Joy, reverence, gratefulness and awe were some of the feelings I experienced while painting at Mission Valley Ranch, near Alma, Kansas. This experience on Father’s Day was meaningful for me because I had been dreaming of painting in the Flint Hills for years.
In my early days as a business reporter, I had written a story about Bill Hogue, a homebuilder and rancher, who owns the Mission Valley Ranch with his wife, Kathy. I had visited their ranch near Dover, but had never been to their ranch near Alma so this was a treat. The trip was arranged by Ye Wang, art professor at Washburn University.
Entering the ranch, I was thunderstruck by the huge vista over this land, we drove down into a valley, where I saw a house and two tiny cabins made of stone. Lots of Kansas limestone in these structures.
I listened to the wind, and the sound of leaves blowing, occasionally a cow mooing. Nature is so loud it’s like an orchestra if you listen to it.
Ye Wang set up his painting station on a road under trees near a creek. I wanted to be closer to the prairie with a view of the Flint Hills. My wife, Heather and I drove farther into the ranch, and then I set up next to an alfalfa field that was surrounded by rolling hills and trees. As I set up my painting station, several cows walked near me. It had rained the night before, but now the clouds were thinning out, and I felt the warmth of the sun.
Connected to nature, yes, that is the awakening point in my soul. I laid out a composition pretty quickly and started painting, feeling a sense of the forms and their values. I filled my canvas with deep greens in the forest, the light yellow green on the hillside, and the gray blue sky coming through the clouds, the intricate blue green alfalfa with a few weeds thrown in, including some ditch weed, all part of my painting. The grass on the road fell to a golden touch. My wife took a nap.
Reading the words of Abraham Joshua Heschel, I am contemplating his notion that we need to approach God with a sense of awe and wonder in order to connect with Him. It is not hard for me to approach God with a sense of awe because he created the universe and the stars and the Earth and this majestic land. His universe is still being created. His artistry is in full scale production, on Earth and in the far-reaches of the universe, where new stars are born. But most people would not be contemplating this idea — God as artist — because they have their heads buried into their phone, watching reels on Instagram.
“As civilization advances, the sense of wonder almost necessarily declines,” wrote Abraham Joshua Heschel, in Thunder in the Soul. “Such decline is an alarming symptom of our state of mind. Mankind will not perish for want of information, but only for want of appreciation. The beginning of our happiness lies in the understanding of life without wonder is not worth living. What we lack is not a will to believe but a will to wonder.”
Nature exhibits this sense of wonder and curiosity. A hummingbird flew toward me, hovered and checked me out. We locked eyes and then he flew back into a tree. Insects continue to fly into my space, I’m afraid they are doomed if they get into my paint. I shoo them away.
Heather and I enjoyed a picnic with cold fried chicken, grapes and chips. My painting was nearly finished. We went for a walk along the ranch road, the alfalfa field on our left and a hillside with trees at our right. Multiple paintings could be had in this moving landscape.
On the way out, we stopped to look at Ye Wang’s painting. This man is brilliant with brush and paint. He chooses the best compositions; his painting of the road and creek under the trees is magical. Heather took our picture together.
Heather and I drove through the hills and took a selfie at the top of a hill southeast of Alma. I am immensely grateful to Bill and Kathy Hogue for letting us visit their ranch. And thank you Ye Wang for arranging this special day.
That night, I slept with superior contentment. In the morning, I felt a rapturous thrill waking up and thinking, how lucky for me, I get to enjoy another day. With a cup of coffee in hand, I walked through my garden into my shed/art studio, where I touched up my landscape painting.
I look at my composition, it takes me back to the subject. It's a reminder of that wondrous mystical encounter in the Flint Hills.
