What a nice day!  There was no one on my list today who was counting on me to show up anyplace or do anything, so I just made it up as I went along.

Last night, I had attended a fascinating presentation in a large, packed lecture hall at Willamette by the brilliant, droll and unpretentious art historian Roger Hull heralding the Manuel Izquierdo exhibit at the Hallie Ford Museum.  I think I audited every class Professor Hull taught after I moved to Salem and before he retired.   And in 2005, I spent a month in Florence under the guidance of him and his wife, the artist Bonnie Hull, and literature professor, my friend, the late Adele Birnbaum.  What an amazing adventure!

Since his retirement, Professor Hull has become the leading authority on the Spanish/Northwest sculptor, Manuel Izquierdo.

And was instrumental in bringing the show to the Hallie.

Last night was also the first opportunity to see Dr. Hull’s beautiful book, Manuel Izquierdo, Myth, Nature, and Renewal.

I had received an invitation to attend the opening of the show and the unveiling of the book immediately following the lecture, but I am not really comfortable in large, crowded gatherings with lots of noisy conversations and people balancing wine and hors d’oeuvres.  So, I just decided I would go back to the Hallie Ford this morning and have it all to myself.

But first, out in the garden with the dogs to find the handsome man’s birdbath frozen solid.

And one valiant rose in bloom, ironically named “Cinco de Mayo.”

Most unexpectedly, I was not able to park right in front of the Hallie, or anywhere nearby, and I could see why across at the capitol mall.  As is common on Saturday, a demonstration was taking place there.  I walked in that direction until I could see that many of the participants were toting big guns and carrying flags saying things like “Don’t Tread on Me.”  Ah, well. I was afraid if I joined them I would be tempted to tell them that while I certainly believe in the Second Amendment I just think that perhaps they might be interpreting it too broadly.  I wasn’t looking for trouble, especially with a lot of angry looking men carrying big guns.  And, then too, I didn’t think I might pick up a cute guy there either.

So I turned back toward the Hallie, walking by the beaver family whose water source was iced over too.

Here’s a view of the Hallie seen through one of my favorite trees.

Inside, I was greeted by my friend the artist Bonnie Schulte who is on staff there.  Here she is next to Izquierdo’s “Antelope Flower.”

I wasn’t the least surprised when Bonnie confided that she and the sculptor had been more than casual friends for a time in the Nineties.  In fact, I learned that he had spent time with her in the cabin on the hill where I lived when I first came to Salem and where Bonnie had lived before I did.

I can only take in so much at one time, so I spent an hour there and will go back many times before the show ends.