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“For Those Who Who Don't Know Jack” is a painting that finds its roots in vulnerability. The White Tailed Jackrabbit (which is actually a hare) changes color each year from brown in summer to white in winter. While this greatly improves survival chances in summer and winter—the periods when the change is complete—the time of transition is one of nervousness and caution with the hare constantly on the move. There is no safe place because the transition means the loss of protective coloring. There is no where to hide and danger abounds. Sometime, life feels this way. We find ourselves between places, not quite here but not quite there either. Staying focused and alert allows us to celebrate the transitions life brings and find enjoyment and inspiration on the journey.

The inspiration for this painting happened on a camping trip. We had enjoyed a day hiking and were relaxing around the campfire at the base of Guanella Pass, at the Geneva Creek Campground. The weather forecast had been good for the weekend, but anyone who lives in Colorado will tell you that the weather in the mountains is unpredictable and can turn on you. Sure enough, just as the sun was setting, the wind came up and the thunder began to sound in the distance. But it didn’t stay in the distance for long. As lightening began to streak across the western sky, our dog Mica’s extreme distress reflected our own unease. We knew it was time to drown the fire, pack our gear and surrendered the night to the storm.

Telling someone that they’ve gone down a “bunny trail” is a kind-hearted way to let them know they’ve gotten off track with a story they are telling. This is what we were trying to tell life the year this painting came to be. Everything felt chaotic, especially with family and work issues. We yearned for a break, a time to hit the open road and drive. But that was not to be. Instead, Tom found peace in painting about our yearning and I found peace as I watched the painting appear from a blank canvas. When he told me the title, I laughed in delight. It was our private joke about a year we were glad had drawn to a close, thankful we had survived the lessons it taught us.

Tom’s grandparents lived on a farm in rural North Dakota... During a visit in his early childhood a strong storm developed. Everyone was huddled in the house watching and waiting. Tom’s memory begins with hearing the twister rather than seeing it. As it approached, the strong wind tipped over the outhouse. To his horror, his mom and an older cousin ran out into the driving rain and blowing debris to set it upright. The distance seemed enormous to Tom and he tried to run after her. His grandmother had to hold him back. When the storm passed, everything was okay. A hay wagon had flipped over but there was no real damage. Yet the memory of his mom out in the midst of the storm shook the security of a very young Tom! He decided to commemorate the experience and “Vanishing Point” is the result.