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My wife is a musician. That's her, playing the Taylor & Boody Opus 64 pipe organ at St. Michael's Episcopal Church in Bon Air. People first meeting me often ask if I am a musician too, and I generally respond with a tired gag about playing the CD player and car radio. Or I say I do something equally important: I sit and listen attentively. I do drum. Annoyingly and sans rhythm with my hands on things like the kitchen table to the massive irritation of all within earshot. I don't think that counts.

So, no, I am not a musician. I am an appreciator of music, and musicians, but I cannot tell an eighth note from an english horn. When Crystal talks shop with her fellow musicians I understand no more than if they were discussing medical operating theater protocol using a combination of sign language and meows. I have heard words such as allegro and downbeat all my life, but have no idea what they mean.

Anyhoo, it strikes me that I have painted many works with a musical theme over the years.

So here we have Tony Bennett in concert, young Carrie P. playing cello in our backyard on beautiful spring day, the late Tim Thompson (a friend) on the banjo, a guy who plays guitar and sings the blues at a farmer's market, the Richmond Folk Festival back in its pre-coronavirus glory, and a whimsical piano still on the easel - maybe waiting for Leon Russell or Chick Corea to wander onto the canvas to bang something out. Each one is a musical memory. Each one expresses my joy in music of all varieties and, I hope, the joy of the musicians who create it.

If you can't join 'em, paint 'em.

This painting dates back some 16 or so  years I guess. I think it serves as a fine jumping off point to chat about a variety of things.

1. CHEATING. Yes, I cheated on this. It is a full sheet watercolor (30" x 22" in portrait orientation) and the drawing of house and car are quite accurate. I am capable of drawing this well without aid but it takes blood, toil, sweat, tears, and the demolition of several erasers for me to get there. I haven't the patience, so I cheat. In this case with the help of the engineering company I once worked for, where I could plot photos large enough for me to trace on their light table then use a few other sneaky tricks to get everything in pencil correctly on the watercolor paper. I've also used projectors over the years, and my newest gizmo is a camera lucinda. Of course, I happily draw free hand whenever my subject matter doesn't demand such precision, and find that such paintings are all the better for it.

2. THE ANNUAL BON AIR VICTORIAN DAY PARADE. I live in Bon Air, Virginia, which has many wonderful Victorian era homes. On the first Saturday in May - at least PC (pre-COVID) and hopefully PP (post-pandemic) - the Bon Air Victorian Day Parade happens. It is a gloriously unorganized affair. Anyone and anything can participate in it, you just show up. Typically this includes cars of all vintages (a Mustang club is a usual), scout troops, church youth groups, high school marching bands, old firetrucks, theater groups in costume, Darth Vader and Storm Troopers, random folks playing brass instruments or violins, little league teams in uniforms, who knows? It's a once a year dose of Norman Rockwell and anybody who'd argue against that should be visited by ghosts on Christmas Eve. 

3. UM, THERE'S A GOAT? ON THE ROOF? Yes, this particular parade occurred during a time when colorfully painted goat statues hilariously unleashed themselves on the neighborhood during a "fun-raising" event at St. Michael's Episcopal Church. This particular goat still gazes upon Bon Air from the porch roof of this particular house, changing costume with the seasons. 

4. IT TURNED OUT WELL. I'm quite fond of this painting. There's always a challenge with such a busy scene having details in foreground and background. I can't say that luck didn't play a role in how it turned out, but patience and hard work did too...