so, while i was determined to sketch the exterior of "po-po" family restaurant on saturday night (every time i drive out that way the sign catches my eye like some beacon symbolizing more than it does), there was no good vantage point that was free from traffic-bourne gravel, loud noises, public scrutiny. so i did what anyone would do. i sat there, bottom in the gravel, leaning my back on the rear bumper of my car, across the road from the restaurant. i stayed there, sitting indian-style (the politically-correct term acording to my kindergartener is criss-cross), and sketching while my legs fell asleep until my friend blake walks into my scene and almost into the restaurant. surprised, i yelled out his name, before thinking about how i looked and smelled (straight from a camping trip on both counts, unkempt, unshaved [ok, that part's pretty normal for me] and unwashed, replete with wild hair). he squinted at me and sort of half-yelled "paul?!?" back at me. I nodded in the affirmative as i saw his wife
janice janis and the rest of his kids walk up from stage left, and my other friends travis and ginger with their kids walking in stage right. by this time i'm standing from my seated, panhandling position and we all have a good laugh at my expense — they asked if i needed any money (i'm reminded of doug pagitt's warning-against-reductionist-thinking aphorism) and i assured them i was simply doing a plein aire painting/sketch thingy (travis must've seen the moleskine sketch series before?) and they went on their way, into po-po. small, small world, when you're in the middle of nowhere and that happens. when it came time to do the watercolor part of the sketch i reached back to get the bottle of water, and realized that it was back on the four-wheeler at the camp site. i wasn't about to go in a place called po-po looking/smelling like i did in order to ask for a cup of water, so i went down a half-block to the nelson city dance hall, toward the rear entrance, where i almost knocked gary p. nunn over as he and hus people were unloading equipment. really. i slipped inside the bar, asked for a water, whereupon the bartender replies, "don't got any water but here, grab one'uh'em ice-teas o'er there." So I proceeded to paint saturday's lentenblog sketch using teacolor paints instead of watercolor paints.