When A Painter Gives a Talk, Does a Tree Fall in the Woods?

rontalking

We are getting slammed with a lake effect storm at present. Tomorrow night I have an artist talk scheduled, and I plan to follow through, and decorate with all the trimmings, no matter what the west wind has in store. That is, I will lay out cookies, fresh fruit, cheeses, punch, cider, hot coffee—not tea (I always put strong tea in the punch), plug in the projector, and Powerpoint® as though my life depended on it. I will set up a cozy den to counter late November’s expressive grudge against all living species. Deer, rabbits, and left-over birds are allowed inside with the humans. No mice. They get on the cookie plates and leave muddy prints. And no porcupines or skunks for obvious reasons.

Thanks to modern technology, those of you outside the area can tune in on Facebook Live. Here is the link to the public invite. I will set up the device facing my makeshift movie screen made out of stretched canvas. I will comb all my hair back—maybe put it in a bun, and be polite, outgoing, and much less boring than a high school principal.

7:15 PM sharp. Tuesday, November 22nd.

Here is some local press on the show. We painters receive an accolade from eternity every time a click occurs.

Strange new world, yet exciting too.

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