Learning To Paint

Today was my first painting class.  I loved it.  My instructors, Lloyd and Judy, like me, are from BC.

I didn't really have any expectations in terms of teaching styles from them, but for whatever reason, I was a little surprised by their "hands off" approach.  It certainly wasn't a free-for-all, but there was little explained or explicit structure or logic in the way of instruction, and that threw me off a little. Come to think of it, the teaching style is probably called the "adult education" method: self-guided, no set agenda, ask questions when you have them.  At times I was frustrated.  I'm used to and like structure.

Having said that, they have a gentleness of being that was pleasant to be around.  They modeled technique well, and provided feedback frequently.  And when I made mistakes, they always offered a "better way" rather than criticism.  Most importantly, they were affirming.  They constantly encouraged me, and that was very good for my spirit.

My first "work of art" is a prairie scene.  Father's day is coming up next month, and according to Lloyd, it's realistic to complete my first painting by then.  I intend to give my first painting away as a present.

Below is, what I accomplished today: one-third earth, two-thirds sky, divided by a straight line. :)

Spring In The Prairies

Below is a letter that I wrote yesterday and sent to my dear friends on the west coast.  I think it captures my state of mind very well, so I'm posting it.

________________

To my dear friends: Greetings from sunny, warm, and dusty Moose Jaw. 

Spring arrived here 3 weeks ago, when within the span of a week, temperatures went from a snowy -15 to a sunny +15.  Since then we've hit temperatures of 28C on a few occasions, causing the landscape to transform from a grey and white mix to a multi-shaded green.   The snow has melted, the river swells are subsiding, and farmers have begun hauling out their massive machinery and preparing the fields for seeding and planting.  There's lots of dust everywhere, not only leftovers from the dirty snow, but also from the surrounding farmlands.  (Apparently early springs and late falls are dusty, caused by dust swirled up during planting/harvesting.  The in-between time is clean and clear).  We apparently had a longer than usual winter, and they're predicting a hotter (too bad not longer) summer as a result.  I'm sitting in a coffee shop, as I usually do on Sunday mornings after church.  I come here to reflect and to write, and of course, to drink good coffee.  As I look out the window, I see that the streets are bustling with people, cars, and motorbikes.  There's life.  This is a scene that I did not see until the weather warmed up.

Adjustment to life in Saskatchewan has been varied.

In terms of work, I could not be happier.  I feel valued, appreciated, affirmed, and of course, challenged.  I have the privilege of journeying with (mostly) elderly men and women who are nearing the last days of their lives.  There are some younger people at our facility too, as young as in their mid-30s, who through various reasons need care 24/7.  Visiting with the younger folk presents a different challenge altogether: whereas elderly folks often times have dementia and are blissfully happy, younger people are in a full-fledged existential crisis, coming to terms with the reality that they will live in our facility for the rest of their lives.

On a personal level things have been very different.  Extremely difficult.  Moving here has, for various reasons, marked a massive low-point in my life.  Only once previously in my life have I experienced such dark, intense, and excruciating loneliness and desolation.  In that sense, the bitter cold temperatures outside mirrored the landscape of my heart.  However, I'm thankful, because Wings of Love carried me to this point and place, and these same Wings will always be Present and carry me forward.  Spring is here.  Hope is ever-present.

I joined an outdoor co-ed soccer team.  Our team's not very good: we lost the first game 9-2, and our second one 6-3.  If this trend continues, we should be able to tie a game by game 4, and by game 5 we might win a game.  Problem is, there are only 4 teams in the league, so we play the same opponents over and over again all summer long.  Playing on the team is fun, even though my lungs have reminded me that it has been a while since hiking the Grouse Grind.  Most of my teammates are university-aged students, with two-tracked minds: drinking excessively and love conquests.  They talk about these topics with great enthusiasm, even a sense of accomplishment.

I also joined a community garden club.  There have been sufficient warm temperature days now (combined with freeze-free nights) to warrant planting.  The ground is dark, rich, warm and fertile.  Tomorrow (holiday) I plan to plant potatoes, onions, zucchini, peas, beans, and tomatoes.  I see some great focaccia bread sandwiches coming my way later in the summer.  Problem is, I have yet to find a place that sells focaccia bread here.  I live in a white-bread-only city...  I will also plant watermelons.  They should be ripe by the end of summer, in case any of you would like to drop in for a late summer watermelon feast.

Finally, I also joined a painting class: oil, on canvas.  My first painting will be a prairie scene, a present for my dad on father's day.  My second painting will be a path, surrounded by a forest.  I'd like to say that there is a deep meaning for the second painting, but the simple truth is that I like paths, I like walking/hiking, and trees are easy to paint. :)

A few weeks ago I met some guys who love board games.  Two of them love Settlers, one loves Ticket to Ride (he has 200+ board games in his home!), and one loves Carcassone.  Sadly, none of them know Rook.  I foresee some board game nights in the future, accompanied by wine and heavy theological discussions (a perfect mix).

I go to Regina about once a week, which, compared to Moose Jaw, is certainly a large city.  I go there mainly to eat good restaurant food and to buy things I can't buy here.   The German Club there serves schnitzel that is as good as the schnitzel at Katzenjammer on West 10th.  The Indian food there's good, too, but let's not kid ourselves, it's no match for Al Watan.  Sadly, there is no Spanish or Mexican restaurant nearby.

Yesterday I went on a day trip to the Badlands (south-central Saskatchewan), a 2 hour drive.  There are some very beautiful rock formations there that are remnants of the last ice age.  It was a great trip that included a 7-km walk on a lovely warm day.  After returning home I worked on my 1000-piece puzzle, an activity I'm discovering is as therapeutic as ironing clothes or washing dishes.

I hope you're all doing well.  I carry you all in my heart.  Grace and Peace to all, always.
Edgar

A Daytrip To The Badlands

Watching the snow melt has been very good for my soul.  I knew it would be.

This morning, in celebration of Spring's arrival, I packed my backpack full of hiking gear, prepared a  sandwich, some fruits, and a litre of water, and got in my lovely Jetta, headed for Castle Butte, a clay "castle" in south-central Saskatchewan.

The drive was pleasant: 2 hours, mostly rolling hills, past Coronach, and to the area known as the Badlands.  The scenery is not sexy like the coast mountains, forests, or ocean, but it's beautiful and attractive in its own subtle way.  Beauty perhaps not expressed in terms of power and strength, but rather, gentleness and serenity.  Lovely hills and valleys.  Lakes.  Clouds with personality and character unseen and unknown in coastal places.

And upon arrival at the Badlands, again, another form of beauty.  Vast.  Immense.  Present.

Once near the Butte, I parked my car, and went for a hike, first to the Butte, then on along the dirt road.  I noticed that unlike in BC where tourism is everywhere - it's part and parcel of daily life in many places - today I felt that perhaps it was a novelty, for people to see someone walking around with a pack on his back.

The prime example of this was when, while walking, the owner of the property (Castle Butte is located on private property, another thing which baffles me) stopped her truck and asked me what I was doing.  Ummmm .. hiking?

Anyways, I did in the end hike about 7kms.  It felt so good.  Refreshing.  Invigorating.  I ate my lunch on top of a hill, overlooking the endless valley.  I prayed and read my Bible. 

Thick, dark clouds eventually rolled in and threatened to open up their vast water vaults, so I got up and began my journey back to the car.  It did rain on my way back, but only for a very short period of time, probably not even 10 minutes.  Luckily for me, the vaults of heaven did not open fully.  The clouds rolled on, saving their liquid blessings for some other place.

On my way back home I stopped at a few places to take more pictures.  More lakes.  More valleys.  More green.  I don't seem to get tired of taking pictures.

I got home near 7pm.  It was still warm and sunny outside.  Spring is definitely here.  I can't wait for summer.

Getting Out

It's been a cold winter not only in terms of the weather outside, but the climate in my heart, too, has been ice cold.

But in the past few weeks the weather warmed up quite a bit - from -10 to +20! - so much so that the snow is mostly melted!  It's amazing.

I've been waiting for this melt to happen, determined to get out there and experience the prairies in spring and summer.  And of course, I've also been hoping that the warming up outside would lead, or contribute to, an interior warming up.

Here are the projects I've proposed to myself.  I trust that they will help open my heart again towards fellowship and community with God, others, and myself.

Gardening: I've always liked "living things".  Creatures that grow.  Plants that respond to water and light.  We used to have dogs in our family: Struppi and Yanqui being the two most obvious examples.  I remember when Struppi died after being hit by a car, I was in tears for weeks.  And as silly as it may seem, giving 20 of my plants away when I moved here, was very hard for me.

Growing vegetables, in a community of gardeners, will be a new experience for me.  I plan on growing corn, carrots, onions, and potatoes.  Other possibilities are peas, beans, and zucchini.  Space permitting - my plot is only 10ft x 10ft - I will throw in a watermelon or two. :)

Fútbol: I mentioned previously that I was interested in joining a recreation soccer league.  Done!  I signed up, and tonight was our second game.  We lost both games, badly.  But even though we got our a$$es kicked, both games were invigorating.  Our team is mostly made up of young and enthusiastic players, many of them much fitter than I am, but I'm hoping that my past experience and skills will prove helpful.

Painting: I've always admired good art, and I've always lamented the fact that my best attempts at painting amount to little more than drawing stickmen.  Well, now's the chance to see if I can prove the theory that "you can't teach an old dog new tricks" wrong.  I've signed up for painting lessons.  My first one is next Saturday, May 25th.

Here's to Spring: new warmth, new light, new growth, new life.

Weekend in Calgary

I came back from Calgary today, after spending the last 4 days there at a conference.  Actually, the conference was 3 only days long, but I spent an extra day there to site-see.  It was a blessing to be there, not only for vocational reasons, but personal too.

The theme of the conference was healthcare, under the paradigm of the Good Samaritan.  I attended workshops on a range of topics, including the need for meditation in our lives (how refreshing: when's the last time you've heard a talk on meditation at a conference?!?), the future of Catholic healthcare in Canada, the importance of narrative (story-telling) in spiritual care, and the need to focus on the vulnerable in our society.  Wonderful.

Below is a picture of me after the session on Wednesday night.  I walked through downtown and was quite impressed.  I've been to Calgary a few times but don't remember it being as cosmopolitan as it seems now.

On Thursday night there was a special dinner.  Lizzy Hoyt was the special guest, and she and her band played beautifully.  I bought her cd afterwards.

The conference ended on Friday, so I spent Saturday checking out the city.  I took the LRT to a mall, bought some shoes, ate lunch at a Brazilian restaurant (I drank guarana, I ate feijoada!) .. mmmm!, and late afternoon went on a lengthy walk through a downtown park and up a hill from where I had a nice view of the city.

In the evening I went to a movie.

I returned to my hotel room late on Saturday night, tired.  And while I'd have enjoyed some company, I nevertheless felt blessed for having had the opportunity to be here.

Tomorrow it's back to work.  I'm still in a honeymoon stage, I wake up each morning - even Mondays! - looking forward to what's ahead on that day.  Weekends are usually harder, because I don't feel engaged, connected.  On Saturdays I sometimes even catch myself wishing that it was Sunday and that the next day is a work day.  

This whole experience - preferring Mondays to Fridays - is completely new for me.