For the love of art

One of my best friends is married to this guy, this rugged outdoorsy activist kind of guy. He's also an incredible painter. And I can't stress the incredible part enough. I've been a long time admirer of Chris Peterson's work. I gawk at it each time I'm in their home because it's all over their walls like a fine art gallery. I even managed to swindle him into letting my office borrow a painting for our waiting area. So there's that, which leads me to this. For several years, I've been asking Chris to paint an abstract cityscape of Salt Lake City. And for several years he would not.

Being the conservationist that he is, Chris typically paints landscapes and symbols of the Great American West; the guy has literally been to every nook and cranny of the Great American West. Granted, I was asking for something a little bit out of his comfort zone; concrete and steel. However, I knew Chris was the only one that could give me what I wanted. He was the only one who could paint how I feel about this beautiful place where I live: my Beehive city cradled perfectly beneath the ever present Wasatch Mountains.

So I persisted. Every once in a while Chris would entertain the idea and get me all worked up like a kitten who has just spotted milk. And then? Nothing. But he's an artist, and you know these romantic artsy types, they are fickle and emotional and they get very attached to their work to the point they feel it has somehow become part of their actual being. I majored in studying people like him. Essentially, I was asking Chris to slice off his ring finger and give it to me so I could mount it on my wall. I was all, dude, you have 9 others and I will pay you for it. Still, nothing. But finally FINALLY one day this summer he casually mentioned that he had started my painting.

I died.

Then I quickly came back from death {I know!} and have been on pins and needles ever since. At a summer BBQ he made the mistake of showing me a camera phone pic of a half-way completed version.

I died again.

It was perfect even incomplete. I would have taken it home right then and there. But no, I had to be patient and wait for the artist to work it over, and re-work it until it had reached that acceptable state of amputation. Every once in a while I would hit BD square in the chest and ask "Do you think he's working on it right now? Do ya?" He was. We've been anxiously waiting for the painting to be complete and on Sunday...we got the call. The final product? It speaks for itself:I mean, come on. Have you ever seen anything so divine? Words nearly escape me when I try to describe how this painting makes me feel inside. On the outside, screaming and jumping and hugging and crying and Chris' red embarrassed face barely nick the surface. The best part is that it's painted on a door. And yes, that's a racquetball moon. I told you it was awesome. I'm beyond pleased with it. Thank you, Chris.Chris will be showing this painting, along with his other recent works, at Poor Yorick's Fall Open Studio on September 25-26. Come check him out!Oh, and how is Chris' finger you might ask? I've had to gently remind him that things worked out pretty darn good for van Gogh in the end.