Blue Highway

I just returned from a trip to Cincinnati OH where Miller Gallery www.millergallery.com is hosting a show of my work along with artist/illustrator Gary Kelley and British sculptor Mark Hall.  The trip north from Orlando got old decades ago.  Nine hundred miles of tedium on Interstate 75 punctuated by schedule-crippling traffic jams, (yes, I'm talking to you, Atlanta).  And yet there are always beautiful places you never seemed to notice and memories to relive. 

Compared to today's interstate sprints in hermetically sealed gps ipod sirius bluetooth and usb equipped SUV's, my childhood family trips from Florida to Kentucky were real adventures.  Only a few segments of I-75 were complete for speed runs between congested 2 lane roads.  And these roads led through every little town along the way.  Cars weren't reliable like today, air conditioning was still for the wealthy, and fast food had not come to the backroads of the south.

While it's all freeway now, this week's trip was hampered by a landslide in the mountains of Tennesseee.  All trafic was sent on a 40 mile detour, a winding two lane moutain road that parallelled a river valley with cool meadows and wonderful fresh smells.  This was the road of my childhood trips. Mostly unchanged and probably wondering where I have been all these years. 

No, I don't miss being carsick from swinging back and forth in the back seat for hours on end, and I have grown to expect the comfort of mediocre food at every interstate exit, but I do occasionally miss the beauty and mystery that makes up the blue highway.  Aerosmith was right, or was it Emerson?   Sometimes it's about the journey.

Barbara Miller

As artists, this week we lost one of our advocates and supporters. For years, Barbara Miller ran Miller Gallery in Cincinnati http://www.millergallery.com/ She and her husband Norman founded the gallery in 1960 and have grown the business while keeping it in the family ever since. Miller is a place you feel welcome when you come in the door. They have always emphasized the love of art without the snob appeal.

Barbara retired about the time I came into the fold, but on my delivery trips, she would often be in the gallery and make me feel all important by making a big fuss over my work. When I had openings, she was there, looking radiant, lighting up the room with her smile. Everyone in town seemingly knew Barbara Miller. I tried to stand next to her to catch some of the glow.

She hadn't been there my last few trips. I was told she was fighting against tough odds to beat cancer. While she ultimately lost the battle, Barbara left a legacy for us all to take stock. She and her husband dedicated themselves to build something that has benefitted not just her family and staff but us as artists. And they worked to give back to the Cincinnati community. We shouldn't take people like that for granted.

The gallery remains in competent hands with Gary and Laura Miller Gleason, and a great staff led by Rosemary Seidner. I know they will make sure the gallery has the future it deserves. I hope my paintings will still catch some of Barbara Miller's glow when they hang there.