What about BOB?
Well I grew up north of the 45th parallel. So I guess that make me part Canadian er sumth’n eh? Up the in Charlevoix I was surrounded by water. It was everywhere. So were the white people. Oh sure we had a few Ottawa and Chippewa that managed to put up with the grey hairs as well as I did. Aw but as I got older all that right wing bigotry just got to me. So much plastic, pun intended if you know my history. Not to mention the winters up there. They still have the every once in a while. Anyways it all got ta me and I had to cut loose.
So I found Eureka Springs. I found a place that is about as real as it gets. We seldom hold back down here in the Ozarks. We will tell ya when “it ain’t got no gas.” This is where I really grew up. If you don’t mind please take that with extra salt. So here I am trying my hardest to make it as an artist since 1996. I guess it worked. I’ve been in a stack of major magazines for my work. Even got me a full ten pages in Country Market Place. Oh and then there are the books and TV shows. I even made furniture for the Malian Fashion Show’s runway. Johnny Morris of Bass Pro is a big fan. Just go visit one of his stores.
These days I’m sober and a mad painting fool. I guess I’m trying to make up for all those wasted years. The creativity just keeps multiplying. Sooner or later I’m going to break wide open with something big. I can feel that in my blood. I find that every day ends too soon. Perhaps someone wound me up to tight or my brake pads are shot, but I am NOT stopping till I take my last breath.
Love? Ya been there a few times. These days I love just two things: My daughter, Madie Sage and my work. My work being creating art of some kind. Ya, I love my family and friends but not the way one loves their child. Sucks because she is mostly absent in my life. So is someone else. Hey, at least I know this now. What a fool’s path I blaze huh?
Now for THE END… No hillbilly/Yankee speak below:
We can decide many paths in this life. I made a new choice to leave something behind other than just lifeless shell and a stone with a name chiseled in it. Nor will I throw my days to the side in hope of a second life. I want to leave a colossal body of work. I must leave my mark for generations to come. I don’t know if I can, but I will not be like so many who die wondering “what if?” I will not waste my life anymore inebriated on the counterfeit promise from a contaminated mind. Or chasing bogus material objects that have been anointed some vague worth by an unconscious corporate machine. I can see unmistakably now and I can see almost as far as I could when I was a child full of questions.
Going at this life alone is not an option for most. I’ve learned that if you should be so privileged to find somebody you can let into your life they must never be there as the crutch or pin cushion. We die alone why we must try to make our lives as one. Even the river can’t go to just one side of the island. We have to understand though in the end we all run down stream together and are collected in the universes soup bowl of an ocean. Have you ever stared at the sunset on that horizon? I have and it burned my eyes to tears.