The Presentation

As I write this
on the coldest night of this snowiest winter
this little creek is frozen solid.

It flows just a few feet from our log cabin front porch
and all that magnificent autumn color has settled onto the forest floor.

The rods and reels
vest and fly boxes
weathered wicker creel and landing net
which my brushes spent hours studying and rendering
have all been packed up
along with the finished painting
and sent north to the gallery.

Now I wait.
For this painting was a commission.

The fisherman found his way to my work and
after a wonderful evening of getting to know him last summer
hosted by our mutual friend and art lover
he told me the story behind his love of fly fishing
and the meaning it has in his life
and his soul.

We parted with a hearty hug
and… on his part
a with healthy dose of trust
saying goodbye to his precious collection of fishing gear
as we dodged the vineyard raindrops
loaded it all up in the truck
and drove back here to the studio.

I love to do commissions because
beyond the familiar draw
that compels me to the subjects I choose to paint
there is the lure of listening
for someone else’s connection
to an object or a place.

For this project there was the added challenge that
even though I live a pebbles’ throw from this creek
I have not ever been a fly fisherman.

After painting every tiny hair on all those flies I can honestly say…
I am thoroughly… hooked.

This fisherman has requested
to see no image of the work until he can stand in person before it.
I can only hope that I have captured a hint of the grace
of the peaceful sport and of the gentle man
who has worn the patina
into the softened leather
handles of that creel.

For tonight
I write these notes
while I await …
The Presentation.