The first e-mail was polite. “It is time for your President’s letter for the Journal.”  I responded that I could not do it right then, because I was getting ready for Camp Brotherhood. The second e-mail was a bit more insistent about finishing the President’s letter. “Are you kidding” I responded. “I can’t do it now, I am at Camp Brotherhood.” The voice mail reminder today had a hint of pleading mixed with frustration. “But I have only just returned from Camp Brotherhood.”

 

Camp Brotherhood is the anchor of my summer, and in some ways of my year. I get to see old friends, find new ones, and make gravel from the new stone that I bought. It also gives me a fine excuse to escape from my other responsibilities in life to focus on art. We do not go there to fulfill these other responsibilities, though they do sometimes follow us. We go there to create art. The week at Camp Brotherhood was amazing as usual in that regard. I gulped in amazement to walk out of the dining hall and hear the grinders and chisels of 125 sculptors creating 125 unique works of art. What a wonderful world we live in.

 

Carve well, have fun, and be safe,