Time & Time Again

I write about cycling more than other topics because, as my favorite hobby, it's natural that I'd meet a disproportionate number of friendly people who share my passion for the sport. Sometimes, I hesitate to write again about a kind & thoughtful cyclist, because it seems that I write about those folks too often.

But then ... again ... another cyclist does the nicest thing. Today's Mr. Nice Guy goes to Matt, an acquaintance who coached me on the nuances of Criterium racing. He offered to ride with me, to teach me techniques out on the road, but I have a tight schedule, so we just met at Starbucks, where he drew diagram after diagram at our little table. For one brief hour, I listened carefully and soaked in as much of his expertise as possible. What a generous gift. Now I'm prepared for Saturday's race. And once again, I am blessed.

Considering ...

Hey, so what do you think of modern art? I think some pieces are pretty cool, while others lack inspiration. Of course, art is a very subjective thing, but really? a plastic hangar glued to a board? the museum paid for that???

I really don't get that hangar glued to that board. That's not art. I could have done that. My brother likes to say, "But you didn't." To which I respond, "I would have, if I'd known the museum wanted to pay for it."

So there, now you know the sort of art patron I am. Not altogether "open".

Recently, though, I decided to challenge myself, to open up and learn about Abstract Impressionism and Abstract Expressionism. I plan to consider both  movements with an open mind, to not dismiss them the way I dismiss the hangar glued to the board.

Toward that end, this week I arrived early to the Members Only Preview of the museum's new show, Theodore Waddell's Abstract Angus. Mr. Waddell is a local artist who combines western and abstract art. Think: soft colors and wide brushstrokes that makes you hum, "I've been through the desert on a horse with no name ..."

I was alone, staring into the gallery of white works splotched with black blobs, wondering, would anyone else join me? Within five minutes of the opening, the space was overflowing with people, all so unlike myself. They were all so excited and so enthusiastic about Waddell's show. They were talking and laughing and ooh-ing & aaah-ing and I let myself enjoy them and the art they admired. I talked to several people, some artists, some not, all inspired.

.

Theodore Waddell, Motherwell’s Angus, 1994. Denver Art Museum

His work is inspiring. So far removed from the hangar glued to the board, his angus are clearly (okay, not so clearly) angus on snow-covered landscapes, soft, inviting.

Today's toast is to people who brush paint on canvases, wide strokes, thick blobs, dribbled over with gallons of turpentine. And to those who nudge me to enjoy those paintings with them.

Grace Under Pressure

As my husband and I walked off the plane in San Francisco, we glanced at our watches. We had less than an hour to get through immigration, retrieve our luggage, walk through customs, and then re-check our luggage to Denver. And then race through the concourse for our flight home. We could do it, but time was not on our side.

And then it became apparent, neither was United Airlines. Our flight from Seoul, South Korea and another flight from Frankfurt, Germany was greeted by one, just one United Airlines employee.

We stood in line with over one hundred international travelers and watched that one employee as she graciously processed each one of us. Because there was only one employee, we were all very, very delayed. That in turn complicated her job by causing her to re-book each traveler on a later flight.

Our cramped line, filled with exhausted travelers, was anything but pretty. We were mumbling and grumbling and oh-so less than pleasant as the minutes turned to hours. And yet she remained gracious as she worked diligently to send us on our way.

Here's to one United Airlines employee, based in San Francisco, who had at least a partially lousy day last week. Your grace under pressure impressed me in that moment, and for days now beyond ...

Behind Bars

Yesterday I found myself talking with two female employees of the Colorado Department of Corrections. I was curious, what were their positions at the DOC, and what was it like, working behind bars?

They both work directly with inmates, and they talked & talked & talked ... about Ms. Smith and Ms. Jones and a host of others, about their reasons for incarceration and the way that they live in prison. It was fascinating to hear of a woman, a former professor, who shot her husband when she learned he had molested their daughter, and others whose stories were disturbing, yet not too far beyond my imagination.

I was most surprised and most impressed by the respect that these guards have for the prisoners. Yes, respect. The way they spoke of the inmates was so far removed from the portrayal of prison life in the movies; these two women clearly care - passionately care - for the people who reside in their prison.

If you are like me, you rarely if ever think about that other world, removed and yet part of our world. Today I was honored to catch a glimpse of the mystery that is life behind bars, and I was left with profound gratitude, both for the (imperfect) system that protects our society, and two compassionate employees who add a large measure of dignity to those who must live there.