Handyman 

Barton Sutter 

The morning brought such a lashing rain

I decided I might as well stay inside

And tackle those jobs that had multiplied

Like an old man’s minor aches and pains.

I found a screw for the strikerplate,

Tightened the handle on the bathroom door,

Cleared the drain in the basement floor,

And straightened the hinge for the backyard gate.

Each task had been a nagging distraction,

An itch in the mind, a dangling thread;

Knocking a tiny brass brad on the head,

I felt an insane sense of satisfaction.

Then I heard a great crash in the yard.

The maple had fallen and smashed our car.

Inside Again

Walt Sample

I’m alone

Like an arrow without a quiver

I wanna come back home

Like rain on a river

Take me back

Let me back

Inside

Welcome me

Like a sunflower greets the sun

Your where I wanna’ be

One and one make one

Hold me tight

Squeeze me tight

Again

Take me back

Let me back

Inside

Inside again

Five years ago today, 33 Chilean Miners were trapped in a gold mine one mile below the earths surface. 

The saga grabbed my heart and soul while it crawled along for 69 days. 

Wow! 

Faith is a tool forged by belief. 

They are living proof.

The 34th Man

Walt Sample

August filth two thousand ten

Gold mine in Chile caved in

Thirty three men trapped a half mile down

We prayed they were safe and sound

Very little water and two days worth of food

They tried to stay in a positive mood

The devil came and saw ‘em but they chased him away

Then they got down on their knees and prayed

Seventeen dark days in the golden tomb

They prayed they would soon be exhumed

Like a miracle a small hole appeared

Light from above was the end near

Thirty fourth man was with ‘em all of the time

Deep in the belly of the mine

Like Jonah they would be expelled

From their living hell

Sixty nine long days later

One by one they made ‘er

Out of the capsules they appeared

Thirty three smiles from ear to ear

The thirty fourth man deep in the mine

Wasn’t trapped there could of left anytime

Taught the men how to keep the faith

Walk in the light and accept God’s fate

*****

Song is in Barangie Hall.

Couldn't figure out how to move it here.

Why does it hurt me more

Walt Sample

                         

Stormy violet 

Colors my pallet 

Definitely blue 

Cloudy mood 

Why does it hurt me more than it hurts you 

Why does it hurt me more than it hurts you

Angry brushes

Slapping canvas

Painting proof

I can’t get over you

Why does it hurt me more than it hurts you 

Why does it hurt me more than it hurts you

Indian Sunset

Bernie Taupin

As I awoke this evening

With the smell of wood smoke clinging

Like a gentle cobweb hanging

Upon a painted tepee

Oh, I went to see my chieftain

With my warlance and my woman

For he told us that the Yellow Moon

Would very soon be leaving

"This I can't believe", I said

"I can't believe our warlord's dead

Oh, he would not leave the chosen ones

To the buzzards and the soldiers' guns"

Oh, Great Father of the Iroquois

Ever since, I was young

I've read the writing of the smoke

And breastfed on the sound of drums

I've learned to hurl the tomahawk

And ride a painted pony wild

To run the gantlet of the Sioux

To make a chieftain's daughter mine

And now you ask that I should watch

The red man's race be slowly crushed

What kind of words are these to hear

From Yellow Dog whom a white man fears?

I take only what is mine, Lord

My pony, my squaw, and my child

Oh, I can't stay here to see you die

Along with my tribe's pride

I go to search for the Yellow Moon

And the fathers of our sons

Where the red sun sinks in the hills of gold

And the healin' waters run

Tramplin' down the prairie rose

Leavin' hoof tracks in the sand

Those who wish to follow me

I welcome with my hands

I heard from passin' renegades

Geronimo was dead

He'd been layin' down his weapons

When they filled him full of lead

Now there seems no reason

Why I should carry on

In this land that once was my land

I can't find a home

It's lonely and it's quiet

And the horse soldiers are comin'

And I think it's time I strung my bow

And ceased my senseless running

For soon I'll find the Yellow Moon

Along with my loved ones

Where the buffaloes graze in clover fields

Without the sound of guns

And the red sun sinks at last

Into the hills of gold

And peace to this young warrior

Comes with a bullet hole

https://youtu.be/hrAwGjM0gR4

Ran across a tattered cigar box with 2 dried out thread bare rubber bands laughingly securing the contents while I was foraging through boxes in the basement. As soon as I touched King Edward the bands fell in two and wrinkled tubes of watercolors and a few red sable brushes fell out on the concrete floor. My watercolor set! I think I packed 'em away when Jimmy Carter was living in the White House. Immediately I said to myself, "I need to paint some watercolors."

So, to refresh my techniques I you-tubed how to paint watercolors and stumbled across Sterling Edwards. Great artist and teacher; got me back in the saddle after a few video lessons. 

Take a look at a few of his paintings.

http://sterlingedwards.com/

He has a great web site and blog. Loved his entry posted 9/19/14:

I find it interesting that when musicians are proficient at playing multiple instruments they are considered genius, whereas painters who become proficient at painting several different styles and mediums are often labeled as "trying to find themselves". As visual artists most of us go through an evolutionary process of experimentation with different styles and mediums as we endeavor to express ourselves through our work.  I personally find this a necessity to prevent becoming bored and complacent with my painting. A lot of the professional  artists that I know agree with this ideology.  Many artists do master multiple styles and mediums. So, why aren't they considered genius???

That is a great question!

What do you think?

My guiding light for interests and hobbies has been this quote by

Pablo Picasso.  

"I am always doing that which I cannot do, in order that I may learn how to do it."

I have always enjoyed doing a little bit of everything. 

Keeps me fresh.

Run this by your brain a few times-

"It takes a long time to become young."

Pablo Picasso

 Black snake killing a copperhead!

Black snakes are good to have around unless you are fond of multiplying mice, big spiders and copperheads. 

Just sayin'.

Some writing advice for the weekend.

Commit to memory.

Possible pop quiz.