Catching Up With My Writing

It's been too long since I blogged and so much has happened. I've been coaxing my creativity in other ways and have made some big steps. I decided to volunteer at the High Hand Gallery in Loomis because it would help a friend whose husband exhibits there and because it would put me in contact with the work of 25 artists who belong to the co-op. I'm on a quest to get to know my new home, which is also an old home. We lived in Roseville 25 years ago when John was editor of the Press Tribune and I was lifestyles editor. We've been back about six months but it's a brand new city, having grown from 25,000 to 100,000 while we were away. So I have the surreal experience of sitting in a little cafe I used to go to but not knowing a single person.

The High Hand Gallery is located at the nursery of the same name in an old fruit-packing warehouse. It's high tin roof is open and on cold wintry days, it's warmer outside than in. The gallery has a space heater that we huddle around and I dress in many layers of clothing, including long underwear, when I volunteer. It will be warmer next winter because the owner is adding a new roof. One day I volunteered with an artist named Charlotte Cooper who works in copper and does encaustic painting. This involves painting with tinted beeswax that has been melted. Charlotte was offering a one-day workshop at the local learning exchange and I signed up.

The experience turned out to be a good way to meet some people and learn a new art. And we each walked away with a completed 12 x 12-inch painting, mine in shades of blue and red and looking like a cyclone swirling up from an ocean to a science fiction sky. I was thrilled with it.

On the way home, I had to stop by the blueline gallery in Roseville, which we had joined recently. I saw people carrying in paintings and sculptures. I discovered that they were bringing their works for the Member's Show called The Long and the Short of It. I asked about the deadline and learned I had one hour to get my piece in. I rushed home and filled out the form, named my painting "Life is Short" and wrote a pithy artist's statement.

I raced back with my entry fee and dropped off my painting with a mixture of fear and excitement. The next week we attended the opening reception and there was my offering on the wall with other members' interpretations on the theme. Who knows? Maybe one day I'll be exhibiting at the High Hand Gallery.