I have kept track of the four of them for decades, those giant ash trees that look like geriatric cheerleaders, all knobby knees and elbows akimbo.
Today all that is left of them is s single massive torso laying heavily on the ground, cut open like a diagram to show a lifespan of growth, lightning strikes and termites.
It should be no surprise. The years and the wind and the ice have taken their toll. The empty spots where heartwood should have been housed countless birds and squirrels and other creatures that resided quietly within the depths of each limb. Often on our walks under the twisted trunks I would announce to Handsome Husband that it was time those trees came down. Public safety and all that. Finally, the emerald ash borer was threat enough to bring them down.
Despite my practicality, I miss them. The space in the sky is surprisingly empty now. No arthritic fingers to catch the wind, no elbows or crooks for nest-building birds. It’s quieter too.
That may be why, in part, I paint trees. As memorials to all they’ve seen and all they have held in their arms and nestled in their shadows.
Out here in the Great Wide Open, opportunities to show artwork are few and far between.
It’s up to us to create our own spaces.
This past weekend was the perfect opportunity to hold a Pop-up gallery; a short-term one-time shot-in-the-dark event designed to call attention to the work I’ve been piling up over the last long while.
The Geneva Rural Living Expo! had a space just right for my needs; across from a furnace guy, next to a garden business and just down the way from a window guy, a lady selling homemade noodles and the Boy Scouts of America booth.
It wasn’t fancy. Instead of cheap wine and stale crackers patrons wandered by with Walking Tacos or egg salad sandwiches from the food stand. Nonetheless we had some terrific conversations about art and I came home with less than I started out with.
Many thanks to John and Sue, Sharon and Cecil, Brandy, and so many others for stopping by
P Scarborough’s Rural Living Pop-Up Gallery and gabbing with me. Your questions and observations were stimulating.
Hanging out there reminded why I love living here. And who knows? There may be a pop-up coming just in time for sidewalk sales.
I've been sharing the odds and ends of my art life for the last 8 years.