The Next Generation

Here it is folks, the next generation:
Recently I delivered work to a show at Simpson Gallagher Gallery in Cody.  I really should write about how important and cool the show is, but I’m more excited about the little man you see behind the easel, and the camping/painting trip we took after delivering the work.  Of my three boys, he is the one that has the focus and stamina and desire to paint.  I’d promised him this trip a couple months ago, and he continually asked about it like a child waiting for Christmas.

We painted and explored and built big fires and made s’mores and painted some more.  And it was the best three days I’ve ever spent out in the field.  Here he is, starting a pastel in the cool morning:

Is he talented?  I’ve asked myself that from time to time, but in painting, there are really no “prodigies” like you see in the music.  So, the more important question is this: is he focused?  Just look at the picture. He’d been standing there for an hour at that point, and he’s only about half-way.  When I was worn out on the last day, he insisted that, despite the heat, we hike back up the hill so he could finish his painting.  He’s focused.  And he asks questions: “How do I mix grey?” Or, “how do I mix the color of….”  He is curious and determined, two ingredients that if properly mixed, will shake up the world.

On our breaks from painting scrambled to waterfalls- with the mountains at nearly 200% of average snowpack, there was a lot of water coming off the mountain, and my son really wanted to make it to the base of one.  The first day we were stopped short by the many creek crossings in bone chilling water.  The second day we scrambled up to to this waterfall:

Seemed like a good idea, until I turned to Jasper and asked, “Did you just hit me in the head with a rock?”  At which we both realized that the waterfall itself was spitting rocks!  We retreated, scrambling over cascades and down the creek bed.  The sound was deafening: the roar of water with something harder to determine, a churning sound.  Imagine filling a dryer with rocks and turning it on, and you get the idea.  Look closely at the image:

Those are rocks being churned and spit by the water.  You could hold your hand in the water for a few seconds and it would fill up with rocks.  Incredible!  We laughed and hooted and howled at the power and wonder of it all,  and well… acted like a couple of boys.  Which, I guess, is the best part about going on a camping trip with a nine-year old.