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.

The Thoughts and Times of

The Video Bar