Occasionally Daily Painting....

The latest rage seems to be—for artists, anyway—to create, and blog, a daily painting, tiny and full faceted. What a lovely idea!

Instantly, I realized its value. And then my downfall. Hmph. Commitment. And not only that, but I am slooow.

And proving that, I have managed to take weeks to decide to jump on this fast moving train. Grabbing on to the quickly disappearing caboose, and using my techy side to slow the controls a little, I have finally produced a painting, a two-day painting; or two-week, if you count gestation. Well, not exactly gestation; more like beating down gremlins....

Snake River Canyon is a beautiful little spot off the main drag (a vehicle passes at least every four or five hours) on the Apache Reservation in the White Mountains of eastern Arizona. You have to rise to the occasion to get there; its elevation is 9000 feet. The air is so clear, so crisp, so full. Well, actually, it isn't very full at all—at least not of oxygen. Those yummy deep breaths are necessary!

There a handful or two of us painted and picnicked one day in early October when the aspens were just turning orange and yellow. We painted the canyon itself, lined with huge rocks striated with aspen-filled crevices and clothed here and there with soft moss.

Nowadays, rare is the painter who doesn't travel with digital camera, and so we took photos too, thinking to draw on their memory-jogging to paint more of the Snake River Canyon countryside once we were all back home.

*Snake River Canyon Hogan* depicts the scene on the road leading to the canyon and to the forests beyond. Not far from the paved road is a small cabin, with another small building nearby. I painted from the photo I took that lovely day.

By the way, 14 of us stayed on the banks of the beautiful Hawley Lake, on the reservation, most of us in cabins belonging to, and rented to us despite the normal season being over, by the Apaches. They were gracious hosts generously allowing us to share the beauty of their land for a week.

All this was arranged by Gwen Meyer Pentecost, a fine plein air oil painter now headquartered in Pinetop, AZ, where she runs a gem of a gallery (and studio) that she calls, appropriately, Joyous Lake. Be sure to pay her website -- www.artbypentecost.com -- a visit!

The Ol Man forgot how to make breakfast today, so here we are with my speedy scramble at 1 pm. Starvation compelled it. Eggs and the dregs of the fridge. Good enuf.

New iPods get shipped midweek, so I hafta wait for my multiple-celebration present!! What does that mean? Wasting an hour researching all the goodies to come. Yumyum.

Irreverence is good for humans. Not the hateful, destructive kind. No. Rather, the kind that says, what're you tryiing to sell me, world? I'm not buying what you force, or what you force-feed, or what you sneak in. I'm not buying guilt or fear or 10,000 Parisians can't be wrong. And if you get yerself all puffed up about something and think that obligates others to agree or admire or change their ways or kowtow--well, watch out, because I carry hatpins.

Hatpins don't hurt. They just let the air out of puffery and pomposity. Well, maybe reality might hurt a little, when yer not used to it.

I useta know English inside and out. Useta have it down and, boy did it bug me when folks messed it up! Well, that wasn't a good thing. Oh, good language is a good thing still. (If I keep this blogging biz up, you'll see some in formal stuff I might write.) But being bugged wasn't, so--sometimes kicking&screaming on the way--it's going.

Now I think this is enough for a first episode. Nothing of any import or relevance to anything much. Peace & cheer to all who may happen upon it.


Oh yeah. Today is after all a special day. It's the 110th anniversary of the birth of my dad. Kenneth Franklin Comstock was a special person. Sure would love to have him nearby still.