Month: December 2018

“Shenandoah”

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Arguably one of the most beautiful melancholic true American pieces of music you will ever hear. It belongs to the U.S. and has been sung around the world….and as such, belongs to all people. Like many of us U.S. Americans, this song is a blending of many cultures and stories. There is the story of first nation man Shenandoah who aided the new republic in defeating the British. Though he was true and valiant, he saw his people and lands ultimately diminish. It is said he stood 6’5″ and was a great war chief. The story in the original version alludes to a seven year courtship a trader held for Shenandoah’s daughter. He brought the chief a canoe full of gifts, but was rejected. Later, he brought liquor, and thus, when the chief was under the influence, he stole her away. Shenandoah’s life existed far away from the Missouri River. So how did this river become a part of the song?
Well, this song was a well used shanty sang by sailors who worked the boats from the Missouri, down through the Mississippi, and eventually onto the ocean faring ships….which made it a global song. Apparently, this is where the marriage of the river, the native princess and the men came together.  The story of a man’s love and his willingness to risk his life for that love was just too much not to sing about. It was a man’s song about a man, his desire and unfulfilled love. The river and its unrelenting power gives a beautiful metaphor for leaving, adventure and the power of love.There are many versions. The original likely carried a medium upbeat tempo. The meanings behind all of the versions take on a certain abstract interpretation that transcends any one simple story. But no matter the version, the tune stays constant, and sends the listener to distant places. Like a great river, this song is a confluence of stories that by themselves are wonderful, but together make for something words cannot describe. It is a song for the world.

Sandstone

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Long walks on the beach
Are safe
If you avoid 
Vertical sandstone

Sandstone is unstable
Can fall apart
At any time
And smother you

So much better
To walk on it
After is has weakened
And fallen apart

Tread underfoot
All the little 
Broken pieces
‘Til properly in place

Never mind
The singularity
Of intent or will
N’er a thought to that

All things in its place
The surface smooth
Flat as glass
Flat, perfect glass

Waiting to break
To explode
Revealing the chasm
Under self-exiled steps
 



Flowers Near Water

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Untrained
Defines the perceptive analysis.
Unschooled
Becomes the label of preference.

And so much has become
This lazy polarization
Of labels
Marginalization

There is power 
In marginalizing
Whether intentionally bigoted
Or by way of “righteous vengeance”

Neither
Have a good “place”
There is only darkness
When hatred 
Is the motive

“Flowers Near Water” has lived with me for some five years or so. It hasn’t always looked this way. It started as an 1/8″ plywood board that I gesso coated….then dried. 
Oils were brushed on…then removed, then reapplied. At some point, I may have used a palette knife or two.
The smell of oils is intoxicating, suffocating. I let it dry for a week or two and worked on it some more. Applying, removing, drying. This went on for months.
I made a frame for it. Hung it. But always felt it needed more. On some occasions while I was painting another piece….if my colors were right, I would add more touches to my friend “Flowers Near Water”.
Recently, I noticed that some of the white paint had too much drying agent and is turning yellow. I will return to this piece to freshen it up….to do my best to make it whole. 
Or I could just throw it away.