Thursday, December 31, 2009


On the morning of that first day I would come to the collection that the kingdom of my fore-fathers was no more than an old, broken bottomed, glass Coca Cola bottle lying discarded in the desert. Hecho in Mexico. Andy Warhol, you were right.

December 31, 2009. 12:40 a.m. CST

The moon shines twice.
Here. Blue to it they name.
Sequence compound with sign.
To the most compound,

Only among a time.
Light. Shines twice here.
anno Domini.

And death will flee from us all.


Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Narrative Apocolypto

Title link takes you to some more pictures I've been producing. This is of a line that I am continuing on to canvas.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Uvalde Leader News

The link goes to the Uvalde Leader News website where they shared a write up about some of my art. The article is toned down a lot as I think much of the information I gave the reporter was not even breeching her stratosphere. I'm grateful for the hometown publicity anyhow.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Alpine Public Library

This picture was donated to the silent auction in support of the new Alpine Public Library, November 2009.

Cow #20, acrylic on paper, 8in.x10in., 2009.

Friday, November 13, 2009


Hell Hounds of Redford, oil on paper, 2009.

When art is here too long....

When work is too long in the studio of art:
No matter how much the amount of it's grace;
It begins to cry out in the realms of the artist's six senses.
Pooring on.
Moaning like laboring pains of woman,
Spearing his heart with tears like the sound of hurting dogs.
Whaling in the echoes of his mind,
Like starving whine of cat.
Haunting him.
Bitter, like demons existing only in flight.
Even when they are given no light and put away,
They hide, seeking him out in traps.
From the even of the shadow they say,
"We are too many; destroy us, and you with it."

A poem by:


Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Link Memory Flood Recollection

Checkers was
anno Domini, a.k.a. Anomaly.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Today the Mountains are Ghosts in the Sky.

Scratch That Yesterday

Yesterday were winds of the Southern Gulf Coast and Pacific together.

The Winds of The Texas Panhandle have reached the desert.
All the way up from the north.
Dumping cold into Mexico
Air traveling along the Rockies.
The rain clinges to the windows.
That's long way 'round saying it's cold.
Calvary has arrived in the desert.
And up North too.

Brace Up Palo Duro

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Wind from The Panhandle

Air is blowing through the desert today undisturbed by the cracking mountains. Incurring dust to the air worthy of a blue northern sweeping its grasp from Rocky, to plain. The color of the mountains change their details with so much soil in the air. Suddenly, I am on the planet Mars.
And then no more,
Than the moment I am finished typeing,
That the Wind is gone.

Oct 2009.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Redford Texas October of 2009.

I am working on a desert precedence in which I've been inspired only by dream and subconcious 'til now. In the first books of the New Testament four men give their discription and testimony to the life of Jesus Christ, and what happened in His thirty three years. In these descriptions, each tell of a gentile, a Roman soldier, who pierced the side of the Messiah with an javelin tipped arrow and was subsequently covered by the blood at the foot of the cross. The actual spear he used, known as the Spear of Destiny, is of such an interest to me, that I am compelled to create my own versions of arrows, javlin, markers, staffs. And leave them to the desert. More to come on this, be sure to follow my video documentary; just click on the title above.


P.S, There will be pictures.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

More of It.

Doodly, pastel ans acrylic on paper, 12"x9", 2009.

Schematics of a Dead Cow, pastel and acrylic on paper, 9"x11.5", 2009.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Friendly Competition le Virtual Vide

The One From the East, pastelon paper w/acrylic seal, 12"x9", 2009.

The One From the West, pastel on paper w/ acrylic seal, 12"x9", 2009.

Friday, October 16, 2009


Untitled, graphite, pastel with acrylic coat on cardboard, 5.5x6.5, 2009.

Mege - power of the matter.

Nege - a state of energy; i.e. Ne`ge`te
Tism - in the TIME OF.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

There's Cannon Fire in Redford Texas.

Blue Moon Desert Pyramid Black Horse Warfare, acrylic on cotton t-shirt, 2009.

It is Simple. Yet, Hard to Figure Out

I think one day this particular blog will quit building, giving rise to one with pictures.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009


And everything in the studio is miscalculated. = +/-, 2009.

Monday, October 5, 2009

On e-bay now:

Old Turbo, pastel on paper/acrylic seal, 11x14, unframed, 2009.

Tractor, acrylic on card stock, 6x7, 2008.

Sunday, October 4, 2009


To understand one must know that everything in the studio is calculated.

Also on e-bay, October 4-11th, 2009.


Sand Hill Cranes

e-Bay Item number: 330365566827

Sand Hill Elevator

Item number: 330365585710

Saturday, October 3, 2009

Clouds. Volcanos.

R.S.#007, 22hx18w, pastel/acrylic on paper, 2003.

The numbering of the people

11And it came to pass on the twentieth day of the second month, in the second year, that the cloud was taken up from off the tabernacle of the testimony. 12And the children of Isreal took their journeys out of the wilderness of Si'-nai; and the cloud rested in the wilderness of Par'-an. 13And they first took their journey according to the commandment of the LORD by the hand of Moses.14In the first place went the standard of the camp of the children of Judah according to their armies: and over his host was Nah'-shon the son of Am-min'-a-dab.

Hellhounds of Redford for Show and Sale

On e-Bay October 4th 2009. SOLD!

user I.D. : plattersaint

Blue Devil Dog of Redford TX, 5"x9", oil and graphite on cardboard, 2009.
e-Bay Item number: 330365233826

Blue Devil Dog with Three Legs, Redford TX, 5"x9", oil and graphite on cardboard, 2009.
e-Bay Item number: 330365235209

Blue Devil Dog of Redford TX, 5"x9", oil and graphite on cardboard, 2009.
e-Bay Item number: 330365236472

Friday, October 2, 2009

The World use of Oil

the tobacco farmers had it wrong, the Sons of Levi were struck down for burning the wrong incense before the LORD, it was displeasing to Him. Smoke. Makes me wonder about smoke of ALL kinds. "Throughout the air", Our lungs are our source for knowledge. It feeds our lungs then our brains, our hearts and Bones. OXYGEN. I think of the SEEDS of the Earth. And realize, the the tobacco men of history made factories, developed oil, wrote some history. I think of the different kinds of smoke. And I wonder still of the pleasurable smoke preferance of the LORD.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

813 Revelation Broadcast:

ISAIAH 42:14-16

The Blindness of the People

14"I have kept silent for a long time,
I have kept still and restrained Myself.
Now like a woman in labor I will groan,
I will both gasp and pant.
15"I will lay waste the mountains and hills
And wither all their vegetation;
I will make rivers into coastlands
And dry up the ponds.
16"I will lead the blind by a way they
do not know,
In paths they do not know I will guide
I will make darkness into light before
And rugged places into plains.
These are the things I will do,
And I will not leave them undone."

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Moving to the country....

More like, moving through the country.
Tasks of the editing.
"Can't they always be left alone?"
It is possible.
But not likely.

"American Baseball Moon", Two holes of a Man's heart, acrylic and charcoal on paper, 2001.

Things in the County of Uvalde are well, for my close proximity, anyhow. Travel plans never go as you first precieve them it seems. Great plans are cut off at whims by these instances of change. Hmmm. Makes me wonder of the day.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

The Time to Date

The Red Decay FALL Seep is Back in the Spirit of Man.

"Needs A Picture."

Pepsi Break / The Outsider

Last weekend of September, 2009. I headed back to the Panhandle this last week to get my bearings. Figure out what the next most important move for my art career is to be. I've discovered that not a person on the earth knows my history, or the history of my work, except for a very few. Pictures are worth a thousand words, so that gives me some direction.
Outside from that I traveled to south Texas, Bandera and the Old Spanish Trail, over to Uvalde to give my mom away in marriage, then Tuesday, it's back to the Panhandle to regroup for war paint in Redford. The Panhandle IS the place, though; it's where I'll make my stand. The deal down in Redford, for me, is nothing more than a willing offensive. Greatfully speaking, Redford "rules". It is a good place to be for art. My directions there over this last summer have been primarily directed toward Panhandle objectives. As it turns out, this "crew", of "chicken george and the folk art bunch", aren't really about documenting, they're more about "jacklegging off", or making fun of each other and theirselves. I respect that, it's fun. However, is that REAL folk art? Or, are they just a bunch of copycats who know nothing about the subject in which their engaging? Are they just over edjucated academics trying to nitch themselves into a genre in which they do not belong, or are they just "POP-ing" off? If so that means they are ripe for the kill, and have set themselves up to be knocked out of the way by the real deal. I know where I come from, and I know why I make art. The next three months in Redford are going to be rich. I suggest if you're reading, you watch and subscribe, to them and to me. Here is a video reflecting my acquired attitude:

Monday, September 21, 2009


'The desert will remind you of why some like cold water.'

Machines Remind Me

Chemical Dump, 17hx24w, oil on board, 2008.



That I Am Man.

chine;... Shine!

A man is a machine.

~que women` ...?

(wey ma' )

Lady of Guadalupe River'
12"x7", resivour acrylic polymer, 2009.

Friday, September 18, 2009

Bofecillos Mountains

The ART Burials

For seven years I've had the idea to combine artwork and the geocaching sport to engineer some interest of "fine art" into people who are, or are not aware of art working in the new millenia. My intent is to parrallel the experience of the artist creating work with the experience of the patron by creating an adventure. One that would take them somewhere they would not normally go. An event, of family and friends, to hunt down, to find, in an environment a lost artifact. Most pictures I make come from "sets" of three or four. This idea has offered me a chance to break up the set, taking one, if not all, and mysteriously plunging them back into the void in which they came. The whereabouts known only through a set of GPS coordinates, a location number to be sold or released at a certain point it time. Real Adventures of Experience. "Real adventures, Known."


Monday, September 14, 2009

Redford Desert Landscapes along the Rio Grande

Wanted to post a few landscapes I've produced in Redford. My main interest has been the agriculture aong the Rio Grande River.

Landscape with house and highway, 9" x 8", oil on board, 2009.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Hellhound Artwork

For Sale on e-Bay October 4, 2009.

At some point, and that point being a retrospective vision in reverse, thinking, "Where in the Hell did all these damb wicked hounds come from?".

Since the whole tragedy with Chegg dog and the pilgrimage into the desert went down, I had, almost immediately, these visions of Hell Hounds and the dispicable nature of the harsh earth. It inspired a system release of a handfull of narritives on paper regarding Death, the devil, and of course, God. Not everyone is familiar with God's temptation in the desert, but from beyond three months having been here, it is an inviting place. Hidden, like a canyon almost. Like the Valley of Death.
There are brilliant colors against each other here at war and peace but never at rest. They come in tides washing over the seas of endless jagged hot stone filling every gap and void. Truely, the voids found are full of wonder and curiosity beckoning like sirens, "Come in to us, for we have sheltered many." Illusions, to men who boldly trek after them only to find themselves tossed about by gravel and churning sea of their own selfish desires, lost, among the vast thicket sickle spiked claw of the desert's blind grasp, cactus, sharp spine, solar fire.
Water is Spirit. When it's all gone or poisoned or worse, Hell Hounds will rise up in the hearts of men just as they did today and yesterday, but tomorrow they shall be unrestrained, and they'll stalk the desert floor of this earth like the Terrible Lizard.

Lately out in Redford

Well, I've temporarily resolved a bunny issue on youtube. You see, my colleague, and I, thought it would be a great idea to reinforce the character of mine on youtube by creating a set of videos that played to the slower, seemingly more stupid slow western drawl one can only aquire in the rural west. It has been successful, I believe. We have effectivly began a cast of narative stories, fact of fiction. Here's a few of how they go....

As it turns out, Chicken George is a wicked ole bastard and he just wanted to exploit my suffering and make a fool of me..., therefore....

And at last...

you are current.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

What Happens Post Cattle Paintings

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Title to the "Demension Negetivity"

Concerning the Negative Spirit of Humanity

The Interpretation of Music

"Tonight, the bottle let me down." Music. Stop reading and hear it play. One from your day, today. "Tonight, the bottle let me down."
In discerning from the realms an understanding of the music in time, the equation is tested, means by spirit, of addition, to the lyrics if added. Musica, in itself, is on it's ownstanding, however, it is the addition of verbal communication which begins the span of human opinion. The melody of all things Man are, in themselves, great works of orchestra: the guitar, electricity, the operation of the machine (the engine).
Therefore, in the instances of music, the patterns are swayed to positive or negative by the simple word of lyric. An experiance positive/negative.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

It's August

Where does time go? One would think that coming out to the desert would slow things down a bit from the hustle and bustle of the central American life, but in fact, I believe it has sped the clock hands further. So then there is work. There is the battle between one's self and the things that prevent one from fully expressing one's self. The maze, the labrinth. Most of my reporting goes to youtube, where I'm leaving traces of my existence here and there. But many who know me know that. Awww. Random thoughts of rambling throughout the mind. Preoccupation of just how and what paths would best fit doing things the best way. I wonder if Michealangelo ever had days where he worked extremely hard but only chipped away a small amount? I wonder if there were days when he chipped away at all? Or days when he raged and threw hammers and distressed? I'm certain of it. And now I feel just a little bit better.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Before and After Cooking with Chicken George

Well, ladies and gentlemen, things out here in Redford have been going well; if it doesn't bother too many gramatical wizards using "well" at the beginning and ending of a sentence. You'll probably tell me I should have used parenthesis on that last part aswell, but, no matter, as my eldest brother always says, in his hardest strike at sarcasm, "Care".
Once the heat barrier is adequatly adapted to, and the body and mind overcome the lack of sleep incurred by this ruthless environment, ideas and aspirations of the mind begin to function with more clarity and focus. The realization that this sort of condition, this time to art alone is exactly what I've been working towards yet unable to grasp again for at least the last three years. When one finds the perfect drug of life, the human mind and the action, the belief is that the "high", the action, can be sustained without interuption. This is the concept of some utopian ideologies. However, the universe is flawed, and I with it; therefore, a sustained homeostatic relationship with my art or anything of this earth for that matter, is hereby unattainable. What a great weight this understanding removes from my shoulders! And a lesson in the growth of art, in living, in the human experience. That nothing on or of this earth should dominate our existence.
The Actual Blog Entry

Our apartment studios here in Redford have individual butane canisters which set about 20 yards away from each apartment. I think that all the hot water heaters run off electricity but the stove top ovens are gas powered, which always makes for a better oven, in my opinion. The fifteenth of July marked my one month aniversary of coming out to the desert and since that time I have been able to keep my kitchen relatively clean and free of ant infestations. However, in the last couple of days, my neighbor to the south has run out of natural gas in his canister (Chicken George) and has come over to cook on my stove every once in awhile. It seems tonight, he has brought his legion of ants with him. They are like his soldier ants. A mighty chicken king with many slaves who follow wherever he goes to simply clean up after him. Trouble is, he left them over in my kitchen, and they are after whet ever secret ingredients he uses in his recipes. No worries. I find it a bit comical.
As for my other doings, heres the latest video about the natural spirit of the desert and the great pains it delivers upon the art makers who choose to fall into her snare. Enjoy.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

All day long I drink iced tea

Well, well, well. How does an animal survive in the desert? To tell the truth, I don't know. But I can tell you, if tea is taxed like tobacco, I will go to war; because all day long I drink iced tea, it's the only way I survive in the desert. HahA.
By now, I'm beginning to wonder about this place and it's long term effects. I've noticed that there have been transitions from the "civilized" man into the one who "speaks as a voice in the wildness." What are they? Let's see, oh what could they be? Well, for starters, it never cools off. That's right. What would you do if you no longer had the sweet luxury of HVAC technowledgy? HVAC, thats Central Heating and Air Conditioning for those of you who think sheetrock walls are made of solid stone. Yes. In fact the body and the mind transition under extreme conditions and the soul begins to reinterpret the universe, it begins to understand with just a bit more clarity the bond between the human spirit and nature. Maybe everyone could use a little more time out in it, away from the bustle of invented comfort. Perhaps we all need a realignment, like the rennassiance. But I feel something far bigger than such an event welling in the horizon of my bones. Rejoice! For the best is yet to be!

Like a comet crosses the sky, the days slip by and by. Last week was the Fourth of July U.S.A. Independence Day celebration. I found myself hangin' with Chicken George out in Marathon, Texas. A funfilled day it was. Started with a bbq lunch and on to an afternoon sitting as chili cookoff judges. Later, there was a small roadside artshow, a short time at a famous hotel bar, then on to the rolls our trio played as wedding crashers. Free beer and shrimp. That's where I scored these firework photos, posing as a wedding photographer. After the family made Chicken George and his "devil with a red dress on", we had to move on to the final event, a dance out in the absolute middle of nowhere. Now you don't get much more fortunate than that. I had a great time. Hope everyone out there remembers theirs, and for good reason. Live free, or Die. Adios y via con Dios.


Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Last Weekend in June

Reunion de Familia

The last weekend in June is celebrated by my family as the Graham Family Reunion, my father's name. It is one of the four times, over the course of each summer, in which family members all get together for a reunion. Each one is of a different name, for example, there is the Graham, the Calloway, the Hayes, and the Carr, and each is held in a different location in Texas. It's been awhile since I was able to make it to the Graham reunion; But, with the development of digital recording devices, cameras, video cams, computer software and so on, I thought it a good time to try and document the stories of youth from the last of a generation that was my Grandfathers; Only now, I wish I had begun fifteen years ago.
Since most of them are already gone there are only a few left to get diamonds of information from such as my Great Aunt Neoma, pictured here, who spoke to me, on the record, about where her parents (my grandfathers parents)and their grandparents came from. As it turns out, my great great grandfather was in the Indian Wars of the late 1800's when men were settling the prairie. In a battle he was wounded and lost is horse but found refuge in a hollowed tree log. Later, a young Cherokee Indian woman found him, took pity on him, and nursed him back to health. They were later married.
Moreover, she told me storie from the 1930's, 40's, and 50's about how her and her husband developed a cement foundry, and were responsible for the establishment of many water wells, cement grain elevators, many Wal-Mart foundations, and later the foundations for the wind energy windmills. Who could have known that documenting the elders was so enlightening? I recomend it. Their stories are made of determination and will, and the knowledge is powerful.

In the end, the panhandle trip to visit family bore great fruit, not to mention the rain that region has received. It has really boosted my father's garden into overdrive, and I was able to reap some of the fresh reward. Thanks, dad. In the meantime, it's back out to Redford, and the pursuit of The Great Commission.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Second Outing in the Desert

Well, today was just full of great suprises. I've come accustomed to painting near my truck. In the panhandle, It's flat enough most everywhere that you can just pull right up and paint off the tailgate. But not out here. On my first run out I was able to do a little off roading to get a great perspective on a landscape. I've been drawn into the valley of the Rio Bravo (Rio Grande) and the farming that is done there. It seems to be the likely transition from the agriculture of the plains. Today, I investigated a position off a small ridge and once again thought I'd just drive on out, and so I did. One problem, picked up a thorn or two in not one but two different tires. Not good, I tried to jockey my truck for a turn around but made the mistake of leading the nose end a little ways off the downgrade. That caused gravity to take hold of the motor and when I tried to reverse out it dug the back tires into the soft gravel dirt of the desert. Whoops. Maybe the heat'd cooked my squash. At this point not only am I not getting any painting done, but I'm stuck with two tires going flat. These are the type of hitches I'm used to seeing with plain air painting, it's kind of like if The Duke Boys decided to start painting. I once had to walk back to the house from five miles out on a position I set up on in the panhandle for the same reason. Someone borrowed my jack. What good is a spare without a jack? What good is a spare with two tires going flat? Anyhow, there was only one way out of there, and that was a short desent off the side of that small revine and onto a dirt road below. The last bit of the trail was about a four foot drop at a nearly vertcal grade. Thank Jesus He was pushing and I had enough speed to get the front bumper out of the ground, not get high centered, and make it onto the road surface. It wasn't too bad. I made it into Presidio and had to replace one tire (cut sidewall) and fixed the flat on the other. I need to sell some paintings and get some real tires. Still made it out there before dark and got my picture made. I should have a t.v. crew following me around. If they make shows about the Ice Road Truckers they ought to find interest in the shenanigans I get myself into. Whew! This sure is fun!

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Mobil Operation Underway in Redford

The Origin of Project Mobile Studio

When I left the Texas Panhandle to come out to Redford, I was working on a project to develope plain air landscapes called Project Mobile Studio. The Origin of the idea came during the days when I was driving a Tractor/trailer across the U.S.A. I wanted to figure out a way to sustain my acrylic painting in the harsh atmosphere of a dry, windy climate, or any climate for that matter. Through the means of abstraction, I developed a series of languages with the acrylic medium in which I began to apply to ordinary subject matter, revealing a layered, extremely fluid outcome. However, given the fragility of the acrylic medium, it made plain air painting near impossible. Furthermore, the pallet set up, canvas size, and incorporation of multiple application processes made it even more difficult, and nearly impossible.
Usually, my original idea always excedes my financial abilities. At the time the idea was realized, I was driving an Eighteen wheeler and spent ten to twelve hours a day with a view of the world at about twelve to thirteen feet off the ground. This gave me the idea that the fully realized and operation mobile studio would definately have to include a full tractor complete with stretched frame, to house a twentyeight foot box, a complete sleeper, with living quarters, and a sissor lift within the box which would lift the painting pad up to a level of approximatly thirteen foot six inches off the ground, providing a unique perspective on all landscapes. The tractors internal, twentyfour volt, four battery power supply, with included diesel generator would allow the vehicle self sufficiency, as well as enough power to run compressors and water pumping systems. This is just a scratch of the detailed blueprints in which this ultimate mobile painting laboratory would include. The price on that ART dream would be around $1.3 million dollars for complete construction.
This was a huge set back. How does a truck driving artist come up with that kind of money and still eat? Well, my solution is to prove my art. Therefore, I have begun out of the back of a 1997 Ford Ranger pickup, featured in this picture, Project Mobil Studio prototype001. Temporarily, to resolve my need for a hybridized machine, capable of sustaining the life of acrylics, I've switched to oil paints and smaller scale works. In my next post I will tell you a bit more about the plans which are already underway for Project Mobil Studio prototype002acrylictrailer.
Thank you, and stay tuned.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Dastardly Dogs of the Desert

There's a lot about life that is taken for granted. A lot of time is wasted by petty desires and wants, struggles toward the things we think we should have. Many times, we are given things that we respond to, only to come accustomed to the feelings of comfort that seem to direct us toward the notion that these things will be around always. I've had many relationships with many people, of all makes and models, but when you discover that out of most of those folks, the simple relationship to a dog rates higher in desirability, is longer lasting, and is more memorable than most people, well, it makes you really question just what sort of generation you're a part of.
Today was not a good day in the desert. This morning, just before dawn, My friend Checkers, my oldest companion and Boston Terrier, went out to use the bathroom in the coolness of the morning. Exploring this new environment further, he wondered just beyond my hearing capability, and was lynched down by a pack of local heathen dogs, or possible coyotes. When he didn't return after a half hour or so, I grew suspicious, and set out to look for him. He was found near the main road, just after day break. If you knew that one, you know there has never been one like him, nor, will there ever be. This photo is one of him I took out in the deserts of New Mexico, near Alburqurqie, just three years ago, when he lead me out to an interesting marker in the middle of nowhere, interesting dog indeed. Loving pets are like comets, or shooting stars, thay are a wonder to behold, and you never really know when it is that you're going to get a good one. And like the stars that cross the sky, the world is too hard a place for them to remain, and in the blink of an eye, they are gone. Cheggs, my friend, thank you.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Arrival in Redford

Well, ladies and gentlemen, I've finally made my way down to Redford. Loaded up a bunch of materials in my truck and trailer and spent a Sunday making the trip down. All went well despite a detour and a few showers. Redford will be the site of a 2009 studio for new work. I've been here for the second day and have just about got everything organized to begin work. Stay tuned and subscribe to my youtube videos to keep up to date!

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Headed to Redford Tomorrow

It has been two weeks since I arrived back in the Texas Panhandle to gather supplies and equipment for an extended stay out in the desert basin of Big Bend. Only the last two days have been dedicated to packing supplies. Prior to returning home fourteen days ago it had been two months since I'd seen my house. When I left winter was still clinging to the country side, clutching it, like a crow who'd figured out the scarecrow, refusing to fly away. But, when I returned life was here again.
When your away for long periods of time there is always a stack of mail waiting on the desk for your attention. I've successfully, over the past three years removed myself from the grasp of American society as much as possible, shortening the stack of letters, bills, and junk paper waste that accumulates in a burn pile in the corner of my room. I'm happy enough to just receive copies of my magazine subscriptions and that's it, an occasional bill here or there, but it was my willingness to live life with cash that allows me to do things like break away and go to the desert for three months to a year. That, and a lot of planning. In fact, I've been preparing for an artistic offensive for over three years now. How elusive it is! The things in life we long for. How much is the theif that robs us? How many don't even know that they're being robbed? Content, to feed on what the social monster of human acceptance dictates to them. You need to be this way and do all of this. You need to be content. I wish I could be. But I'm glad I'm not.
Have you ever been pushed by a force of water? There's a point when you stop resisting it because you understand that it's power is greater than you, and you are going to go wherever it takes you. A point when vision is distant and downstream. A point where you begin to aim at targets, focus and take them down. Swim, like a fish.
The river winds around where it wants to go, Like this post. I began writing it to talk about the twelve days spent repairing an old chariot and a wagon idea for a mobil pallet and easel; prepare for the future always. But here I am, discussing fish, the social robber of dreams, the death of the human spirit, and the time of the operation of the machine.
I'll see you in Redford.

Monday, June 8, 2009

One Step Closer to the Edge

Some of the plants you see here in the Graham/Ford Co-operative garden were started in my room back in January. Last year I worked a summer vegtable garden probably one tenth the size of this years. My nieghbor across the street retired from farming this year and as he put it, "was feeling a little ambitious" regarding a Panhandle vegtable garden. If Hank Hill was another twenty or so years older, that'd be my neighbor, or the voice, anyway. He purchased this lot next to our house, tore down the old decrepped abode that sat on it, ran the disc over the land once or twice, and finally, asked if we were interested in a collaborative effort. Together we have a couple of varieties of sweet corn, watermellon, honeydew mellon, canteloupe, black eyed peas, sweet peas, beans, potatoes, okra, two varieties of tomatoes, and about five different varieties of peppers. If all goes well with moisture I'm hoping to experiment further on a hot sauce recipe.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

News from the Panhandle

Today is June the seventh, 2009. I'm up in the texas panhandle taking care of miscellaneous business I needed to take care of before going to the Big Bend area. So far, so good. I've stayed as busy as possible with out a break until today. I still have about three major details to take care of before I ship out. The summer heat is beginning to take hold of the panhandle now. The spring wheat has turned to gold and the month old corn stalks are two feet tall; a beautiful contrast of the colors of life and death. Irrigation is going full strength as the farmers are struggling to get the crops up due to a lack of rain in this region. Lately, there have been a few showers that have helped, however the wind and dry climate removes moisture nearly as fast as it goes in the ground. This is the time of year when the Panhandle really comes to life. For an artist it is the best time to be on the prairie, but the elements can be challenging. It has me questioning my trip to the desert, but my commitment out there has been set and my agenda will have to be fulfilled. I needed a little time away from the prairie anyhow.

The Thoughts and Times of

Blog Archive

The Video Bar