Master Class with Christopher Parkening, August 1980
It's like this, truth is: it's looking out while everything
happens; being in a place of your own,
between your ears; and any person
you face will get the full encounter
of your self.
William Stafford, Tuned in Late One Night, from A Glass Face in the Rain, 1982
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDVS-EpJaDu4A3BX46BZRyXLwn9PIU3iEQms-uhoc13cwpsg64IlP-3Xa53GKKTtGu0tv8LLZX2uXZs9s4iC0-kfIP3w52mqhLjnjBqxzTKoIfl-AO4EgMAHEdfKBOpwjtgRelm7RVj5UI/s320/Parkening.jpg)
The "move" to Colorado draws closer and while going through stuff I found this photo of Chris Parkening from the master class at Bozeman, Montana that I attended in August of 1980. He is seated left of center in the photo, I am at the far right in the photo, the other guy I can't remember his name, I would have to look at the class recital program to find his name. I was a month from turning 18 and attending the University of Montana at Missoula, where I would major in music and changing over to theater my sophomore year. My parents drove me out for the class in their 1963 Plymouth Station Wagon, what a hoot that was! My mother took the photo, at least she didn't cut off any heads in this photo.
Snow today, slush, really and I will post photos of dismantling my shop for a move to Colorado.
happens; being in a place of your own,
between your ears; and any person
you face will get the full encounter
of your self.
William Stafford, Tuned in Late One Night, from A Glass Face in the Rain, 1982
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDVS-EpJaDu4A3BX46BZRyXLwn9PIU3iEQms-uhoc13cwpsg64IlP-3Xa53GKKTtGu0tv8LLZX2uXZs9s4iC0-kfIP3w52mqhLjnjBqxzTKoIfl-AO4EgMAHEdfKBOpwjtgRelm7RVj5UI/s320/Parkening.jpg)
The "move" to Colorado draws closer and while going through stuff I found this photo of Chris Parkening from the master class at Bozeman, Montana that I attended in August of 1980. He is seated left of center in the photo, I am at the far right in the photo, the other guy I can't remember his name, I would have to look at the class recital program to find his name. I was a month from turning 18 and attending the University of Montana at Missoula, where I would major in music and changing over to theater my sophomore year. My parents drove me out for the class in their 1963 Plymouth Station Wagon, what a hoot that was! My mother took the photo, at least she didn't cut off any heads in this photo.
Snow today, slush, really and I will post photos of dismantling my shop for a move to Colorado.
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