Magical People

There's always one. No integrity. No character. No loyalty. Facts are facts. This is how I deal. 

 

Joy.

 

Sitting at my desk today I hear, "Debbie?!!!" 

 

I knew she was southeast, east, couldn't remember chocolate gravy or emeralds, Alabama or North Carolina. Then I remembered, chocolate gravy was a brunette. She is blonde. This is emeralds. My heart needed them today. Visiting with her and her husband calmed my soul. "Let us take you to dinner!" We are meeting for dinner. 

 

One of my dear talented designer friends is in town. We will meet for dinner, schedules permitting. I need her wisdom and counsel. 

 

I pray every day God will send the people I need. He honors this prayer in big and small ways, every day. 

 

Clients from San Antonio were in today. As we conversed, Texas A&M entered the conversation. "Go over to West Lives on Gallery. We bought a piece of art from him. He's an Aggie."

 

In honor of Independence Day, I was able to lock up shop at two. I drove over to meet R. Scott Nickell '81, geophysicist. Get out. 

 

This is a man who hated high school art. His wife, also an Aggie, encouraged him to take a sculpting class. And the rest is history. I want to touch everything in his gallery, the tactile part me, a big part of me. He graciously allowed me to photograph his work. I wish I'd had a notepad. I'm working off the few notes I tapped into my phone, and memory. 

 

The cowboy, Breaking Bad, takes my breath away, the detail. He personalizes the chaps with individual brands, bottom right. (His son named this one. Sometimes he doesn't have a name for a piece until driving to make the delivery!)

 

He collects brands. I have one or two in mind for him, must haves. 

 

My Rifle, Pony & Me was inspired by Rio Bravo. 

 

Nostalgia. 

 

I ask him, as he's giving me a tour, does inspiration hit at all hours, as it does writers? Indeed, at any time, any place. He gave examples, pointing out various pieces and how they came about.

 

He's generous sharing other artists' talents, those he features in his gallery. 

 

We both share fond memories of the Amon Carter Museum, and Remington. 

 

(Their son is also an Aggie; I forget the year. He's done some incredible work himself, quite accomplished I'd say.)

 

I want to write a detailed story, eventually. 

 

Ags, you can view his work at the Alumni Center and at the Chicken. 

 

I had to find joy today. A life sucker or two were out in force. My magic wand wasn't very helpful. Keep looking, Deb. 

 

Keep looking.

 

And then. 

 

Magical people appear. 

 

Thank you God.