Listen up, Folks...

Sculpture,
Brandon Petree, 2006.

Ad for coming youtube video:

Next up"


'A History of the Warehouse Arts Scene, San Marcos, TX, 2002-2006 and counting...'



New Show Proposal, 2008.

Thanksgiving Week 2007

November 2007.

Here's an affair my brother, Rusty, and I got into at the Iron Skillet located at Petro in San Antonio. We sat at a table next to this old man to eat breakfast, when he struke up a conversation. We obliged him, telling stories about life. It didn't take long for my brother to start in on me about the similarities between this old man and I. First of all, he was wearing a Texas Longhorns hat with his name and a drawing on the bill, I was wearing a Texas cap that morning, it turns out that he'd broke his leg in a bicycle accident, I broke my leg in a motorcycle wreck, and to top it all off, we find out that he's an ex-trucker who turned in his keys for drawing and picture making. Well, such paradigmatic events can not go undocumented, therefore, our cameras rolled, and below is an edited outcome, with a few twists:

Trucking Cowboy Posts

If you could travel side-by-side with a Bullet

If you could travel side-by-side with a bullet, it would sound like a semi truck moving at speed with a full load of freight.

The Cowboys are winning, their record is 11-1. They've beat the Giants, the Eagles, and ???, Green Bay since I last posted here. They're winning, and I'm proudly supporting them with much pop-corn and heart, four games left, go Dallas.

The road. Why do we even participate? Why is it that we see what we are then we keep going? And names. Why do we have names? What is the purpose anymore? Questions. Questions fill the heart of men. And when men have no answers to questions the rest of the world is lost and without answers. This is our universe, men, signed and deeded over to our trust. To our responsibility. But who are we? We all know, yet still we question. We reject truth for our own complication. Oh, and that leaves the gates open wide. HeeHeeHeee! Open wide the paved cemented steel belted road of doubt deep into the heart of a man, ahhhh and once infection takes ho;d and begins to burn rapid and unpredictable like a wild fire over drought stricken land driven by winds whom have no master. Yes. YES! Doubt your brother, hahaahaaaa. They say, voices in collision, don't listen, don't hear, don't excercise restraint. Instead,.... make war.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Make War.

MM.

Trucking Cowboy Posts

Dallas Cowboys @ Philadelphia Eagles

We whooped them,

this time we did.

and I posted an entirely,

here, an entirely different post.

To have it only erased,

erased by the diconnection of the machine.

Low to you,

to you my machine.

How is it that you

fail only at the time when you,

when you must save your memory

and mine within?

Low, low, low

to me, to me and to my machine.

For it is now I whom need you

to remember for me,

and you lack the compassion to care,

to care for me.

So there it is,

woe, woe is me.

and my sorrow for 4

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Posts.

Trucking Cowboy Posts

Week Six

Dallas Cowboys vs. Minnesota Vikings

Well, let me just begin by saying that today's date is Monday, October the twenty second of the year of our Lord, 2007, and I have still yet to watch a game that occurred yesterday. "What?", you say, "How can this be that this man is one day behind the rest of us? How can he not know the outcome?" I'll tell you. Yesterday I was strongly inspired, and motivated, to pack up my equipment and head out into the prairie (down into a nearby Floyd county canyon where the First Baptist Church of Lockney gathers once a year) to paint landscape. "Ahhhh," I said, "I will study this canyon with paint." Upon my departure from the Sunday Morning Worship Service, I received brief and eloquently simple directions as to how to arrive at this canyon of said location; however, the devel often arrives to toy. Between this arrival and the time of my leaving, I rushed home to gather and organize my supplies, grabbing five canvases of various size. Soon, more time had passed than I gathered and before long, I was wired and tagging with me along electronic devices of individual functionality. All of these things with me, I set out with companion to find the great canyon.

In Walked the Devel

Davis:

"...man..., I think after that house we were supposed to turn right."

Justin:

"Are you sure? I thought it was left, take the first left after the house at the top of the Southernmost Ridge, right?"

Dave:

"yea, that's right it was left..."

Justin:

"Well, I'll just take this left right here, surely it goes there..."

Lo, but behold it did not. The duo plus paint marveled at the countryside and when the critical time came it was about face and STOP!

The sky was alien. Perfect. And not to be matched in any form.

In every direction the perfect landscape, ... the perfect scene. The air was crisp with low breeze, and the setting yielded much promise. Immediately rushing of multiple actions as I began to unload, sort, organize, place, and layout for what was to be the mother of all wars in painting of my experience. No more than fresh paint hit pallet, that the winds began.

The earth howled and moaned with the line wires of acupuncture which grappled them, "WAR! War is upon you", they said, hissing and spitting as they fled. "You warrior demons are no match for me. Death be your Commander." The landscapes still held true, all of them perfect, all of them grand, but indeed, the sky was alien, and direction was lost. A new wave came upon me now, again, blowing harder this time with magnification of an out of place sun in a sky cast behind clouds of thin scab. Harder I pressed, "FASTER!!!", was the report I gasped. But the Sands of Doom have an agenda of their own, and into the ditch of red sand my canvas' were caste. The sun hot, and dry on skin, deleting all moisture with embrace of cold wind. "From the Mouth of Creation this day has come", at last. I continued on, from the hour of two until six. Until the fury of the land were wrought upon my mark together merged, locked... and clasp.

Until the day was done, finally reaching the canyon land at the second greatest time of His command, light and colour were equally as grand, as the lost alien sky of Safari County West Texas Road. But just between me and the sand,...

"He who laughs last, laughs good..."

/

/

/

As for The Battle of Vikings and Cowboy Men

I "tivo'd" the broadcast, watched the first half after a good shower, then fell asleep on the couch during half time show. The score was fourteen to seven; so I still don't know who won.

***the same***

as it still stands, for I and the sands.

Ass Handed to Us

* The Trucking Cowboy Posts *

Gross. The only thing I'll say about last week, I said in the title. Wow. The Patriots kicked our butts. I was hoping for some kind of mortal combat defensive showing by Dallas, but instead Sheriff Brady dealt out some finishing moves worthy only of the Scorpion himself. Dirty. Now, the uncertainty. Will the Cowboys will go up or down? I hope they rebound fiercely against the Vikings and avoid falling into that pit of shame teams share, who come out swinging undefeated-swagger the first five games of the season, then turn out to be the morons of the league by finishing out at 500. That would make me have "Night of the Living Carnitas" in my guts and brains (great title by the way Durham; http://www.jddurham.blogspot.com/).

New England Patriots 44,000 Dallas Cowboys 24 F

Special thanks to the state of Iowa for having free high speed internet at all IA rest area locations, an attribute far exceding the progress of most of the other fortynine.

Oh, Despair, Despair,.... Can This Be?

Dallas Cowboys vs. Buffalo Bills

Well. Sometimes, sometimes nothing works out. Occasionally the asteroids and comets align on similar courses and find their destinations not far from the others mark. YEEEESSS!!! Terrance Newman interception!!!!! We Live. This can prove extremely destructive. Just ask Jupiter how she felt taking the Levy Nine. Crap! Ask Tony Romo. Four more and I'm calling him Levy Nine for the rest of his career. But those are the blows that decimate the weak, and define the great. The week give up after the first five consecutive knock downs, (if not after the first two). The great never quit, Death does not even conquer them, they are free.

As you may understand, I'm inspired to write tonight while watching my lifelong team blow all four tires and spin around uncontrollably on sparking aluminum rims. There is hope. Even when great adversaries or unbeatable odds arise. Even for the Bills. They were picked to lose horribly. And right now there's twenty four seconds left and they have an eight point lead. There is hope. So, I guess the point of this whole thing is, don't quit. Two point conversion.............crap. Onside kick..................

In one of my favorite movies, a Russian submarine captain would execute a "crazy ivan" every once in awhile to assure himself and the crew that their sub was not being followed or tracked by the enemy. This maneuver was a simple break in the course of the boat, erratic, unpredictable, unknowing sometimes even to the captain himself. I recently found myself doing this while snorkeling alone in the Caribbean Sea, and just because I never saw a shark behind me as I swam, doesn't mean there wasn't one. In fact this is more an action of humility. Yes I realize I am mortal. Yes, I will face death. Yes, I must answer to a Mighty Lord for my life's results.

These simple erratic deviations, after all, are a natural hardwire. A necessity in the struggle to remain humble. A break in all routines. A strategy to out wit my own natural mind to remain at the edge, to keep from boasting a fools game and trekking onto too thin of ice. A preservation of ones sense of certainty. Reassurance, in this ocean of experience, that I am not, nor will I ever be, too great to be the greatest. Wisdom.

It does not come without scars.

the Cowboys won, by the way, with a last two-second field goal. They got that onside kick; they got some extra yards, they won. There is hope.

Dallas Cowboys 25 Buffalo Bills 24

posted from Houston, TX.

Tales from the Wheel of a Peterbilt Post

"you arrogant ass,... you've killed us..."

"Let's See if We can Keep it Going

'It won't fire!' What? 'I said it's not firing!, Dambit'

Well, what the hell's the problem?

'I don't know.'

Where the Hell did the shit I just typed go?
Man, I don't know I told you, this stuff is like making a mistake you don't remember making, sweet poetry lost forever in a lapse of time.
Damb."

At the wheel of the big rig on a run lasting late into the night, I watched the earth eclipse the moon...

Lunar Eclipse 08-28-2007, 0300-0600 cst.

"Disaster"

'all fronts.'

"...and the road becomes my bride
I've stripped of all but pride
So in her I do confide
and she keeps me satisfied...

and my ties are severed clean..."

'METALLICA'


'reap the whirlwind,
reap it.'

"Turn And Run"

Blast cried the lowly carrier, I hearyou, I hear you, Lower your canons!
Cried aloud, the screamimg blunder cried the heckle of the raptor"s Voice!!!!!! You should have listened to me faster!!!! Wars, have come upon you. /.MasterM.//;7.578[850894985614p.';]]]][---------..```~~``3%damage. X7. Have come unto Ye faster
To much Time you have taken and not enough patience have I left or will be Given.

Cries, was the low howl Of an Eagle Whoose' soaring.
The eagle Said, "Thou!
There is more yet to come."

Lasts Forever...

"goes the eagle
which cries to itself"

Well, hello folks, The four or five of you who are out there that actually check this particular blog. I hope that you're doing well amidst the passing of your days and daily lives and the night brings upon you not the sounds of coming thieves, but rest. This whole lack of a lab top..., is it "lap" or "lab" when referring to a portable computing device?, I've never really known... anyway, laboratory top computer deal must be soon resolved. My time is just so precious today that I find myself unable to get to each and every little website to leave a trace of my crossing nowhere near as much as I hope. Not to mention the fact that.... well, that thought doesn't really apply, but I'll tell you that punctual language applications are no longer resolved in a world where once all languages were separated distinctly, having now all come together like a high speed car wreck on the foggy autobahn at 3:04 CST. Don't drive into smoke.

"Thank you, Oklahoma."

Go back to sleep, go back to sleep, weary, tired, sick and hungry, for I know not how to type and this may take awhile. I was headed up to Illinois last weekend but a last minute shift in the operations of the trucking industry set me south instead. Praise the Lord, God Almighty, Most High Ruler in Heaven and on Earth, instead of a lonely Illinois truck stop last weekend, He granted me a ticket south to see family and friends whom I've not seen in many long months. And I had missed them all. Saw all of them I did except one.

And that's it. Tomorrow I return to the long haul division. And you will not hear from me for months.

So, to you all four or five farewell
I shall return to this domain I assure.
I will be returning
to you then,
Then I'll return,
And return again.
Goodbye.
The End.