Thomas Kinkade, Haunted Painter of Light

I was surprised to read that Thomas Kinkade, "Painter of Light," had died at age 54. It seems only yesterday I was in the Thomas Kinkade Gallery at the Fashion Show Mall in Las Vegas, ambling through fantastically homey landscapes in pink and blue pastels. Quaint brick houses with sloping straw rooftops and fresh green lawns dotted with lazy horses under a perfect blue sky. A yellow brick road dappled with autumn sun. A lighthouse standing sentry beneath a splash of coastline. A stone house frosted in snow by a lightly frozen river, and standing by the river, in a ring of luminescence, a pair of deer. All the windows in all the houses in all the landscapes have the glow of a magical hearth, as if lit by heaven itself. Everything in Las Vegas glows, but not like Kinkade's paintings. The light in Las Vegas is temporary and utilitarian in its showiness. There is nothing in its glow that feels so everlasting as the light of Kinkade, save the sunset over the valley.