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It was a surprise to me when I started receiving artistic creations from my guests that were inspired by their
stay here at the Surgeon's House. After some consideration, however, it seems a very natural reaction. The house,
grounds and gardens are so very lush and beautiful that they were bound to stimulate folks of an artistic persuasion.
Above, you see the work of local artist, Mark Hemleben. Mark specializes in "plein air" canvases of Jerome and the
local environs. If you would like to see more of his work, click on the following link:
Mark Hemleben.
Not all of the artists were inspired to paint or draw. Some, such as Marty Cohen, were moved to write. The two following pieces
were written by Marty when he stayed here in May of 2010.
Koi
Koi are colorful oversized mongrel gold fish
Colonies of clown-faced painted mimes
Swimming in man-made pools
Each uniquely wrapped in multicolored scales
Bearing names placed upon them
By the lady who cares.
She talks with those sucking at the water’s surface
Splashing, reminding her it is time to be fed.
They yearn attention.
They try to speak.
She dips her hand into the pool,
Into the churning water,
Feeding each carp by hand.
Like the kiss that lingers,
They suck the food from her fingers.
Once sated, returning to a calming swim,
Each strokes the other’s belly
With their dorsal fins.
Brushing fins in fleeting handshakes
Affirming the fact they were heard.
The lady listened.
Aah, the life of the Koi.
The Stone Rabbit
The roughened red-gray rock was spied amidst what appeared to be a pile of multi-shaped shards and rocks left over from the
construction of the old retaining wall. It was wedged within a nook, a crevasse, a hollowed out area. Crumbling chunks of
mismatched painted pottery had fallen around the rock.
The structure had been a part of the old white plaster-over-brick walled home, built on the once carved out terrace in the side
of the mountain. The gray flagstone patio covered what must have been the final construction site for the house built in 1916.
A small garden of hosta, dracaena, and violets were shaded beneath a large sumac tree. Robins hopped about the small grassy
lawn strutting and boasting their red chests. Warblers and nuthatch flitted in and out of bushes. Red-headed, yellow-bodied
western warblers flew back and forth among the treetops. The beating wings of darting hummingbirds and the higher pitched
sound of bees filled the air like a bull war’s droning.
Fragrant white alyssum, orange-yellow petalled gazinia with its regimented brown-black ring of spots and rose-pink phlox
surrounded the base of the rubble pile. Reaching down, I pried loose the rock and turned it over in my hands. It was not a
stone but rather a carved ceramic rabbit. It had been kiln fired but never painted. Though the face was now worn smooth,
I could make out ears, large floppy ears, stretched backward along its back. The base was round. The right front leg was
chipped away and where there had once been a tail had crumbled to sand and dust long ago.
I turned to study the nook from which the rabbit had been plucked. A small rotting, graying, white wood frame lay at the base.
Pieces of glass, no pieces of mirror, were there. The wood frame had been part of a dressing table mirror. Yes, there was the
handle, shaped to fit in a young child’s hand.
My curiosity was now getting the best of me. Feeling about the niche in the stone wall, I dusted off the base with my index finger.
Beneath the broken glass and wood was a piece of hardened but brittle paper. It was triangular, two sides straight and one
irregularly worn. The piece of what must have been an old black and white photograph showed only a small portion of long light
gray tresses. I imagined they belonged to a fair haired young girl, just about the right size to hold the mirror. No face,
clothed body or depiction of the environs in which the picture was taken, remained.
Carefully I flipped over the last remnant of the image. There appeared to be some sort of writing. Only a few bold shakily scrawled penciled letters remained. I could barely make out the faded lettering, but in one corner there was a capital “T”, and next to it a small “o”. A large “A” followed. Beneath the “T” was a small “w”, and beneath the “w” was a large “L”. That is all I could make of it.
I placed the items back into the hollow from which they had come. The once thought pile of rubble and rock was all that remained of what must have been a very crude altar, a memorial, built into the rock retaining wall. Many questions came to mind. Who for? What for? When? Why? I could only guess at answers. Many tales came to mind. But once more I can attest to the fact that following a rabbit down a hole can lead one to a story of wonder.
This very short story was written while enjoying a mug of hot morning java, sitting in the garden of The Surgeon’s House, Jerome, AZ, May, 2010.
A French lady took a photo of Mister one morning with an old Polaroid camera. She didn't think it would translate to the net, because, as she said,
"C'est une reve . . . ". We decided to put it up anyway. Dream away, Mister . . .
Tamara Carroll, donated this beautiful painting of the house. She has her own website:
Tamara Carroll - Painter at which you can view and buy her other
work. Her painting has become a favorite of my guests.
Another fine artist, Pama Peckham, normally a painter(see example directly above) whose work can be found here:
Artists Register, was moved to take the following photo
of the wysteria that hangs over my front porch.
It seems that the wysteria moved more than one artist. Well known photographer, Dale O'Dell, presented me with three
beautiful 8.5" by 11" mounted photographs, one of which can be seen below. If you would like to see more of Dale's
work, click on: Dale's Photos.
Jim Fox and his wife Mary Alice stayed with me just after New Year's. We had received a very beautiful snowfall that night, and Jim, who had taken up painting in water colors just recently, felt compelled to paint my house in snow. I
have to admit, it's very magical when it snows in Jerome.
Binu and Amy Jacobs visited me on their fourth wedding anniversary and took the lovely photographs below. I think
that you can feel their love and joy in these images.
 
 
 
Don Feher sent the photos below.
Another sweet guest, Mari Bailey, graced my guest book with the charming drawing below. You can see that Mister
Mister and Jamima Pearl make cameo appearances.
David Pool sent the beautiful flower photos below.
 
 
I will be continually updating this page as the new contributions come in, so be sure and check back to see the latest
art inspired by the Surgeon's House.
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