I was thinking about why I title these sorts of posts, “Finding_________”, instead of “Meeting _________”. At first, I wondered if it had been influenced by the movie title, Finding Forrester, one of my favourites. But, no, I have come up with another answer while hiking Frank’s Flats today, enjoying the sunshine and the melt.
Since I’ve retired from full time teaching, there is not a single day goes by where I do not seek out new knowledge, revelations or relationships.
Today, I found Blake. I’ve seen him before…tucked between trees on the ridge that surrounds the flats, but today I decided to introduce myself. This afternoon, he had his easel set up on the north slope. The sunshine was exceptional and his colours danced, even as I hiked some distance away, edging the pond.
“Hi, there. Do you mind me grabbing a photograph of your work?”
“No problem…sure…go ahead.” (broad smile…warmth in his voice)
“It’s meant to be viewed the other way…a pyramid…pizza.”
I asked him if he would turn the canvas for me…we step back together. The conversation opens up so that I forget to snap the second photograph.
I notice, “It looks as though there is a hole through the pizza that leads somewhere else.”
“That’s cool. I didn’t notice that.”
“Where do you pick up your stretched canvases?”
“45% off at Michaels.”
“Have you heard of the Gorilla House? Rumble House?”
From there we talk about connections…art…street art versus destructive painting…youth.
“How did you get started painting?”
“I used to be a skateboarder…snowboarder…until I was found to have an inherited liver disease. I had to say good-bye to all of that. I paint now. For the most part, I give my paintings away to friends. I’m forever indebted to my uncle who gave me a big chunk of his liver. That’s why I’m alive today.”
“Come down to paint with us. Get connected with like-minded people.”
I hope Blake fires me off a note by e mail so that I can share some locations/links with him. It was a great thing to find Blake. Once again, I marvel at what people do and the reasons they do the things they do.
I walked on from there…stooped…a piece of litter continuing the colour story.
