But the "Gallery" was closed.
Miffed at being sucked in by the huge sign, I went around to the side, peering into windows and trying the back door. Then, chancing to glance left, I noticed the OPEN sign in a window of one of the motel rooms. Next to the door the words "Lone Pine Art" are spelled out with one-by-two sticks painted in British racing-green.
Bill Janson greeted me at the door and we commenced on a fine conversation about process; it seems it's the same...regardless of style.
An outdoor enthusiast, he'd owned the liquor, grocery and sporting goods stores until he retired. His eye for detail and ability to convey them onto canvas mean you need to stop.
His prices are very affordable too.
I looked up Kremmling. Oh, I had passed through there a few years back, eager to be somewhere else.
ReplyDeleteWe've been working our way north. She hot-footed it to Laramie, but I wasn't that eager. Colorado has always felt a tad too precious; a land of big, empty homes, too many trees and inaccessible public lands. I looked forward to getting beyond it, but the taunts from hitch-hiking hippie days in Wyoming still, 50 years later, linger. "Want a lift? Stick a jack up yer ass. Haw, haw, haw!!"
DeleteBill's 72, has a defibrillator and has been flown out twice for emergency medical services. His wife had an operation on her spine that turned into a staff infection leaving her paralyzed from the chest down. He cared for her until her death.
He recently met a woman whose husband died a couple of years ago and they've become friends. He has a large inventory of paintings and isn't as motivated as he once was. We agreed that as that tunneled light glows brighter, there's an increasing sweetness to each moment; savoring our olde age, doing what we can to make the most of the time remaining.
Good to read things are going as well as they are!!