Prevail

New Friend

This is my new friend.  You wouldn't know but my friend is faded blue. It loves to hang out..............

That was a very very cheap joke. The joke store does not take debit cards and I don't carry a lot of money.

Time

I yanked (A nice way to say stole) this leaf from a friend who is a photographer, Suzanne.  I thought the leaf was amazing.

Your thoughts? I Don't Want to Hear Them

I, Larry, without emotional or physical duress freely attest that I am a messy person. I have the messy gene.  This gene is blatantly apparent when I do anything creative with ink or oil.  Like illegal aliens longing for freedom, paint migrates from my brushes and canvas to my hands. From my hands, paint is transferred to my forehead. Apparently I can’t think without touching my head, and ears.   Yet the biggest victim of migrating paint is my clothing.  Many of my favorite shirts have inkblots or paint smears and I look like a walking psychological test.  Crazy people walk past me and say, “Butterfly!”

So, I have decided on a protective layer of cloth. First, I pondered an apron but the word "apron" has too many womanly connotations.  I am a manly man….cough   I even tried replacing the word “apron” with the word “smock” but smock sounds silly.   I landed on the idea of using a long sleeved large shirt.  Well, technically the shirt is an extra-extra large.  (Kindly keep your thoughts to yourself).  The shirt has to be VASTLY oversized to offer a large area of protection and to fit loosely over my clothing.  That is my story and I am sticking to it.

In other news, I am going on a diet and exercise regiment the very moment I post this blog. 

Jabbering

Recently, I went on a walk in the late afternoon.  I enjoyed a lingering stroll along a dirt road.   

I enjoyed the shadows that were thrown from a thin stand of trees.

But most of all, I enjoyed the endless jabbering of questions from my company. 

Fall

Recently I took a walk through the fields of northern Arkansas and I was disappointed in the fall colors.  The state has had a very dry fall, which depresses the colors.  In dry weather leaves turn from green to brown bypassing yellow, orange, and red.  Yet, I have hope. Today the land is receiving a slow steady rain and the damp air is crisp making a prefect fall day.

On cold wet fall days, we become introverts huddled within protective layers of clothing and walls; the dampness beckons for a reflective outlook.  We ponder the roads, which were taken or ignored.  Yet romantics can embrace reflection too strongly. Romantics could enjoy a cold rain simply for the simplistic pleasure of knowing the rain provides a push for the changing leaves of fall.

Maybe prefect fall days are just prefect fall days. 

20 minutes

Very fall I pluck a changing leaf and sketch it.  The sketch generally takes about one cup of coffee or five 80’s songs or three customers at a coffee shop.

Different shows

Many people are complacent in spirit and they are meant for safe harbors.  In a line, they are tethered to the docks as they softly rise and fall with the gentle waves.  They don’t own a single reckless belief.

Yet some souls are meant for the open seas. Commanding their horizon, they were born to cast their sails to a strong wind.  They have the ability to form uncommon beliefs and uncommon spirituality.

Own a reckless belief…..a belief that is fully yours.  

I kill the will to live

I am a mass murderer and my weapons of mass destruction are garden trowels, fertilizer, water and a sense that plants are endlessly thirsty. The plants, that I ignore, thrive and the plants, that I painstakingly nourish, die a slow agonizing death.

A few years ago, I planted a tree in the backyard. The tree was from my grandfather’s land.   While in its infancy, I mowed the tree with a lawnmower. Also my beloved chocolate lab, Nellie, confused to tree with a chew-toy and she stripped the tiny tree of limbs and foliage.  Today, the tree is biggest and healthiest plant in my yard. 

In the front yard, I planted two trees. I watered the trees during the hot months of summer.  I mulched the trees. The trees have been safe from random dog and lawnmower attacks.  Yet if the trees were patients in a hospital, they would be in critical care.  They are barely clinging to life.

Apparently my love crushes the will to live.  I likely need to take a weedeater to the front two sickly trees.  It is their only hope. 

stay foolish

Yesterday, my wife informed me that Steve Jobs died. She knew that I admired Steve. He was a visionary and a fighter.

On his battle with cancer Steve said, “My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes."

As Steve waged a war with cancer he never lost a trait, which I admire the most: fiery romanticism. In a speech Steve said,  “No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be…Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

Society is combative with people who dare to walk differently, speak differently, and think differently. Yet, we should have the courage to stray from the well-worn path. There is more danger in endlessly cloning the ideas than forming new ideas, regardless of the claims of foolishness.  So let’s be foolish. Let’s experiment. Let’s shoulder the risk of failure taking paths that others ignore.

On fools and the foolhardy Steve said, “Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.”

I like to end with this: think different.