Collie

This is a commission work of a border collie.  It is a stretched 16x24" oval canvas painted with oils.

Chaos

     How quickly the memories fade, almost as if one is pouring water onto the porous sand.  The shop is over run with people.  Everyone is moving and darting around in a mad quirky mob.  Going to and fro, back and forth bumping into each other, but not touching.  Knocking each other down, but all remaining on their feet.  I decide to walk across the street to the house.  Such a simple task, but not today.  The ground is not solid,  alas there is no ground at all, just uneven columns of various sizes, that you have to jump from the top of one to the other.  Not very big, some the size of a water glass, but not to land on the top will send you to oblivion.
     The house is more crowded than the shop.  Who are these people and why have they invaded my space?  The pool is full from the deep end to the shallow end and no one is wet.  I will go up the road to the top of the hill.  Finally some solid ground.  The car salesman is singing a song to me, almost like a siren.  "Come on in, buy this car and you will go far."  So stupid, but I hand over the money and get in.  Some one asks, "Why didn't you get the 396?"  I did not want a race car, I replied.
     The car turned into a weird spectacle.  I stood still, but the world came by me.  Whatever I imagined I saw, slowly coming by as if I were on a conveyor belt.  Joe had to go into town to look at some houses his mother had picked out.  We seemed to be on the same belt.  Where he went, I went, along with the fox squirrel.  That gray and white squirrel wanted to be friends, which was OK with me, but he had to quit biting my ass.  It hurts, but it must be a squirrel thing, for he seemed to enjoy it.  We made him wait in the lobby as we got into the broken down elevator with the house salesman.  We watched the sides of the building go by as we ascended to the top floor.  The door opens directly into the housing project apartment.  Everything is neat and clean, stark contrast to all else that I had been seeing.  Walking back into the living room, the woman lay on the bed trying to seduce Joe to buy the house.  He is oblivious to her and her nakedness.  The squirrel got off the elevator and we step out the window to the ground below.
     Where did I meet Joe?  Out of the sea of people, he is the only one I connected with.  We don't speak, but we know.  We were on the same conveyor belt going through the city's golf course.  Everyone had on their visors and green shorts.  Cocktail glasses were the golf clubs, olives were the golf balls and their mouths were the holes in one.  Drunkenness and lust, people shoulder to shoulder, drunk with stupidity, all crowded togather, kept them standing.  Everyone connected at some point by flesh, not one in the crowd that is not wired to someone else, but not touching.
     So much information from the crowd.  "I have the cure for baldness, guaranteed or double your money back." said the bald man with the rug.  I have learned how to cure acne, diabetes and migraine headaches.  Did you know that you can soothe and cool hemorrhoids with just one wipe from this miracle jar?  I did not even know that I had hemorrhoids.  I discovered by looking into this glass box that a bear does his business in the woods.  If he does not use this brand, then he will have paper scraps left on his butt.  His mother will use a lint brush to remove it.  He at first would use a whole roll, but as he got older he learned to get by with a lot less.  My life has been enriched by knowing all of this.
     As I rode the belt to Grandpas' house the ground disappears again and the columns are the only way to navigate.  It was a huge task to reach the swing under the giant pecan tree.  When I reached the back porch, everyone disappeared.  Uncle Buddy was gone a long time ago, then Grandpa, then Grannie and now dad.  Who is next?  Then I saw that old demon sneaking around.  I had not seen him for a while, but he was always around, worrying the shit out of me, always in my mind.  Some days I was strong and others I was not.  What did he want?  Leave me alone, go away.  I had a plan to draw him in.  I would drink to fool him, I would spin the chamber to entice him closer.  I would cock the hammer to get him drunk.  I would put the barrel to my temple to make him giddy.  I did not look, but his foul oder got closer.  He was giggling and the stink was so close that I could taste it.  As he lost control, I spun around and shot him dead between his evil eyes.  Freaking idiot, that damn fox squirrel was the demon.

Longhorn

This was a fun project, just a little different than what I am used to.

Baling Hay

This is an oil painting on an 18x24" stretched canvas.  I buy hay from this man and he is my neighbor.

E-Bob-a-Ho: Part Two

This follows on from part one.
Bob was a typical little boy.  Curious about all things, he would stick his nose everywhere, causing him and myself a lot of pain.  I still had some finishing touches around the barn and he helped me.  He matched my every step.  If I held a board up and started to nail it, he would put his nose on the nail.  I banged my thumb so many times because of this, that I lost my thumbnail.  When I would scream, he would turn, buck, throw his tail up high and run off at breakneck speed.  When he saw that I was not chasing him, he would sheepishly walk back.
     I did not know a great deal about horses when he was born and it is amazing that I or my family did not get hurt; just good horses I guess.  When he was a couple of months old, I thought that he might need to be introduced to a halter.  That was a frustrating time.  If he were standing he would run off, if he were laying down he would not let me anywhere near his head.  Don Lisenby was an old horse trader that came by every so often.  I had bought a couple of horses from him and we had become friends.  One day he was at the barn and I asked him how to halter Bob.  Without answering, he looked at the horse, took the halter and walked over to Bob.  Bob looked at Don and just stuck his head in the halter pretty as you please.  If I would have had my handgun, I would have shot both of them.
     Now that I had a little control over him, I would let him go on trail rides with us.  That was something that he really enjoyed.  He would run off from us on the trail, into the woods.  I am sure that he must have felt all grown up.  All of a sudden an owl would hoot or a coyote would yelp and he would make a bee line back to us, bulldozing his way through the privets and bramble bushes.
     Sheila rode Honey Babe, a registered Tennessee Walker.  Honey Babe was probably the perfect horse as far as temperament goes.  Nothing ever shocked her and she was always calm, except for this Saturday.  I had Major, Honey Babe and Princess tied in the trailer.  Bob was at the rear of the trailer, but not tied up.  Sheila looked at the trailer and said, "I am not going to ride Honey Babe today!"  That caused me to look and I saw Honey Babe shaking her head violently, whinnying and stomping her feet.  That was totally out of character for her.  I walked over and looked into the trailer.  Bob was sticking his head under Princess' stomach and biting Honey Babe on the hind quarters.  Major and Princess were calm and cool as cucumbers.
     Most times when a horse is approached, you can tell what kind of mood they are in by the position of their ears.  Forward they are alert and curious, midway and they could care less.  All the way back and they are pissed off.  Not so with Bob.  As mischievous as he was, when he approached the other horses, they would lay their ears all the way back to Georgia.  Being the only youngster there, he thought that laid back ears was the normal greeting.
     I enjoyed playing pranks on the horses.  Sheila had a two feet by three feet mirror that she had discarded.  That seemed like the perfect prank.  I held it up to Major's face.  Startled, his ears went back, the horse in the mirror laid his ears back and Major backed up suddenly.  As he backed up his ears went forward.  The horse in the mirror put his ears forward, at that Major moved forward toward the mirror again.  As he got closer his ears went back, as did the horse in the mirror.  That was more than Major could handle and he hauled butt out of the barn.  That was too much fun.  Did I mention that I was outside the stall?  Now I had to go scare Bob with the mirror.  Mistake number one, I was in the pasture with him.  Mistake number two, I showed him his reflection in the mirror.  He did not like what he saw, turned on a dime and kicked his hind legs at the the mirror, which I was holding.  I dropped the mirror and ducked under his back legs.  Sheila and the girls were rolling in the dirt laughing at me.  I grabbed up the broken mirror, tucked my tail and walked back to the barn.
     Princess was not immune to these pranks.  She was the classic stuck up snob.  What am I doing here with you riff-raff?, was her attitude.  I have owned her for over Twenty years and can just now put my hands on her without her flinching.  One thing about her is that she is an above average intelligent horse.  Which made my scaring her all the more fun.  I feed them twice a day. She loves to eat and knows when I am going to feed them.  This particular afternoon I got to the barn early without the horses seeing me.  I hid behind the corner of the barn and I could hear them coming.  Princess was always in the lead.  As she rounded the corner, I stepped out and yelled.  It startled her so badly that she turned too quickly and fell to the ground.  Both of us could hear the other horses laughing at her.  That embarrassed her so much that she was pissed off with me for a week.  She did not even look at me for a few days.  It was so much fun though, that every chance I got, I would do it again.

First National

This is an 18 x 36" plywood panel that I painted with acrylic.  I painted it for a coming soon sign for the first national bank of ashford.

Horse

This is a commision work for Donnie Pool from Defuniak Springs Florida.  I used oil paint on a 12 x 18 inch oval canvas.

Dawson Mural

This is a mural for the city of Dawson, Georgia, that I painted on plywood with acrylic paints.  The size is 8'x20'.  The building in the background is the old firehouse.  The stacks of peanuts in the foreground, along with the mules, shows the agricultural heritage.

E-Bob-a-Ho: Part One

     Bob celebrated his eighteenth birthday on April 18.  In horse years he is 54.  However he still acts like a teenager.  From the moment he was born he was a character.  A mottled grey-black, he was all legs and tried for a while to figure out how to use them.  As he followed his mom around, Crystal our Siberian husky, was following him.  Curious and smelling, she got to close and quick as lightening, Bob kicked her in her chest.  Their relationship was ruined from that point on.
    He was a pleasant surprise.  When I bought his mother, the prettiest black mare I had ever seen, no one knew that she was pregnant.  I noticed that even though she was getting the same amount of food as Honey Babe and Major Midnight(nicknamed Major Medical), I noticed that she was really putting on the weight.  I began to suspect that a little one was on the way and had her vet-checked.  Yep, she was.
     On the day he was born, we all gathered round and gazed in wide wonder at the joy we had found.  Sorry, I had to throw that in.  Sheila, who has a way with animals said, "This one is going to be aggravating."  Maybe it was because he had just run through the barb wire fence.  We handled him all over and poked and prodded him everywhere, yes, to get him used to being handled.
     We had sold our house and was in the process of building another one when he was born.  For a month after he was born, all the horses stayed at the old place.  Sheila and I were finishing up the barn at the new place.  The house and barn were finished at about the same time.  We moved ourselves in first and after we were settled, we then brought over the horses.  Bob's mother Princess, was always easy to load and we had no trouble with her.  E-Bob-a-Ho on the other hand was a total jerk-off.  At his young age, he had already developed an attitude and there was no way in hell he was going to go into that trailer.  I had never had a halter on him and he was loose as a goose and crazy as a loon.  After a few minutes, I knew that I had to do something different.  I unloaded Princess, who was getting nervous about her unruly child and tied her up in her stall.  Bob soon followed her in, to satisfy his hunger and need for protection.  When he settled in for a meal, I eased the stall door shut.  Using cast off plywood, I made a makeshift hallway to the trailer.  The little bugger had been watching me work my tail off and was laughing to himself, about the mischief he had caused.  As soon as I opened the stall door, he bolted down the short hall and bounded into the trailer.  He stood proudly and patiently at the tie-down in the front of the trailer while I loaded Princess.  Now he was content to be in the trailer and I realized that I had lost the first round of chess.

Cruel Master

This dog needs to eat the man talking.
http://youtu.be/3jBqgjBVAhA

Drunks

As the smoke cleared, I reached over and picked up my severed leg off the blood soaked sand. What the hell was I thinking. For years I had tried to quit drinking, albeit not wholeheartedly. This night started out like many others before. A few quick drinks during the day, coming faster near dusk, and downright racing after dark. As with most drunks, I liked to associate with other drunks. When we all got together, there was no end to trouble.




Bill had a place in the country away from neighbors and judgemental onlookers. We all chipped in and bought a hog from a local farmer. Most of us grew up on a farm during a time when you butchered your own meat, so we were well versed in preparing a hog for roasting. We hung the hog up by his hind feet and stuck him in the neck. He squealed and thrashed as the blood poured from his arteries, and covered everything within a ten foot radius.



We had dug a pit and filled it with wood that we sat on fire. When the wood turned to hot coals, we covered them with a layer of dirt. Wrapping the hog in burlap and green leaves we put him over the coals and covered him with dirt. He was to cook this way for several hours. Having done this several times, we knew that we were in for a treat. However we all drank more than usual this night. Also there were some young drunks there that were new to our group. Unbeknownst to us they had planted some cherry bombs and M-80's under the dirt. The more we drank the hotter the fireworks became.



All of a sudden, one of them exploded, then another. It sounded as if a young war was taking place. We all scattered in the dark, scared shitless, not knowing where we were going. All of a sudden I hit a slick spot in the sand and went head over heels. When I landed and got my senses back, the smoke was clearing. I looked around and knew that I was stuck in the blood soaked sand where we had butchered the hog. The excitement had been too much for the straps holding my leg on and they snapped, allowing my artificial leg to be covered in hog's blood. I am going to have to quit drinking or get a stronger leg.