I arrived in Taos in March, 1996, the week of my 29th
birthday. I was six months pregnant, escaping from a bad relationship with my
baby’s father, looking to start a new life. I didn’t know much about Taos, but
my dad had told me it was a perfect place to start over.
My father, David A. Leffel, and his partner, Sherrie McGraw,
took me out to dinner the night I arrived and we celebrated my birthday. They
introduced me to everyone at the restaurant, from the owners, to the waiters,
to the customers. They knew everyone.
I was sad for a few weeks after I arrived. Dad and Sherrie
gave me space and let me settle into my pregnancy, my new town, and my unknown
future, with patience, generosity, and more love than I felt I deserved.
Every morning, I sat with my dad for breakfast before
following him into his studio and watching him work, just like I did when I was
a little girl. But I was not a little girl anymore so I noticed different
things about his work and about him as an artist.
My father works with a fierce concentration. I have never
seen such focus. Even the air around him is sucked into a weird, powerful
vortex of intensity. Watching him, I never knew if what was happening on the
canvas was good or bad. I couldn’t tell by his face; all I could see was pure
focus. Until he spoke.
Sometimes it was, “Ah! Good!”
Sometimes it was,
"Damn."
Sometimes I got even more, like a “Look, Melissa—look how
beautiful that came out.”
At lunchtime, my dad sat in his backyard, face to the sun,
fully relaxed, breathing in the Taos air.
“It’s so much better here,” he told me, “so much better than
New York.” He didn’t need to say it. I already understood how connected he was
to Taos—to the mountain outside his window. I had already begun to feel that
way myself.
At dinner, he told jokes. For the record, my dad has been
telling the same jokes for years, and he laughs every single time, so hard that
no sound comes out and tears streak down his face. Usually the joke itself is
not so funny, but my dad’s joyful reaction and silent hysterics always made
Sherrie and me laugh until we, too, were in tears.
Soon after I arrived, Dad and Sherrie put me to work. Never
mind the pregnancy, they had me tilling the yard, watering the garden, and
taking care of their chickens. Never mind my lack of experience with a yard,
garden, or chickens (did I mention that I came from New York City?). On one
occasion, my father and I spent a half hour trying to catch an escaped chicken.
It was so absurd. We could not catch that stupid chicken. Dad was in hysterics
over the fact that we were being outwitted by what he not-so-affectionately
referred to as a “birdbrain.”
If you haven’t gotten this yet, my father loves to laugh.
And when he does, he is completely given over to it. If you haven’t gotten this
either, my father loves to paint. He is so completely a part of his art that it
is hard to tell where he ends and his paintings begin. They are one and the
same. And most of all, my father loves Taos. It’s where he laughs and where he
paints.
Every afternoon my father takes a break from painting. He
naps right on the floor of his studio. He doesn’t bother going into the living
room to lie on the couch. He stays right in the room with his canvas. The first
time I walked in and found him lying on the floor on his back, hands resting on
his belly, I thought he was dead. He was so still—so peaceful. Despite the fact
that I thought he had died, it was somehow a beautiful moment.
I looked up at the painting he was working on. It was a
landscape of a field, cows peacefully grazing, tire tracks marking the dusting
of snow that lay on the ground. It was beautiful. It was Taos.
Melissa, that took me back there.To Taos Thank you.
ReplyDeleteIt's 2016, and I just met your father for the first time at his retrospective show in Malibu. He is a gifted and enchanted man. I am thankful for his teaching. Many blessings to your family!
ReplyDeleteDavid is the kind of person that once you meet and converse with him, spend any amount of time, one finds themselves wanting to frequently call him to say Hi! He's a very much in demand and respect him greatly. EP Santa Cruz
ReplyDelete