five years ago.
I love painting these sculptures, but they sure do make me long for the wide open (and currently green) spaces outside of town! It was so noisy at this corner!
Anyway, here are the ones I delivered to Deselms Fine Art. Remember, they're all available there.
