My wife woke before the sun and had already put in a few hours work at the hospital by the time I too rose. I got up around seven, poured myself a cup of something hot, dark and strong from South America. I began to contemplate the day ahead. I pour myself another cup of the South American Brew. Coffee from Ecuador has a singular earthiness about it that is unmatched. I browse the local newspaper for signs of life "Is there any intelligence on this planet?" and examine my misgivings about the world, about political economies, about the sojourn that lay ahead... Friday, the day before the show, I had contemplated bagging the whole trip. I was feeling a bit low, my little one had the snuffles and an early winter storm was passing through. The weather was clear and dry now. My accountant would be off work around noon. The plan was that we would pick her up and fly up the coast to Gualala. The Studio 391 website says it is but 115 miles - a distance that I figured we could easily cover in a couple hours time. We would easily make the artist's reception from 3-5PM I thought.
As the morning progresses, I make waffles for the kids, check ebay, APUG, email and Paypal (had KEH refunded me that money for the bummer Nikon FA they sent me yet? - No!, grrr!). Time to pack up the car. Jackets, blankets, dog food, the travelling 4x5 kit, a bag of film holders and the new lightweight, compact tripod. I check the batteries in the light meter and toss in a spare - just in case. The kids, the dog, and we're ready to go...I dart back into the house for a bag full of snack for the road. Back at the car....the dog has escaped and is roaming the 'hood...arrrgh!
Now it was almost noon - we're behind schedule but, what's this? I am shaking, jittery, UPTIGHT! This is most un-natural. What is going on?....Oh, yeah, I had fed the kids but forgot to feed myself. Three cups of joe and a few oreo's have left me in a most unstable state. A programmer can suffer much but, even I need some normal sustenance from time-to-time.
I prepare a bowl of oats. I eat. We depart. We arrive at the hospital around 12:45 - we're late but it is good. Lori had more work than could be finished by noon anyway. We drop the dog at Uncle Tim's, in Novato ( I forgot to bring her leash and a discussion ensues). Finally we are underway again and head for the coast.....Petaluma, Bodega, Jenner, north and west we crawl...and then we arrive at at a fork in the road and a sign announces that only fourty miles remain in our journey.
Travelling up the rocky and wild California coast in the bright, mid-day sun and I am reminded of former journeys along this coast. In our days before kids, we travelled along this coast many times together. And the peace which cannot be fully understood by man o'er comes me. G-d himself is here. I cannot understand what draws me toward the Mendocino coast...but I, at least, am at peace - even as my accountant's fingers dig ever deeeper into my thigh as I pilot the car around each turn or close approach. "That's gonna leave a mark" I think to myself.
Finally, we arrive. I park the car. In the little dirt parking lot beside the gallery, she changes from her scrubs into nice jeans and a sweater and we head for the gallery door. It is something like 4:15PM. We're late but, we've not missed it.
Just inside the door, I see the familiar face. The gentle and kind face of a friendship briefly made a year or so previous. He receives a color portrait from a kindly local gentleman with an impressive beard. The instant, digital, color photos show Kerik's demonstration from earlier that day. A discussion of digital versus wet plate collodian ensues.
From the threshold of the gallery, I note that Kerik's work is everywhere. Each of the three expansive walls of the main gallery are filled with ethereal flowers in wet plate collodian. I am struck by the light. The little bits of light that only collodian seems it can capture....overcome, chuckling to myself, I think "and these are only flowers and bits of twigs in vases"....Amazing.
Moments pass, and it is our turn. We greet the artist as warmly as we dare in this society. His hands littered with the effects of silver nitrate solution, he is shy about shaking hands but un-deterred, we shake and I am aware of the presence of a gentle person. And the light from his work, little slices of sun creep from behind wilting flower petals and seep through the glass vases. It fills the room and my heart. The hostess offers me a glass of white wine. We exchange pleasantries and I take my leave. I move to the three walls and visit each of the floral portraits. There is much new work. Many I have not seen. There are a few 11 X 14's but the majority are 8x10s. All identically framed. I sip wine, munch crackers and cheese and drink in the light. I feast upon each tiny bunch or rays that peeking out from behind a leaf or branch, glowing from the varnished darkness that surrounds it...it is a lovely thing and I know that it is good that I have made the journey.
After a time, Kerik demonstrates the process...he makes it look easy. and I think that the crowd is fooled into believing that it is. He is a master of the craft. Quiet, unassuming and gentle, he even has me thinking it's easy for a moment. And I remind myself almost audibly, that I am watching a master. It's not easy I tell myself. He's just that good. We gather around the back door of his covered wagon - the modern day collodian dark room. Strong smells of collodian, ether and pure grain alcohol waft from the darkroom and all are amazed. The master shares an anectdote as he works and a happy chatter grows in the crowd and I slip into a dream. I'm watching William Henry Jackson on his journey through the west...
It is a lovely day, I am fortunate beyond measure and I am happy I came.
