Eventide

One of Julius Exter's many garden ladies.

One of Julius Exter’s many garden ladies.

As I sit at my little cafe on Gstadt’s water’s edge, savoring my last night in Bavaria, I can’t help but wax a little romantic in the waning sunlight. The gloaming has, for years, been the most evocative time of day for me. As the sun sets and the shadows lengthen, you know there just aren’t that many moments of this particular day left to enjoy. So you suck the very life right out of what remains. And on the water, this is the time of day when boats are only coming in to sore, not going out. Not to be maudlin or morose, but fighting cancer in my body has only intensified this sensation for me. A time of day I found perfectly lovely before has become a moment in time I refuse to miss. It’s the marrow in the knuckle. Then richest essence to fork out.

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I may miss new found friends, who, for a week, were my lifeline, or magical shores and islands barely investigated, whose abbeys, castles, fields and mountains restored my exhausted spirit and inspired not only movements of art like Julius Exter and his Munich Secession School, but my own simple oeuvres to come. But may I never miss, overlook or take for granted the rising or setting sun. I’ve been given more days to explore and create in this wonderful world called Earth and until the last lick is sucked out, I want to discover, paint and enjoy every bit of it.

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11 thoughts on “Eventide

  1. Welcome back! what an adventure! I wish only peace and tranquility for you and Jim. You so richly deserve it.

  2. Great post and great pic! I see some of Aaron in you and that makes my cup runneth over! Have a great trip home!

    Love ya

  3. Dear Bruce,
    I’m delighted to have discovered your website but saddened to learn of your challenging physical condition. Many of us have had an overload of such and can empathize. But the arts of living teach us that it’s the shadows that accentuate and define the light. You have delineated and expressed the very blessed thrill of our existence. As we look to the “Light” we are healed by the mystical truth that strength comes from casting out fear.
    The shampoo lady at the Bessay Salon reminded me to meet trouble head on saying, “honey, just don’t claim it.” Christ is our Healer, so be certain that you have many more days ahead of you than those others who have doubts. Indeed, your eyes have seen the shapes and substance of Life, yet there is so much exuberance in your heart just begging to keep you “artily enartened” for the coming years. We’re glad to welcome
    you back.
    Sincerely,
    Connie -& Manohar

  4. Bruce,
    When I was a young piano student, I collected antique sheet music. “In the Gloaming” was one of my favorites, not for the piece of music itself, but for the title and, inevitable, inspired reverie. The cover image, if memory serves, was a Gibsonesque young woman, contemplating sunset over a pond. Crickets, peepers and water gently lapping against a canoe are sounds as clear to me now as when I was 13 and gazing longingly at the cover art. Gloaming…ah.

    ~Denise

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