Lost a Friend

Leslie copyI was employed as a direct care worker people with developmental disabilities In New York and Tennessee for a total of 16 years. The pay was poor but there were benefits and insurance and I liked my job. I declined opportunities to advance into management which would have paid more but also take me away from working directly with our people…my friends. One of my friends was Leslie who was bed ridden when not in his wheelchair. He was smart and funny and had a sharp tongue that he wasn’t afraid to use. I was adept at loading him up onto the wheel chair van so I took him to many appointments and outings. One time after an appointment in Buffalo I took him to see the inside the Basilica. For once he didn’t talk much. He just kept looking around at everything in awe. He was big on TV trivia. “What was the neighbor’s name on Bewitched?” Gladys. “What did her husband always say to her?” Gladys, take your medicine. One time when he had gotten a positive note from staff. I told him it was nice and then told him how I once came home and found my wife and all her belongings gone. She left a short note saying “Bye Arthur.” Not even a “good” bye. He thought that was hilarious. As I put him on the bus the next morning he grinned at me and said “Bye Arthur.” The driver thought he was just saying goodbye but I knew different. A couple of years after I left the agency I stopped by the group home to visit the guys. They told me Leslie was in bed and probably asleep. I cracked his door opened and peaked in without a word. Then I heard his voice coming from his bed, “Bye Arthur.” He had a great memory. He could be ornery and impatient. One time he snapped at me. “I’m going to rip off your head and show it to you!”  “Leslie, that isn’t even scary,” I responded. “Its just puzzling. How are you going to show me my own head? Run around until you find a mirror? By then the moment is gone. Its the heart Leslie. You are suppose to rip out the heart and show it.” “Oh…that’s right,” he said meekly and then we both started laughing. We did laugh a lot. His physical disability was chronic and progressive but he didn’t talk much about it and didn’t seem to feel sorry for himself. With his body failing him he was not long for this world and I just learned of his passing. I hope angels are good at TV trivia.

Cut Short


The trip to Nashville to visit old friends and to heal the wounds of departed loved ones that Duffy and I had planned for months got cut short.  We were already in Tennessee, almost into Nashville when we got the first clue that things were going to get rough. We heard that the memorial for our friend Dave Olney at the Springwater on Sunday was cancelled due to the Coronavirus. We got into town Friday night and spent the night with our old friends Gael and Susan who live outside of Nashville. I love going there and seeing my art hanging all over the place. They had been early supporters of my work. We went to the Springwater the next afternoon where we found the owner Terry at the bar. Duffy was running the bar when the owner bought the place decades ago. Duffy used to sleep on the pool table. Driving around he would point out places he slept. “See that church courtyard? I slept there for a week once.”  Duffy has a million great stories about the old days in Nashville back when it was just an international small town. He hung around with some of the greats. I left Duffy at the bar to reminisce with Terry and went over to Marathon Village to touch base with Barry Walker. Marshall Chapman played the Springwater that afternoon. The place was almost empty and they shut down the next day but we got to see her show. I also finally got to meet the legendary Chris Gantry who also played a couple of songs. Marshall Chapman continues to do weekly live feed shows there that in part supports the employees of the Springwater. Check her out! That night we got to see our friends The Limitations play at Browns Diner. I hope to get them to play the cobblestone sometime in the future. They are a fun band. Some of the friends I had hoped to see did show up there so we did get to see a few friends. It shut down the next day.  Duffy’s main goal of the trip was to perform his new poem about Charlie Fenton turning him Irish for Charlie. We did get to do that and I mended the fence that I made for Charlie that had sustained only minor damage from the tornado that ripped up the neighborhood next to him. In our travels we got to see some of the damage done by that terrible tornado. Just as Nashville was on the verge of recovery the pandemic hit. The pandemic which would soon take the life of Nashville’s greatest treasure….John Prine. Sad times in Tennessee these days. We left the next morning for Duffy’s home in Virginia. Before I headed back to New York from there we went to his favorite bar for a couple of drinks. They closed down the next day too. I guess we made the best of our trip. Took it to the limit. We have been home a month now without any symptoms so it looks like we dodged some bullets.

Do Not Travel Far

“Do not travel far when looking for a wife,” is an old Chinese proverb. I don’t know if this is true or not having been married only once. Apparently, I either traveled too far or not far enough. But I can say this is true when looking for a subject to paint. One can travel all day looking for the “perfect” scene and not have any art to show for it. When John Singer Sargent would go off with a group of his artist friends to paint from life somewhere his friends were impressed how few steps he would take to find a subject. He wanted to spend his time painting not traveling. This has been an issue with me as I love to travel… to know what is around the corner or over the hill. But to draw and paint one must stop moving. A short drive or walk from my cobblestone provides ample subject matter for me. Yesterday I parked on a back road close by and drew a picture of a old barn. I worked directly in ink on watercolor paper. I spent this morning painting over the drawing in watercolor.   6″ x 10″culvertbarnculvertbarn2 (1)

The Waterport Trestle Mural

I was asked by a collector of my work to do a mural of the Waterport Trestle for a private space. The blank wall was 28′ long and the subject was to be the re-creation of an old pen and ink drawing that I had painted over many years ago. The Trestle itself has been gone for decades. I rather enjoyed this project as it was so clear as to what the client wanted and I was enlarging my own art work.  In order to replicate the work I decided to create it the same way I did the smaller original…pen and ink that was painted over in color. I used around 100 sharpies to draw the image and then I painted over the ink with acrylic paint.  It was fun working on such a large scale project.20181125_192758 copy 220181012_17230220181019_17201320181028_20032320181029_14313220181120_22183020181111_11575520181120_221228

Long Lost Friend

girl on a fence (1)Occasionally a piece of art from my past returns to me like an old lost friend. I was recently given this drawing I had done at the request of the mother of a friend I had grown up with. I had known her since I was a young teen and I considered her a friend too. She had requested two black and white landscapes. The other one is lost in time somewhere. I also recall doing an oil painting of a Native American in full head dress for her… also lost. I don’t recall the details of this piece other than it was a composite of 2 or more drawings done by other artists. I Arthurized it. From etchings perhaps. Approximate date: 1979. Size: 15″ x 8″

Art to Wales Without the Artist

Today I mailed the art work I am donating to the 2019 AT Charity Ball in Wales.  I participate in it annually. A watercolor over an ink drawing. The scene is from Gresford, Wales where I stay with family. This year the event was moved up to the Bolesworth Estate which holds a 1000 people. Although a castle by American standards it is really more of a very impressive, stately home. Having pressing issues and a full plate with my cobblestone I won’t be able to attend the Ball this year. I will be there in spirit. There will be no obligatory pics of me in a tux this year. But my tux is waiting for me. I will wear it next year as long as I can keep my boyish figure.