And the winner is.....

The Artist's Magazine 2010 Student Competition

1st Place, Landscape/Interior

This is the write up in the magazine:

A simple watercolor landscape painted while entertaining his grandkids was the start of Robert L. Nelson's art journey. To his surprise, his daughter framed and hung the piece on the wall. After that, he began painting lessons, only to suffer a heart attack a few months later. "Feeling very mortal", this 67 year old teacher of hearing impaired children now takes lessons and workshops to learn everything he can.

The impetus for the painting, Imperial Point, Grand Canyon was a rare scene he and his wife, Judy, witnessed--the Grand Canyon from the north to the south rim during a soft rain--which Judy captured with her camera. Nelson wanted to render both the atmospheric perspective and the foreground detail. " The biggest surprise in painting the scene was the resulting drama in the clouds," he says, "and I'm pleased with the effect of the fog over vegetation and land forms." Nelson describes his quest to keep improving. "There's so much more to painting than the mechanic of putting pigment on canvas."

Here is the link to the progression of the painting on my art blog:

I do have a few of the limited edition giclee' prints available. Contact me for prices.

The Metaphor of the Grazing Horse, or How to Get What You Want

One hot afternoon, while wearing his halter with the lead line still attached, my horse was grazing. He handled the loose line carefully. Most of the time keeping it out of the way, or carefully stepping over it. But all that grass was distracting, and he stepped on the line with his hind foot. At that point he decided to try another patch of grass and started walking away. The rope tightened against his nose because his weight on it wouldn't let the line drag. He didn't panic, fight, or become upset in any way. He just kept quietly walking. And bent his neck and head around to the side to accommodate the line's restriction. Three steps he took. Then, in the normal course of the walk, his hind foot came up, releasing the rope. He carefully pulled the line aside and made it to his new spot as though nothing had happened. Life is like that. Sometimes we find ourselves with restrictions or obstacles when we least expect it. Like my horse did. We could get mad. Or let our feelings become hurt. We could fight. Usually, little is gained that way. Or, like him, if we are willing to be a little flexible we can reach our goal without even slowing down.

Then, a short time later, he was again distracted by the tempting grasses, but this time stepped on the lead line with his fore hoof right up near his nose. He continued eating all he could reach, and again did not panic or fight. When he had finished all nearby grass, he simple changed his stance. And he was free again without restriction. No fuss, no pain. Life is like that. Sometimes we get bound up tight by people or events around us. All we have to do is change our stance. When we are willing to change the way we stand on issues and problems in life, change the way we look at things, sometimes the grasses (rewards and solutions) become much more plentiful.

A New Experience

I had an opportunity to take a workshop on portrait painting. If you are interested in seeing the progress through the week's work, go to my Art blog...link is at the right.

I work best supervising others . . .

Monday, late afternoon, Judy discovered the sewer backing up into our basement. Called a plumber, who after 5 p.m. is very expensive. He looked at things and said it is not a plumbing problem but a sewer line problem. We called Roto Rooter. They actually came about 8 p.m. He was able to get our line open again, but couldn't get his snake beyond about 184' and our line is closer to 300' across two neighbors' yards. We dug out a second closer clean-out valve (see picture above) Tuesday, and he returned today with a snaking camera to find out what was wrong inside the line. We found the line has been crushed and only about 2" of space was letting water through. We are going to have to dig down about 5' in one of the neighbor's yards to repair the line, maybe taking out some sidewalk or street to do so. I am expecting a 2-3 thousand dollar expense out of this.
It is good I have a job. This is how you win friends and influence neighbors.

Then Katie observed. . .

Katie watched me as I placed out the materials for our next lesson, chin cupped in her hand, elbow on the table. Then she asked, "Why is your ear growing a beard?"

Ohhh, the changes time has wrought.

Katie came in . . .

Katie came in from recess, just a rubbing her nose tip in circles with her palm very vigorously.

"What's the matter, Katie? Do you have hayfever?" I asked.

"No. Just a big booger in my nose that won't come out. And I tried to sneeze, and sneeze, and everything, but it still won't come out," Katie replied. "Like this . . . " And here she demonstrated the ol' farmer's handkerchief trick of blowing one's nose with the thumb and index finger, the hand upside down, with the palm facing forward, and leaning over.

"Well, there is a tissue in the box in the corner if you want to try one," I said.

"Okay." Taking a tissue, she held it up with two hands to her nose and blew. Then held it down and inspected the contents curously.

Her face just lit up with joy! "I guess I just needed more pressure," she exclaimed!

And then Katie said . . .

When I am happy, it is sunny.

When I am sad, it rains.

When I am shy, it snows.

When I am mad, it is stormy.

(She paused and thought, then said . . .)

I guess I can change the weather.

More Katie

While working on more vocabulary, the word "size" came up. Checking her understanding of it, I asked, "Katie, do you know what size you are?"

"Yea, I'm a small, sometimes a medium."

Then after surveying my gut for awhile, she said, "But you have to be a large."

Meanderings

Old age brings interesting changes. Inability to sleep is one. My body hurts (fibromialgia) and I'm tired from 6 high stress weeks at school. But unable to sleep even with a sleeping pill, I got up and participated in the sacred routine of dunking cookies. It is a ritual. In this case lemon iced cookies in chocolate milk. Raised in the Great Depression, my dad used bread and milk. Principle is the same: mediation.

Question arose in my mind regarding the purpose of life. It has been said we are here to be tested. With decades of testing under my belt, both administrating and receiving, my conclusion is that testing is one the shallowist means of measureing an individual possible. Surely our God can do better than that. If our eternal happiness and progression is based on passing a test, then our God is not a very effective leader and teacher. Reasons of this conclusion are many, if any care to ask.

What is the nature of life's so-called test: pass/fail? Many frightening people cling tenaciously o that one. That is popular right now. How about multiple choice? A segment of society find that apalling, as they should. An essay, written by our lifes? Better, but some of us are not good writers. Multiple choiec? Many curdle at that thought as being too ambiguous. So the question becomes even more what kind of test, if we have any hopes of passing it. The older I get, the more I doubt passing a test is the primary purpose of life.

Though I may present few answers, I hope to present some thought proking questions to those who are mature enought not to be frightened by searching queries. I do have a testimony, but that will be shared after the questions to follow.

Good night for now.

A Frightening Thought . . .

Although spring around here can be cold and dark, the bright spirit and thoughts of young students can be refreshing:
We were reviewing a vocabulary list and the word was 'drive'.
"Katie, do you know how to drive a car?" I asked.
(Katie is a ten year old deaf girl I tutor.)
"Not really", she wistfully replied. "Just a toy car on the sidewalk and grass and stuff."
I replied, "Well, when you are sixteen you will learn to drive an adult car." I paused. Then said, "That is a frightening thought, isn't it?"
Katie thought it over a minute, then said, "You don't have to be afraid, Mr. Nelson, 'cuz you'll be dead."

One Little Girl's Thankful List

One of the little girls I teach is a nine year old profoundly deaf child, for whom language and speech are difficult. I gave her the sentence, "I am thankful for . . . . . ", hoping for 2 or 3 responses to complete it. Instead, this is the list she gave me:

• everybody
• life
• home
• school
• family
• all my friends (followed by a smiley face)
• foods
• bed
• teachers
• my backyard
• my peach tree
• computers
• tickles
• seasons
• books
• my birthday
• the day
• clothes
• TV
• video games
• a rainbow
• colors
• chairs
• tables
• singing (remember, she is deaf but has a cochlear implant)
• balloons
• my bike
• camping (she has never been camping, yet)

Now that the rush of preparation for Thanksgiving is over, I thought it might be good, to ponder and consider for what I am thankful. I am thankful for this student. Her simplicity; her dreams and experiences listed above seem so refreshingly profound to me.

The Metaphor of the Moose

While riding with Dreampacker last Saturday morning, we chanced upon three moose. The first of which was this young bull. He was having a hard time. He'd recently been kicked out of his mother's care and the big guys were beginning to push him around with "the season" beginning. Then we showed up, and he was unsure. With all the bear attack stories this year in Utah, I'd still rather face a bear on the trail than a moose. Even a young one like this can be much more dangerous.

This life is hard wired for adversity. It happens. A lot. We could have looked at this guy (as big as my horse already) and considered him to be an adversary, a moment of adversity. A problem. Trouble. Had we done so, he would have obliged and become something more to be reckoned with. By choosing to look at him as an adventure to be desired, our horses calmed, he calmed, and we had the joy of a minute of his association before he moved off the trail.

Adversity is like that, too. If we stay calm and seek the adventure in it, it becomes a learning experience to be cherished, at least in hind sight some day.

Then adversity, like this moose, when it has taught us what we desired at the time we wrote it into our life's script, will take one last look over its shoulder and disappear into the trees. Perhaps even passing us by altogether . . .

. . . so we can turn our attention again to the beauty of life around us and . . .

. . . to the peaceful joy of the sunrise, of both the one at hand and of the One to come.

Such are the ponderings of this grandpa when he chances upon a moose.
(Well, if I'm dressed. But that, as you know, is another story.)

Almost Missed

Dreampacker and I almost missed this little beaver pond and spring on our ride the other evening, yet it is big enough to go skinny dipping. As the story below asks, what else might we be missing when we "ride" too fast?

Washington DC Metro Station on a cold January morning in 2007. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time approx 2 thousand people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After 3 minutes a middle aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule.4 minutes later:the violinist received his first dollar: a woman threw the money in the till and, without stopping, continued to walk.6 minutes:A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.10 minutes:A 3 year old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly, as the kid stopped to look at the violinist. Finally the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced them to move on.45 minutes:The musician played. Only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace.He collected $32.1 hour:He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.No one knew this but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100.This is a real story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's priorities. The questions raised: in a common place environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be:If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ....
How many other things are we missing?

Morning Unfolding

The sun has risen above Mt. Ben Lomond as seen from the valley, but here at Mountain Road Ranch all is still in the shadows of a clinging night.

There is a mist of early morning rain on the roses . . .

. . . and the early bees are "busy gathering like never before...yep! . . . it's going to be a long hard winter", . . . oh, but, that's another story.

And like families, there are some dragging out late and asking," Is it morning yet?"

Some blossoms are so determined, they seem to glow . . .

. . . without any direct sunlight.

But when the sun slips across the Pass, bathing the garden in a moment of slanted light . . .

contrasting lights and shadows bring new depths . . .

. . . and even an old Zinnia, pregnant with seed, promises one more day of color.

So too, the corn makes one more try to ensure every silken thread is pollinated . . .

. . . and it goes not unnoticed by the gathering bees.

When the sun moves behind Lewis Peak,
throughout the garden faint light still shows contrasts . . .

. . . of color and shape . . .

. . . and contour.

And still some glow . . .

. . . and seem to burn with an internal fire not yet from the sun.

Others, bowed patiently through the night, begin to open, lift and face the sun.
So may we all.

Of course there is a post script:
Can anyone identify this unique blossom?
Hint: it is in the garden.

Royal Feast

There are many metaphors drawn comparing gardening, planting, and harvesting with spiritual terms of planting seeds, wheat and tares, harvests to come, faith, works, and much more. Suffice it to say, " I did prune, and dung 'round about it." And now the harvest is in full swing. Apricots are done. Our corn is gone now; the sweetest you'll ever taste. Peaches are in in mid season, with two more later varieties to come. People drive from clear out state to get our apricots and peaches. My best peaches are the size of softballs and much easier on the palette. Grapes are about a week away. Please come and get some, for our larder is full of last year's juice. Some say pride is of Lucifer. Maybe. But I am proud of the harvest the Lord and I put together. It lacks only those to enjoy it.

New Adventures?

I started school today with two new assignments added to my full case load of deaf kids, grades 4 - 11 this year. One is to train a new teacher of the deaf hired a week ago. The other is to coach 15 seasoned teachers of the deaf. I meet with my director tomorrow to find out how this all will fit into one day or week. The day is not long enough. Is there no rest for the wicked?

Hiking and Camping with Dreampacker

Those of you who have had the pleasure of camping with Dreampacker know that you have to rise early to keep up with her, especially if she has a camera (she took about 500 photos on this trip). Even the northern latitude sun above had to hustle. She was very willing to attend the Stampede Rodeo in Calgary with me . . .

but her real love is the out of doors. Especially if it has dramatic clouds.
She can sit and peacefully enjoy the scenery and the day, but soon details catch her eye . . .
and she wades into the glacial river to check out the multi-colored stones more closely.
Suddenly one "speaks" to her. You all have seen this happen before . . .
and she'll save the special one (or two, or three) and wash it clean to go home with her.
But she loves animate nature, too. I think she regretted not being at this stump when a bear tore it apart looking for grubs. But smaller animals . . .
would fearlessly check out her toes and fingers, or . . .
be like this little gray bird escorting her up the slot canyon. It would hop from rock to rock as though showing her the best way to go upstream. It disappeared when other hikers came by. But after they left, it came right back to her.
Large animals were also unconcerned in her presence (this is without a telephoto lens) and continued their grazing or . . .
resting in full view of her camera. From large to small, from dramatic to sweet, she loves it all. Most of her photos probably were of wild flowers. Check out her blog to see some. However . . .
when the mood hits, she loves to explore new sights such as this trail to a water fall. She is on the catwalk in the top left corner. Naturally, being a Utah desert hiking veteran . . .
she recognizes a cairn when she sees one, like this one marking the pictographs on the wall behind her.
It is always an adventure to be with Dreampacker in the wilderness. It is so refreshing to see things through her eyes, and to feel the special love she brings to both God's creations and His creatures.