Walking Through Graveyards aka The Day He Left US

The universe doesn't recognize us,
you know..

There are no monuments built for ants.

The gravestones kept up

bear no better testament to time
than those whose battered, weathered topplings
have acheived.

There truly are no songs for the dead.
We almost can touch them, taste them,
Hear them..
And yet,
They are still so long gone as to be 
intelligible to the living.
They are only a moment, 
a piece of matter,
a chord played quickly and forgotten.

Which perhaps is why
So many choose to take that flying leap

and release themselves
to the  greatest of unknowns..

Which is

the nothingness of life.
The vanishing point of no return.

Godspeed R. W.

N'Orleans in Three Parts

 

Pt.1- It paints a Million Pictures

Everywhere is a picture
Every place a vibrant stream
Of every type of soul unraveled 
Shining brightly in the pillowy heat

Every nook holds hidden flowers
Glowing heavy green vegetation
Spilling from the brick and terrace
Sending out a warm vibration

Here every corner plays a music
Makes you dance or sing or sway
Brass bands play for all who hear them
Steamboats key your cares away

Not Every moment might entice you
There are still ones who make you cringe
And yet they're saved by simple pleasure
Precious beauty belaying every fringe

Which gets you wrapped up taken
By viewing the lush and lovely pictures
Playing out vivacious color
Reminiscent of spiritual scriptures

Reminding you that God Is
in simply everything around you
That life should be lived with reverence
For all that does renew you.










Pt.2 - Meeting Aunt Jewel & Robert Vincent
 
This is what it's like with Family
You start to talkin'
Reminiscin'
See a person's history laid out before you
You hear Their story
Feel all the love that got put into them
You see Their roots
And from such tales
Learn how they grew
The aspect of their soul you were drawn to
Put into words that are not your own
A version different from the one you're used to
Which finally explains how
You could find them so uniquely wonderful
And soon
You are awash
With memories that are not your own
But shared they make you feel as if
With Family
That is
How very special to find yourself embraced
By his homecoming
That is
What it's like to be with family
It is part of what it's like
To be This in love

 

Pt. 3 - Big Easy

They call it Big Easy
And so it is
For there are washing machines waiting
Where you least expect but Want them
And "Hurricanes" flow freely
And life is the channel
Through which the water dances
The pulse of time is efervescent
So as never to let one imagine
That they are pent up by it
Or the fragility of space
Fluid day to night
Night to Day the warmth entangles
Even the coldest of hearts
And mine
Is not the one to question
If any of this is Real 
Or if it only serves imagination
As affirmation of my every whim
I wish i could stay here forever
So as not to disrupt this balance
Bounding out of my insides
Into the crevices i capture
So impressive in their lies to me
That all is right in the world of men   

Clay: a Chancy Act of Prolonged Engagement

My next show:

  

Opens Thursday July 3rd,  6-9pm

SMAART Gallery on Sutter @ Leavenworth, SF

New Works of 2014

New works 2014

 

Art Murmur; bringing something new to First Friday in Oakland

Striking into new territory, i will be bringing my newly crafted pocket flasks to this First Friday in Oakland for Art Murmur!

 Find me somewhere in the throngs of vendors, music, and art-and/or-people-loving people betwixt the 22nd to 25th street masses... 
I will be the one with all the flasks, offering some special firewater to fill em for slightly higher fee... help me to help you have your fun, regardless of the new anti-drinking establishment of art murmur! 

As my grandmother treated it, so do i... it's medicinal!  

Cure what ails you, come and get your flask this Friday evening,downtown Oakland from 6pm- 10pm!

http://oaklandartmurmur.org/ 

Once again... 
Maggie Malloy curates 
another great sculpture show,

in a brand new gallery space,
operated by Steve Allen:
SMAart Gallery,
located at 1045 Sutter St.
in San Francisco!

The show, Deja View,
includes myself
and nine other ceramic sculpture artists, 
showing a collection
of current & older works.
It will be opening on
Thursday, Sept.6th
from 6-8pm, 
concurrent with
the Polk St. Artwalk, 
and will close on 
Saturday, Sept.29th
6-8pm also.

I intend to show some of the work shown below:

Looking forward to seeing you there!

Totem of the Lost Spirit

Totem of the Lost Spirit

Totem for a lost spirit,
in the nation
of once was wandering
bison herds charging,
elk horns leaping,
tribes led by
needs of eachother,
then

turned bloody battlefields,
and so many slaves brought a'sailing,

bloodshed over ownership
over man, land, and water;
turned gold diggers,
miners of fortune,
pioneering possession
from the east to the west

unto ill-defined and unprepared for ends
that so far have not
and may never
justify any means...

Once nurturing the spirit in all things
became havers of dominion over all things.
Once everything started being about
costs and payoffs,
So much of us has become
just a game of numbers,
and endless race to gain,
regardless of its diminishing of our common values
and the needs of our species
to survive within
the greater contextual web of spirit and life.

This is my totem
steeped in the remorses of a lost nation of voices,
crying out for a common good to come from
pains of being so very bad.

What Makes A Man

On so many levels,
there are untold numbers of systems
that confine and cajole the spirit of mankind
into distanced, fearful, hateful little boxes
that neither lift us up out of the darkness
nor remind us of the cosmic kindred spark
that lies within us all..
When viewed through the looking glass
we find the unobscured truth
of bias, belittling, bashing, and bloodletting
that often accompanies
the ignorant and inhumane face of oppression.

Toward those who seek
to be seen, heard, and counted
among the throws of humanity... often
we have placed a hierarchical condemnation.
Toward those most in need
of our empathy & compassion,
and even our respect,
society has only the most
rudimentary and unholy of disdain.
From the laws we make
to the bones we break...
there is little respect for the
equivalence of all mankind. Still.




When MLK walked among the men of color,
who happened to be collecting the garbage of Memphis...
what struck me most interesting
was the sign around all of their necks.
Neither a condemnation of the government,
nor their bosses, which allowed such shameful
working conditions to be the status quo,
nor was the message one demanding loudly any number of demands which could be had...

The message was simply this:
"I AM A MAN"

In this new series, i try to explore
this issue of what makes a man;
using what i believe are
the modern-day downtrodden men whom
society today has trapped into
the belief that somehow,
they are less than men.
When finished there will be 5-10 figures that represent
different views of a man,
cursed though he may be,
wearing the same sign,
"I AM A MAN"
to remind us once again whom it is we are looking at.

Art Show & Sale begins this Friday!

BUY LOCAL ART!


Perhaps ornamentation is your thing, perhaps it is finding the rare gift that says it all ... perhaps it is merely witnessing artistic expressions, whether they be great or small.
Whatever the case, please come to see my latest work at
CCSF Ft Mason Art Show & Sale
this weekend, beginning Friday from 6-9pm.

You may see some of these...
Probably this one...
...and maybe even some of this.
STAYED TUNED!!! & See you there:
FT MASON BLD.B
FRIDAY, 6-9PM,
SAT/SUN 12-5PM