Dear Bob and Rebecca,

The following is an e-mail I sent to friends in an e-mail group that don't know Jim and Scottie. I thought you might like to read it. I'll be driving down to Baltimore this weekend.

Take care,
Gary

Recent events have reminded me of a video I produced years ago as part of a series called ARTWORKS. This particular program focused on a traveling exhibition of paintings from the 17th century entitled "Dutch Masterworks from the Bredius Museum: A Connoisseur's Collection." Among other things, the program dealt with the use of vanitas in several of the paintings. A vanitas painting contains objects that are symbols of the brevity of life and the transcience of earthly things, objects such as a snuffed out candle, a skull, an upturned glass or musical instruments - before sound recording was invented nothing was more evanescent than musical sounds.

Also, to express the idea of the transitory nature of life, items would be precariously placed to create tension and a feeling that something is about to fall, i.e. a delicate glass vase sitting at the very edge of the table.

While the Dutch were very aware of the brevity of life, or perhaps because of that awareness, they had a great zest for life.

This brings me back to recent events. Margaret's brother-in-law, Jim Wiest, is 49 and a person who has a great zest for life. Consequently, when he was recently told he had cancer, he immediately had friends and family called and we all gathered for what Jim called his cancer party. He wanted it to be a party because, as he explained, he didn't know how long it would be before he would be able to party again. The occasion was infused with positive energy, energy and love that helped Jim prepare to face the edge on which he was being placed.

Between sessions with doctors and various tests at the West Virginia University medical center Jim was reading the market report to check how his stocks were doing. With his usual sense of humor he commented that this situation gave him a whole new perspective on long term investments.

The tests showed that he had a very rare form of cancer and was informed that the WVU center did not have the ability to offer any treatment. They predicted he had between 6 months and 2 years.

Jim and his wife, Scottie, found other avenues to walk down. The doctors at Johns-Hopkins, after running more tests, offered some hope and surgery was scheduled for the following week. That Sunday friends flew Jim and Scottie to Baltimore and family members arrived by car. That evening we walked around Fell's Point which was brimming with activity and life - street vendors, shops and sidewalk cafes, people flowing in and out and round about to the live music that overflowed from open doors and windows.

Drifting through the streets we passed in and out of currents of jazz, rock, and folk until we arrived at Bertha's where we were enticed to "Eat Bertha's Mussels". Jim had watered at this hole on numerous occasions in earlier times when Baltimore was on his arts and crafts circuit. He was anxious to share the experience with us. After the joyous construction of a mountain of haphazard mussel shells and the final swallow of hand pumped stout was sighed away we walked along the waterfront and finished off a roll of film with many combinations of family portraits.

On Monday Jim underwent extensive surgery that lasted over 12 hours. We had taken him to the hospital early that morning and they started his prep at 6:30 a.m. They rolled him out of surgery at 9:00 p.m. that night. The doctors felt that the surgery had gone well. The next morning Jim was awake and able to talk, by that evening he had gotten out of bed and walked about 50 feet. The following morning he suffered a severe stroke which has left him paralyzed on the right side and unable to speak. The long range prognosis is uncertain.

Yesterday someone walking by my office stopped, stepped in, and moved the planter that holds the delicate Norfolk Pine which sits on the bookcase next to the door. When I looked up they turned to me and said, "I was just moving your plant back, the pot was sitting right on the edge." "I know," I replied, "I placed it there as a reminder."

Gary