Lights and Darks in the Berber Home

I went hither and yon throughout the local art scene in Salt Lake City today. I met two local masters, with kind introductions from my dad's wife, Janet.  She had taken classes from them and she was still remembered. The local art heros welcomed me into their studios, seemed fascinated at the news I had been living and teaching art in Morocco. They wanted to hear my story and seemed to have all the time in the world.


We also went to an art supply store, an artist's second home, and breathed more easily because we were by our supplies for creativity. There, one tries a new pencil, marker or new oil pastels. "Gee, I should get back into oil pastels," one muses. I got a few tubes of water color, some watercolor mask...not for my face, and a cool new brush. Brushes for artists are kind of like a new necklace or sweater or cozy slippers for others. With great remorse, we left the store without a new easel or ten tubes of expensive oil paints.


We also stopped into a eclectic art gallery filled with beautifully varied styles, and we met artists who had studio space on the second floor. The gallery owner was friendly and welcoming and very interested in hearing about Morocco. I shared about the art show I caught in Marrakech not so long ago.


Eventually, back at my dad's home, I slipped back into my world of the Berbers through watercolors.