This is just before Church in Washington, I’m sure. We lived and traveled from commune to commune (small homesteads too) from Washington State, through Oregon, and into the Santa Cruz Mountains of California; Fairbanks Alaska at one point as well. I remember the blue bus we traveled in, sometimes we slept in a tent along with a group of others in a meadow opening between long drives. Each community had its own garden, and we all pitched in and we all ate.
Though that was not always the case, there were times where we had nothing to eat and as you may have seen in some movies, we pulled in behind a grocery store and searched the large dumpsters. One time in particular we had no food and my parents were keeping us entertained until we got sleepy. Then there was a knock on the door and the Church down the street had brought us a box of food, grateful moments. Those experiences were few though, the greater ones outshine them. Like chopping down a tall tree in Oregon and each of us kids carrying our load back to the homefront. Sitting up in the barn where my stepdad would draw and paint, catching salamanders in the creek, or walking a woody trail home after school, and so many others.
That’s my stepdad on the right, another artist, he loved to paint the face of Christ onto wood with his thumb. Too often I wish I was back there again watching the thick fog of Washington push through the hay bale window. Or the wet, moist landscape of Oregon with its electrical storms and spider web lightening. Even the cold, Alaska, where the only thing to do at recess was slide down a snowy hill… Good memories.
I’m the one on the left.
And here is a picture of my mama in all her Earthy goodness.
I was 16 when my mom chose to settle back into the city of San Jose California, due to family and her divorce which was hard on all of us.
I was just hitting 18 when I was in my first group gallery exhibit. After that it seemed I was in every Cafe’ and gallery around the local area. What an amazing group of artists and writers there were before San Jose destroyed everything. After that I traveled to New York for two years and then up and down the California coastline drawing live, or exhibiting wherever I could.
I love the life and the people that I have had the honor to meet and speak with and learn from. From high society ‘intellects’ to the homeless I would sit with on my way home from work. I couldn’t get down the street without someone calling my name and that usually came with a hug. I think we are losing that aspect of who we are as a people, hate has foreshadowed care and contempt has eaten holes into many hearts. The world is close to a state of desperation, and you know what happens then… Desperate people do desperate things.
2015 TRUMPETS WILL FILL THE SKY
I published this in 2015 when I started caring for my grandparents. It was not a good experience, lol. I got poor advice and little aid on the cover, so I did what I could. At the time I knew little to nothing about Gimp, but Gimp was there for me all the same!
I hope this second publication will be easier now that I have some experience and can express myself better during the publication steps. What I found to be interesting about, Trumpets, is that some folks with depression started contacting me and thanking me for expressing some of what they feel but are unable to convey themselves. That moved me and it is greatly appreciated. Perhaps this next book will carry the same energy and care as the last one.
Here are a couple of working titles for the second:
THE BONES OF MY FEET
GRAVES & OTHER PARAPHERNILIA
Thank you for having a look!
or Anguish. 11×14 archival page and inks, always freehand. The fourth piece in an unfolding series.
This one touches on depression, something I understand very well. Everything could be going smoothly and then it all bottle necks or locks up and crushes you. I have lost two friends to depression, one in high school and one later in the years. Both were great guys one was a jock the other an intellect with a wonderful family. Depression is not biased and it can hit at any time
I met someone at a party one time, a friend of my brothers, it was a brief meeting, and he seemed like a really good guy, friendly and outgoing. A week later my brother told me the next day that fellow had taken his life.
Please, if you are suffering with depression, whether it be finances, relationship, or clinical. I ask you to seek help and speak with someone who can guide you through. In those moments you don’t realize how many people you have touched and how many people love you. You can speak to a friend or family member, or you can call this number and speak with someone who will listen and help you find the right help you may need.
Depression # 866-903-3787. You can also text 988 to reach the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline.
The third drawing of an unfolding series and it appears I am in the mood for bold lines. 11×14 always freehand and always with Archival paper and inks in a nice metal, gallery frame. These are usually sold in a series of four or eight, but folks do buy them individual as well. Feel free to reach out if you have interest. Thank you.
