“One Day” continued: ...and sent to you as how a day in one’s life can influence our Fine Arts Audience. A second trip to the Twin Cities, Minneapolis, MN, my acclaimed home, was to give more attention to my daughter and grandchildren since my time with them was abbreviated with a trip to Augsburg College on Saturday, July 27, 2013; it was my grandson, Nathan’s high school graduation party with family and I left once I made the “hello’s known and I brought my party’s dinner contribution. And then I left. The details are in “One Day.” Sitting in the waiting room, my car in the repair shop, I placed a call to my daughter, Michelle; Nathan had an interview---Nathan was interviewed and hired, yesterday, for a position as Security Guard, where I work, St. Croix Casino, Danbury, Wisconsin. And connecting because I was in the Twin Cities was difficult. He was filling out final paper work this morning when I found Michelle by phone…a woman sat next to me at Firestone and I left to make this phone call to give her, her due privacy and me, mine. When I returned, her broad smile to greet me could not be ignored and we began a conversation. An amazing conversation. It began trite, as people unfamiliar with one another happens, but the conversation continued and she the delight finally told me she is a cancer survivor. 2002 she had cancer, a brain tumor and she shared the details of her recovery. Only those who have had this experience share of their recovery because life takes on a new zest and you want the whole world to know what it’s like, this zest for life. I smiled and told her I knew some of what she meant because I also am a cancer survivor. “See the jewelry I make.” She took from her ear an earring to show me. “Where do you find your beads” And see how I finish the detail” I wrap the wire so it doesn’t fall apart or break. But we pay attention to detail because we enjoy that others will benefit from our work. Yes, she said and then she shared that she struggles with remembering the day before and added when I make a necklace, I…try to…I cannot remember what I am trying to tell you…it doesn’t show on the neck, you cannot tell the connection of beads…I cannot remember how to tell you. So I wasn’t sure, but I was certain of what she meant and I lacked terms of her beautiful words to describe how she makes jewelry. So I began with…I know when one who displays their art, they do not like for their wire to show…That’s it, she said, I meant to say wire…then I continued, they use fish line so it’s not seen. That’s it, she said, that’s it! “Your car is ready,” the Firestone associate called for her. I do not know her name. Tears came to her eyes when I told her of “Writers and Artists Connection.” She told me before her surgery, she taught second grade. Had for twelve years and that she was 33 years old. I asked if there was another way to give to the community she loved and again tears formed into her eyes. Yes, she said, I volunteer at Fairview Southdale Hospital. We, my daughter, Margo, and grandchildren, and I had dinner together, on Tuesday, yesterday, a purchased dinner from Byerley’s deli and I’d made a plan with Firestone for some auto repair for the next day, Wednesday, July 31, 2013 today. “Drama in a Pot, I’m trying to accomplish drama in a pot, can you answer a question?” The white shirted, black apron-clad associate said, “If it’s to give the floor plan direction, I can, otherwise you need to talk to Neal who is walking our direction, I know nothing of this area; I work in the gift shop.” I walked toward Neal, smile on my face, “I understand you know about how to make drama in a pot,” I said. His face dropped and head drooped, then he faced me and said, “What do you need to know, I’ll see if I can help?” Well---I have this garden I’ve been working on all summer….” Neal then looked around and gave me new direction. “Here’s your guy, he’s coming our way now, talk to him, he knows all about what I think you are asking for.” I started walking, “your guy,” has to be the right guy; I stopped when in his path and eye for eye I blurted, “Drama in a pot, do you have a clue what I mean?” I sure do, he said, “My name is Mick, I am your drama man.” Well…I have this garden and this pot in the midst…Mick directed me to what fits the season that we are entering and I added that I wanted our choice to stand tall, high above everything, tall. Following him was fun because he talked of the plants we passed and how they could work and then these fuzzy grasses, burnt purple red; they carry the theme of the garden color, actually, But, Neal, there is this other fuzzy plant across---over there---I wonder if it’s meant to go in a pot or what. I took Neal to the grouping. Seeing it, he denied it’s meant for a pot but loves to be sunk right into the soil, he said Fuzzy plants match the wild fuzzy flower from the wild, the one we’ve oh’d and ah’d over a week or so ago from the photos of my garden. A garden, “my” garden must take on the painter’s canvas of line, value, texture, and color distribution. So, I load the plants into the car after spending two hours at the center for plants. The one from the grouping that I asked of Neal is unloaded. Once I saw it in its new element, the gorgeous woods, its new background, this is not just a fuzzy plant, not at all, it’s a pine tree! A fuzzy pine tree! A tree! Neal did not identify it as a tree. It is a tree! “BACHMANS” Minneapolis.
Posted on: Wed, 31 Jul 2013 22:15:20 +0000
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