Out of the blue I thought about Ben Dale a few days ago. " Where is he?" I wondered. I have not seen him for at least a year, maybe more. I've known Ben Dale since I first moved to Bisbee fifteen years ago. Or I should say I've "known of" Ben Dale - I didn't meet him right away. I met him after I'd been in town for about six months. We had mutual friends that knew him from art school in Boston, and me from repping their art work. They introduced us, and we hit it off instantly. Ben owns one of my most personal and irreverant pieces of artwork, and I have commissioned him for various project over the years. The last time I got to hang out with Ben was during the filming of The Bisbee Cannibal Club at my house. There were about 4 of us sprawled on my bed smoking some killer bud from Austin. I believe the rest of the crew was dismembering someone in my dining room. We had a great, lengthly, philosophical conversation which of course I can't remember (I couldn't even remember the day after - let alone now!).
I can't even tell you what prompted me to wonder about Ben - where he is, and what he's doing. ...it was just suddenly there. It was just a feeling that something essential had gone missing, and in my internal subconcious inventory of friends I realized it was Ben. For those of you who are not blessed with the knowing of Ben Dale, I will tell you a few things. Ben is tall, slender, and has brown eyes that when focused on you give a sense of vulnerability, a sense that he gets the joke before you've told it. You will not have any secrets from Ben. He's an old soul. He is one of the most gifted artists I've ever been blessed to know. His artistic heritage is strewn across Bisbee. The post office bulletin board. The bus stop at City Hall. The gates at Goar Park. The copper angels off of Subway Street. ETC.
I once had the most horrible blind date of my life in Bowie, AZ. I walked into a house that had no functioning floors or toilet, and what I noticed was the doors. It was obvious to me that they had been painted by Ben Dale. It was the only redeeming factor of my blind (and shall remain nameless) date - the only thing I remember fondly. My date proved to be an egocentric loser has-been (who was much too old for me), but I have to admit he had great taste in doors. I wish he'd valued indoor plumbing, and solid floors as much as he did his doors, but se la vie.
I digress. I walked into "Your Thrift Shop" this afternoon. Unless I am on my way to St. Elmo to work, I cannot drive past the local thrift shop without stopping. It's an addiction worse than cigarettes. This also explains why I am not currently able to walk into my garage. Anyway, when I turned the corner into housewares there he was carefully inspecting an antique toaster. Not the electrical kind. The kind you set on a wood stove, a gas burner, or a camp fire. I did not say anything. I just stood there, and took him in, trying to figure out if he was a figment of my overactive imagination. He stood in the isle quite oblivious to me, being caught up in his inspection of the toaster. Suddenly he paused, stood still for a moment, and then turned to look at me. A slow smile spread across his face and revealed a gleaming gold tooth that was unfamiliar to me. Ben Dale with a pirate aspect - nice!
So there was missing in action Ben Dale. In much the same flesh I'd last seen him in. Still tall and slender. Same soul penetrating eyes. Only the gold tooth was different, and he seemed to be carrying a bit more of the weight of the world on his shoulders.
We exchanged the usual niceties. How are the kids? Where are you living? What are you doing artistically? We discussed politics briefly. George sucks was the general concensus...neither one of us is happy about the state of world affairs.
I was quite disappointed to hear that Ben is not doing his artwork. He is currently living in Double Adobe, caring for his family, building a house, and tending to their goats, chickens, ducks, etc. He seems happy. I couldn't help but feel sad that someone with Ben's genius for art was not using it. He says it doesn't pay, and I've known that to be true. In a bad economy the first thing people can live without is art. It's true. It's still sad.
Well this is my first blog. I just wanted to say how happy I was to see Ben. Glad that he is happy, and finding peace as a father, husband, and farmer. And I guess I want all of us to wonder when we pass by his legacy of art scattered throughout Bisbee - why someone this talented is not able to sustain a living as an artist? I find it mind numbing that Ben Dale has restorted to being a farmer because being an artist doesn't pay, while boys in the NBA are making millions of dollars. Can someone please explain this to me?