And if You Love the Sea, as I Love the Sea…

sunrise.jpg…I know you love the color blue, in all its variations!

Here’s an unfinished seascape start, but for this painting season I’m planning portraits.  I haven’t done children’s figures for years, so I’m excited–even if I have to wait for better weather (and finished tax work) to begin!

Ta-da!  Here’s my version of a tax sale:  I’ll pay US shipping!  These paintings are ready to varnish, available in May, 2018, with or without their frames, which are sold at cost.


Calm, Stand of the Tide

“Calm, Stand of the Tide,” St. George Island, FL, oil on canvas, 20×16, $345.88 framed (inc. IN sales tax)

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“Another Day at the Beach,” began en plein air at Ft Myers Beach, FL;  finished St George Island, FL, oil on canvas, 20×20, $408.95 framed (inc. IN sales tax)


Fish House

“Fish House,” Point House Trail, Upper Captiva, oil on canvas, 20×24, $308.16 framed (inc. IN sales tax).  It has an ivory and gold-tipped frame now, photo available.


Wild Weather

“Wild Weather,” Escondido Lane, Upper Captiva, oil on canvas, 20×24, $308.16 framed (inc. IN sales tax)

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“Spring Break Beach,” St George Island, FL, oil on canvas, 9×12, $164.17 (inc. IN sales tax)

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“Reclaiming the Beach,” Upper Captiva, FL, oil on canvas, 12×12, $200.56 (inc. IN sales tax)

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“Sea Grapes,” Escondido Lane, Upper Captiva, FL, oil on canvas, free trim frame, $322.60 (inc. IN sales tax)

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“Public Access, 10th & W Gorrie, St George Island, FL, oil on canvas, 12×12, $200.56 (inc. IN sales tax)


“Cold Spell, Fog off Captiva,” oil on canvas, 15×30, $322.60, free trim frame (inc. IN sales tax)


My blog has been used most often to celebrate the art of dozens of people since I started writing it, or to offer free plans for art supplies.  This time I’m showing my own recent work.  Please feel free to comment!

Oil paintings (and a silk scarf) completed by end of summer, 2016


Silk seascape scarf printed from image of “Northwest Front,” $40 including tax.

Paintings are not shown actual size;  please note a title and find its sizing, location, and price (with or without its frame) in the list below.


Bouquet of Locusts


Running down to the River


Lake Papakeechie from the Cloud


Flood Tide



Blue Squall


Spring Cleaning @ Hill House


Above the Frog Pond @ TC Steele


Wild Weather


Fish House, Point House Trail


Neap Tide one of two studies


Neap Tide one of two studies


View of Useppa


Cold Spell, Fog off Captiva


Ebb Tide


Dry Wash Stream


Cold Front


Autumn Winery

All paintings were started en plein air, and finished in studio.  Pricing is pre-professional, ranging from seventy-five cents per square inch for small paintings to 50 cents per sq. in. for ex-large.

All frames are at my cost (using discounts);  please feel free to decline the frame, and to find one that suits you and your home better!

Land and Seascapes
Above the Frog Pond, TC Steele, Brown County, IN, oil on canvas, 12″ x 12,” framed:  $199.41;  unframed:  $115.56.  Tax included.

Blue Squall, Crystal Beach, TX, oil on canvas, 11″ x 14,” framed:  $211.22;  unframed, $123.59.  Tax included.

Bouquet of Locusts, oil on canvas, Owen County, IN, 28.5″ x 26.5,” framed:  $990.58;  unframed, $762.70.  Tax included.

Fish House, Point House Tr., Upper Captiva, FL, oil on canvas, 20″ x 24,” framed:  $552.12;  unframed, $308.16.  Tax included.

Flood Tide, Port Aransas, TX (Mustang Island), oil on canvas, 11″ x 14,” framed:  $205.11;  unframed, $123.59.  Tax included.

Spring Cleaning @ the Hill House, Owen County, IN, oil on canvas, 24″ x 24,” framed:  $477.11;  unframed, $369.79.  Tax included.

Running down to the River Bottom, oil on canvas, Owen County, IN, 36″ x 44,” framed:  $990.58;  unframed, $762.70.  Tax included.

Lake Papakeechie from the Cloud, Kosciusko County, IN, oil on canvas, 20″ x 20,” framed: $427.71;  unframed:  286.76.  Tax included.

Mustang Island Cold Front, Port Aransas, TX, oil on canvas, 16″ x 20,” framed:  $264.41;  unframed:  $229.41.  Tax included.

Ebb Tide, Port Aransas, TX, oil on canvas, 11″ x 14,” framed:  $205.11;  unframed:  $123.59.  Tax included.

Autumn Winery, Owen County, IN, oil on canvas, 24″ x 24,” framed:  $477.11;  unframed:  $369.79.  Tax included.

Dry Wash Stream, Owen County, IN, oil on canvas, 10″ x 12,” framed:  $162.12;  unframed:  $96.30.  Tax included.

Wild Weather, Escondido Lane, Upper Captiva, FL, oil on canvas, 20″ x 24,” framed:  $544.07;  unframed:  $308.16.  Tax included.

Cold Spell, Fog off Captiva, Upper Captiva, FL, oil on canvas, 15″ x 30,” framed/unframed:  $322.61.  Tax included.

View of Useppa, End of Sol Vista Lane, Upper Captiva, FL, oil on canvas, 20″ x 16,” framed/unframed:  $229.41.  Tax included.

Neap Tide 1 & Neap Tide 2, Port Aransas, TX, oil on panel, 8″ x 10,” framed:  $82.20;  unframed:  $64.20.  Tax included.

All paintings will be given a week’s trial in your home.  No reproductions, please;  I retain my “reproductive rights.”  🙂  

Each oil painting is original work by Laura Lynn leffers.




































For Carver John Fisher, the Stone Sings

John Fisher, photo credit Amy Brier

( John Fisher, photo credit Amy Brier

Following is the full, original article submitted to the Herald Times newspaper;  first printed Sunday, May 17, 2015 in Bloomington, Indiana.

Five hundred years after Michelangelo recognized the beauty of the local marble, the townspeople in Pietrasanto, Italy, call John Fisher “Michelangelo’s brother.” He’s known, too, as Giovanni Pescatore, having earned his Italian name and credentials over decades of carving their statuary stone.

He returns to Pietrasanto every year, most often for ten or twelve weeks. He and his wife, Sandy Oppenheimer, lived twenty years and raised a daughter there, and John’s paintings and sculptures are scattered around the community and up into the foothills of the marble mountains. He is not alone. There are more carvers per square kilometer in Pietrasanto and nearby Carrara, it is said, than anywhere else on earth.

The village lies at the foot of the Apuan Alps on coastal, northern Tuscany. Here, he’s an artigianni, an artisan. When he arrives from the States, people come out of their shops to greet and welcome him, asking when they can get together for a meal. This year’s commission will see him laboring daily from early mornings until dark, as is the case each year. The time flies by, he says.

He begins by taking off thirty percent of the stone’s weight, removing as much as a ton of waste in a day using drills, wedges, a hammer. His strokes are varied but balanced, his thoughts are on composition, not images. “I am putting movement into the block,” he said, “and counter movements, accents, big strokes, medium strokes, and small strokes. It is like music—you must have a variety of notes.”

And then, when the stone sings to him, John Fisher is ready to listen.  He’s been expecting it, working to free that very voice, to let it guide his hand. He dances to its tune. He goes from “direct” carving to “profile” carving, moving five degrees at a time, finding his profile line and moving on again. Soon, he’s within a half-inch of finalizing the image within the stone, having used the skills his work demands: courage, passion, and patience.

John Fisher’s portfolio is eclectic. He works limestone as well as marble and wood, and paints in all media. He’s cast bronze, forged steel, blown glass, thrown pottery, and done etchings on copper and zinc. He’s built a house and a 30-ton, double-masted, ketch-rigged sailboat.

His journey to master carving status has been a freeform art.  Begun on the West Coast in his rebellious youth, flowing through his “back door” college days in Berkeley—until somebody discovered that he wasn’t actually registered—to a penknife and chisel sculpture on the East Coast made from a discarded block but providing his first art sale, the early days led him well.

In those years, Fisher found a master and mentor in Tom Blodgett, then an art professor at Lane Community College, in Eugene, Oregon.  John educated himself, and made a scanty living painting billboards on both the Pacific and Atlantic coasts. He lived in trees and, when he’d saved enough, he went to Italy and brought home two pieces of marble.

His path has been an organic one, the ancient concepts of design learned the hard way, by experience: composition, profile, balance, and the rule of three—an artistic concept similar to the golden ratio, or divine proportion.  Fisher’s students gain those skills, but are counseled as well to release their fear, to know that the unknown will become known. They learn to remove stone both safely and effectively and, more importantly, to find their own visions, to let the stone sing, to reveal itself. His approach is liberating;  It means there are no mistakes.

Symposium site, photo credit Pamela Keech

Symposium site, photo credit Pamela Keech

Bill Holladay, president of the board for the Indiana Limestone Symposium, took John’s figure carving workshop in 2014.  “It was a radically different approach,” he said, “scary, exhilarating, and inspiring, all at the same time.  He’s returning to teach this year’s advanced figure course in the third week, June 21-27, and I plan to register.”

“Creativity is a battle,” Fisher said. “It can drive you on past your bedtime, past your meal time. You have to be in the studio in order for the magic to happen, and you have to be working every day. You have to do that so you are always ready for the gifts when they come. They will come when you least expect them.

“I want to teach people to set the stage for creativity, learn the skills to take advantage of the gifts when they appear, to know when to stop, and when to push on. Composition is king, and no amount of good work can save a bad composition.  We train every day to be ready to act when the time comes. If you are not afraid then you are not going far enough out on the limb.”

Fisher’s carving master, Tom Blodgett, taught him to embrace creative danger.   “He believed that the creative act is one of desperation,” Fisher said. “It’s logical—if you’re doing something you know how to do, you can be very good at it, but you’re just repeating something you have learned before. However, when you really go out on a limb, when you have no solutions, when you are about to fail, that’s when adrenaline kicks in, and you pull out the creative act. Putting the whole project in jeopardy is the best way to make it a success.

“I’ll take a stone I’ve spent months to obtain and thousands of dollars to purchase, then blast into it using heavy machines with no idea what I am doing. Or paint a scene in the last light of day, knowing that the light is changing every minute. That is the way it feels to create.

“There is a time toward the end when you can slow down, and carefully carve or paint the finishing touches. But the bulk of the time spent creating is a near mortal battle. It’s why creativity equals desperation.”

And then, the stone sings.

Additional Information:

John Fisher has taught at the Northwest Stone Symposium, Stone Fest, and the California Sculpture Symposium, as well as for the Indiana Limestone Symposium. His numerous on-site carving projects—a kind of sculptural performance art—are community pitch-ins, with audience suggestions considered in every phase from concept through execution. He’s slated for an on-site carving project June 14th through the 20th, with proceeds to benefit the Symposium.

Visit for information on June’s Limestone Symposium schedule. Instruction is offered by the week or by the day to beginners through advanced carvers; children ten years of age or older may carve by the day.

By Laura Lynn Leffers, for the Indiana Limestone Symposium

How to make a wooden wet painting carrier

selfie with homemade wet painting box

selfie with homemade wet painting box

DIY:  Wet Painting Carrier

I needed a wet painting box that would travel long distance.  Inside a small boat, on a trailer, bouncing down a thousand miles of highway.  …And I wanted it to survive the trip.

Sure, there are commercial wet painting carriers available, and plans shared on the Internet for cardboard varieties.  Most of them, though, are for canvas panels, and I prefer the gallery wrapped, heavy-duty duck, inch-and-a-half thick canvases.

IMG_1113So, I made my own.  They’re the four boxes sitting on top of my first try, a lovely lightweight shelving frame that would have fit perfectly between the bench seats on the boat.  I was finishing it, when my husband asked, “Will that fit through the door?”


Back to the DIY Project (no need to dwell):  For panels, wood supports, or thinner canvases, you can adjust the spacing on the dividing rails to the width of your support–but do add a bit of wiggle room.

Here’s how:  Select Your Size of Canvas, and decide how many you’ll wantstructure_2_close.up to carry on a field trip;  for the inch-and-a-half thick type, a box made of 6″ wide boards (which are not really six inches wide but we’re not in charge of that) will hold three canvases each.

Procure Your Lumber (the small box shown on top is made entirely out of scrap 1×6 pine boards, but the larger boxes are made from lighter weight, half-inch thick poplar boards and quarter-inch oak panels).

Measure and Mark.  I kept it simple (nobody comes around, asking me for dovetails).  Both top and bottom were the width of the canvas plus a quarter-inch tolerance (or a bit less).  Both sides were the height of the canvas plus the depth of the top and bottom boards.

I cut the wood and held the side board against the bottom board on a flat surface, drilled holes, and screwed each into the edge of the bottom board.

Dividers.  I used 99-cent, quarter-inch basswood from Michaels to basswood_divider_close.upmake rails along both sides.  There was just enough room for my three inch-and-a-half deep canvases, three basswood rails, and a bare eighth-inch extra in each space.

I plan to lay the boxes flat in storage, so wet paintings will be “shelved” facing up, and that extra eighth-inch might minimize smearing or sticking on the long trips home.

basswood_dividerMark, Glue, and Tack Dividers.  I started by laying the first basswood rail along an edge of each side.  This rail prevents the top of the wet painting in that slot from touching the inside of the completed box.

Next, I measured and marked, and glued and tacked in the two remaining rails.

Once the other side had its matching rails, I tested the rail spacing, and let it dry poplar_large_lay.inovernight.



Only the two side boards received basswood rails.


Paneling is where I really slipped up, as you’ll see.  Theoretically, it’s simple:  cut your quarter-inch thin panels the same length, and your box will be square as long as your corners are square.

Ummm…  Maybe it was that quarter-inch tolerance, under “Measure and Mark?”

Moving on, it turns out that leftover window oops_wet_painting_carrierblind parts–the unused bits of wood squirreled away when a blind is cut down for a short window–make nice shims.  One could, uh, use shims.

Glue and tack as needed to correct any mis-steps which might cause one canvas to want to fall upon its neighbor.

If this is the case, use the slimmest possible shims.  …And, before the glue dries, make sure the canvases still fit in their slots.  Better yet, re-think my quarter-inch tolerance!

IMG_1109Finishing with stain and varnish was important to me because of the abuse I expect to heap upon these boxes.

I used leftover porcelain knobs from a kitchen project, plastic cable carriers as turnbuckles for the lids, and sewed some old webbing to brass D-rings to serve as straps.  For salt-water painting sites, I bought stainless steel screw-in tie-downs and stainless steel screws, but the SS snap hooks for the straps are costly.  I bought only one set;  the others are plated.  Brass snap hooks would work around salt water, but the hardware stores in my area are selling bronze in place of brass.  I’ll expect to replace the plated hardware.

Travel safe!

How to Make a Painting Pouch


Make your own painting pouches for presentations, transportation, or just for storing the frames you got on sale (the ones for those paintings you haven’t yet finished).

I happen to have fabric remnants because I made market bags (like this), once upon a time.  But you can repurpose old drapes, Red.Indianuse an old quilt–if you have one you don’t mind cutting–or recycle a clean but beat-up canvas drop-cloth.

I had fabric remnants, and also some leftover, thick foam underlayment (the padding used under pool liners), and used it for all but one of the painting pouches shown above.  The foam-less one is the pink-flamingo-on-black pouch in front, on the floor in the photo.  It was made with a quilted lining instead, which makes it more washable but also more difficult to slide a framed painting inside.

The foam interfacing I use here isn’t necessary, but it does add a level of protection and this is a way to repurpose it.  (Do you know somebody who installs pools?)  You’ll want good, heavy fabric like cotton duck, if you eliminate the foam interfacing.

Measure your painting side-to-side, and add the depth of both sides;  do the same for the top and bottom.  Add a couple inches (at least) for seams to those figures, and find two pieces of fabric long enough, when folded in half, to fulfill those measurements and give you an inner and outer finished “bag.”

Here are a series of photos and simple instructions:

You’ll need an inner bag and an outer bag.  Cut two pieces of fabric;  fold both in half.  Cut corners; reserve corner pieces.

I cut these corners a bit larger because I wanted to cut the scraps in half lengthwise, and use the eight pieces for four handle straps.  Unless you have a very large frame, cut a smaller rectangle, an inch tall and an inch and a half wide (allowing for the side seams).  That one-inch cut upward translates into  the “floor” of the finished painting pouch–which, since the fabric is folded, already gives you a two-inch width.  After it’s sewn, you’ll be adding another half-inch, at least.

cornersCut a length of interfacing to a bit less than the length of the (unfolded) fabric;  fold in half and lay over your folded fabric.  Use clothespins to hold the fold temporarily.  Then cut the foam interfacing corners a bit larger than the fabric corners, to allow for seams (the interfacing will sit between two finished “bags”).

foam corner cuts


The hard part is over.  Or not.  Oops…



foam interfacingAfter the mistakes are corrected…mistake

(I had to remove an inch, and re-do.  I remembered that the foam sits inside two “bags,” and I had to allow for seams.)




Sew the side seamstack seam

Tack (sew down) the selvages.


corner reverseOnce both the inner and outer pouches are side-seamed and tacked, fold the four corners and sew each.

Turn the outer pouch right-side out.match corners

Fit inner (in this case, black) pouch into the outer (flowered) pouch, finding the corners and pinning them together.

pin in & out together(At this step, if your painting pouch isn’t huge, you can insert the foam interfacing into the outer pouch, insert the inner pouch, and then proceed with the corner seam.  For a larger pouch, it’s easier to sew the corners together without all that bulky foam already inside.)

corner seamSew the corners of the inner and outer pouches together.



fit foam 1Insert the foam interfacing, wrestling it into place between the inner and pouter foam 2

For this project, I wanted to use some unused purse handles from my bag making days, so I made straps from the fabric corners, which will be sewn into the top of the pouch.

strapsFabric straps are more practical, though, and easily made from leftovers of the same heavy fabric used for the painting pouch.  The large red painting pouch in the introductory photo uses the same duck canvas fabric for its handles, cut and sewn into two 32″ straps.  I rolled and sewed down the center of each strap for a comfortable grip handle, and set them into the top about eight inches apart.

These straps are set in about six inches apart at center, and the handle strapsinner and outer pouches are pinned together, starting at the side seams and working around the top.  Ease the interfacing down as you go, so it sits snugly between its fabric pouches.

Since I used snap hooks in this project (with visions of metal scratching a framed painting), I tucked the edge of the outer pouch deeper in before pinning everything together, allowing the inner pouch to come up higher.

finished bagLast step:  sew the inner and outer pouches together.  Sew it twice. Use a decorative stitch even, but do tack down the handle straps!

Seriously, a half-hour of cutting  and two hours of sewing.  I think it took longer to explain than to make!


IPAPA and the Wawasee Paint-Out

Art En Plein Air

Donna Shortt took this photo of the breaking day on July 13th, at Lake Papakeechie, from an upstairs bedroom at my family’s cottage.  Yep, up at dawn.  These IPAPA painters barely pause for breakfast.

She, Pam Newell, Dave Voelpel, Leanna Arnold, and I were there for the annual Indiana Plein Air Painters Association paint-out at Lake Wawasee, in northern Indiana.  IPAPA people dotted the area lakes’ landscapes for the event, thick as the threatening clouds.  They hunkered under sun hats, umbrellas, and shelters, undaunted.  When they couldn’t find an open (or free) lake view to paint they found flower gardens, street-view scenes of cottages, and crowded shoreside views peopled with the backsides of sailing students.

Try to say that a few times, and you’ll understand their frustration.

Pam Newell, "The Red Cottage," oil on panel

Pam Newell,, “The Red Cottage,” oil on panel

The site’s the thing–en plain air painters (think:  in plain air) need a place to stand for a couple of hours. That’s about all they need, they bring everything else with them.

Here’s hoping more Lake Wawasee residents open up their shoreside lawns, their unparalleled views, their access gates for these professional artists, next year.  Lake Wawasee can be a wild and wonderful model on a stormy day, and the weekend of July 12th was brilliant with weather.

Donna Shortt, "The Red Cottage," oil on panel

Donna Shortt,, “The Red Cottage,” oil on panel

The IPAPAs shown here were working  Lake Papakeechie (off the tail end of Wawasee), with its more intimate water views.  And at least some of the other IPAPAs found painting space near water–Saturday night’s pizza party, at the Wawasee Yacht Club, sported a few lake-themed paintings.  Despite the paucity of water scenes, easels wound around the yacht club yard, blooming with high quality impressions of flowers, boats, and grand old homes.  IPAPA member Dave Voelpel, in a reverent tone, called it “Museum quality work.”

Dave Voelpel at work on a watercolor

Dave Voelpel at work on a watercolor

Leanna Arnold, oil on canvas

Leanna Arnold, oil on canvas

The weekend event ended with a show at Lake Wawasee’s South Shore Golf Club on Sunday, July 13th.  Check IPAPA’s Facebook page for the next group paint-out, or go to the website at

Leanna Arnold and I are both new IPAPA members.  She took two of her fresh paintings for the pizza party’s  group display, while I left my one unfinished start at the cottage.  Her abstracted rendition of Lake Papakeechie, shown here, was received with interest.

Leanna painted a total of three canvasses on Saturday and Sunday.  Look closely at the photo of Dave and his watercolor, and you’ll see her painting on the dock, down by the lake.  Examples of her earlier work can be seen on this blog;  go to the January, 2013 archives.

Plein air painters somehow manage to get paintings finished and ready to sell inside a matter of hours.  From what I’ve seen in the few months I’ve been paying attention to these intrepid, on-site, outdoor artists, they carry frames with them and come prepared to deal with anything nature throws at them–including the art loving, art buying public.

Laura's hour-and-a-half start

Laura’s hour-and-a-half start

Here’s mine–an hour or so’s start.

Ah, but I was hosting.  Yes, that’s it.  I was a student last weekend, learning from these masters but not at all in their class.

One thing I’ve learned about painting in the open air is that I work faster, more intuitively.  There’s no time to wallow in angst.

But I need more time.  I’ll have to go back next year, and finish this one.












Dave Voelpel at work










Gladiola Bob and the Bloomingfoods Farmers’ Market

Gladiola Bob & Bloomingfoods Farmers' Market

Gladiola Bob and the Bloomingfoods Farmers’ Market

Last week, Bloomingfoods East, in Bloomington, Indiana, accepted—and hung—this painting.  I’d struggled to “get it right” for many years, and I was thrilled that the manager, Tom Zeta, and several employees received it with a gracious delight.

Why it all happened is a story that takes a bit more telling, but it started with the realization that a grocery store—which is what Bloomingfoods is, after all—is generous to its competition, allowing a farmers’ market to set up out front in its parking lot every single Wednesday of the long market season—for 34 years.

The painting features sketches of some of the farmers who offer their home-grown and/or homemade wares to the public at the Wednesday Market:  Left to right, Bob Wise (Wise Acres);  Jeff Padgett (Padgett Farm);  Chester Lehman (Olde Lane Apple Orchard);  and Marcia Veldman (Meadowlark Farm).

Six years and change have passed since I started this oil painting;  finding time to work on it and trying to capture its early morning spirit (and its tiny, dime-sized faces) proved daunting.  I worked from photos I took a year before Bob Wise—known as “Gladiola Bob”—died, and remembered his kind spirit each time I worked on it.

Now in its 34th year, according to Market Master Don Dunkerley and his partner, Jean Ellis, of Mountain Greenhouse in Bloomfield, Indiana, the Wednesday Market remains independent.  It’s a non-profit, co-operative venture, unconnected to the city’s Parks & Rec farmers’ markets. Dunkerley has been bringing his fresh produce and plants to this market since it began, and is grateful to Bloomingfoods for their support of local farmers.  “They’re so co-operative,” he said, “they help to keep a space open for us.”


large market bag

I was once a vendor at this market.  I’m a writer, with a few novels out under my pen name, Laura Lynn Leffers (.com), but I’d had a bit of trouble with my eyes, and started sewing market bags—focusing on a seam—until I had too many bags to foist on friends and family.  While I awaited a diagnosis (it turned out to be  blepharitis, a simple tear duct problem), this is the market that took me in, allowed me space, and gave me a positive outlet.

small market bag

small market bag

Eventually, Marcia Veldman, who sells produce and flowers at the Wednesday Market but is also the Bloomington Parks and Recreation co-ordinator for the big Saturday Market at City Hall, suggested that I apply to the Saturday Market’s monthly “A Fair of the Arts.”  I did, and enjoyed being an officially “artsy” market bag vendor for a time, while I worked through my vision problem.

It didn’t keep me away from the Bloomingfoods East Wednesday Market, though.  It’s accessible.  No queuing up, and waiting for the McCormick’s corn.  Jeff remembers the names of every single person he’s ever met (I’m sure of it).  There’s a cheerful, low-key, hard working midwest air about it.  Plus, you can finish your grocery shopping at Bloomingfoods.

Chester Lehman defines the 34-year collaboration between the health food store and the farm stands as “Mutually beneficial.”  Marcia Veldman explains it by saying, “Part of their mission is to support local farmers.”

Comanche brief bag

Comanche brief bag

I was grateful to be a vendor at the Wednesday Market.  And that explains the painting.