Enid Petherick

August 9, 2001

Collecting fresh greens for supper in my peripheral vision, I saw a large black spot moving in the bush south of the garden.  Giving it my full attention I made out sunshine glinting on glossy fur. A black bear ambling in my direction. It hadn't seen me and bears don't have great eyesight.  I yelled and began to sing? loudly.  It heard, rolled its head from side to side to focus in my direction and picked out my waving arms.  A few moments pause.  Then it slowly headed to the top of the bank on its left, turned and faced me at the edge of the woods from where it had a full view of me and the garden.  We eyed each other surreptitiously for several minutes while I gathered salad. Finally, tiring of me? it began to walk along the edge of the forest but still focusing on me.  I saw why.  Running behind but further in the trees was a little black cub.  Mother and cub passed before me, but from the height of the ridge-mother always between me and her young.

August 17, 2001

This morning I waited for Ralph at the car and noticed muddy splotches on the hood.  Curious I gave closer examination and realized with a shock they were tracks - little bear tracks!  Up on the bumper, across the hood at a diagonal to sit on the windshield wipers on the passenger side-big splotch here where a wet, muddy rump had slid partially down the windshield and right off the side of the car!!  Muddy gloms all round where one playful cub had satisfied its curiosity.  We bemoaned the fact that we hadn't been able to watch as the cub - wet and muddy from cooling off in the pool below - had discovered the thrill of "sliding"-albeit accidentally.  So what if Ralph had to spend some time repairing the wipers-not everyone can say their wipers were damaged by the chubby rump of a playful bear cub using the windshield as a slide.

Later in town, with excitement and some trepidation we turned on the rented computer and called in MillenniumArtGallery.com.  This is the first time we would be able to participate in my Online Opening.  Could Ralph type fast enough?  Could I think fast enough under these circumstances?  I am now learning to type but I will dictate while Ralph types.  Had we forgotten any invitations? How many?  Would anyone respond?  Exciting stuff this - a first.

Five minutes late and the box for okaying the chat applet would not appear. We asked the manager.  She checked the machine and tried another.  All should be in order.  We decided to email the Gallery Curator and tell him we had a problem.  Fifteen minutes later we still hadn't got into chat.  Check email-message from R L Johnson-"Millennium chat server crashed".  Stunned pause. Of all the possibilities we had been worrying about, this hadn't occurred to us.  A bit anticlimactic.  Ralph began emailing to explain the situation to friends and interested art patrons.

"Give them a pamphlet"…I looked at Ralph.  "What?"  He kept typing.  "The people beside you-give them a hostel flyer". I turned to the British couple beside us who had begun to check their email. The woman was looking with interest at our site over her husband's shoulder and I handed her a Primitive Hostel flyer "just in case you might be interested in a wilderness experience".

They left while we were still sending out emails-but returned fifteen minutes later.  "Where is this hostel?"  They asked questions and we answered. They had accommodation for the night but considered canceling. When we returned home that afternoon their rental car was already parked and our guests had walked by the river where it was cooler and done some exploring on their own. They decided to stay two nights at the cabin.  We discovered that they lived in the middle of the Yorkshire Dales - we talked till midnight - an area which brings back memories of a marvelous day Ralph and I had spent traveling with a friend through some of the moodiest and most inspiring scenery one could imagine.  From sunshine to black cloud, to thunderstorm with snow; the rain so heavy we had to pull off at a country inn for tea.  Rolling mountains and acres of purple heather cut by miles of stone fences like ribbons.  Paintings in my head still waiting to be done. An unexpected sense of vastness.  Easy to see how this couple have an empathy with Canadian wilderness.  We thoroughly enjoyed their visit.  So our crashed Opening turned into an opportune meeting. And we have in place a good beginning for a follow-up Online Opening later in the year.  Our anticipation builds.

August 22, 2001

This evening from our back deck I watched mother bear and cub cross the top of the ridge and disappear into bush.  A regular route this.  The cub has grown much in two weeks.

Sept. 4, 2001

A young couple recently spent several days with us.  His grandmother had died this past summer and he thought of buying a painting to remember her by. He looked at many paintings, narrowed his choice to three, and spent a few days thinking about his final decision.  He chose "Night Tree"-a tree is silhouetted against a surging sea.  .Gnarled roots break from and twist round sea-sprayed rock, a sinewy trunk rises and branches into an overhead canopy.  Strong, tough, elemental.

The grandmother was an outstanding athlete in her homeland and with determination and courage adapted to life in her chosen land-Canada.  A strong woman physically and psychologically;  I feel honored to have a painting stand in her memory.

October 3, 2001

I met the cutest little "guy?" (intuition) scampering among the potted plants and building materials piled on the front deck while Ralph installed the new chimney. A young weasel still brown with white underbelly moved closer and looked up, head cocked to the side when I spoke.  A long inquisitive face with round ears and huge bright eyes scrutinized me (whoever gave "weasel-face" a negative connotation didn't know what they were talking about). Too young to have learned fear -or maybe it knew I was harmless (captivated?). It's world so far must have been full of food and summer sunshine. It seemed fascinated by my voice so I continued a one-sided conversation (if only I had my sketchbook!).  I did remember to admonish it not to eat the tomatoes as it skittered behind a plank, heedless as any child.

October 12, 2001

My last commitment for the Columbia Basin Trust Grant was to show the results at the Columbia Kootenay Cultural Alliance Conference in Fernie this weekend.

My proposal had been to further develop my figurative landscape paintings and I finished 15 pieces over the course of the winter. For the conference along with a portfolio showing all of the finished images, I presented five framed Giclee prints from my Millennium Gallery on-line site and was pleased to receive many positive comments.

This was an intensive learning weekend with presentations on promotion and marketing, portfolio development, and cultural heritage, requiring artist participation and exchange. It was also a time to meet artists from many creative fields--music, writing, visual, and dancing. The most exotic art expression and for me one that I have not often seen was the belly dancing. I much admired the dancer who entertained and educated her audience while demonstrating her art form after the Saturday evening banquet. Admired? Hey, make that envy!

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Ralph van Drielen
(Siamese Twin of Enid Petherick and Chief of Staff at "Primitive Hostel")

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