A Poem for Labor Day

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Poem for a Small Meat Shop for Mit, Rudy and Son of Rudy   Monday morning always a zoo, freight rolling in and the restaurants calling in out of sirloins, out of tenderloins, out of pork chops for… Read More

Cheers! Mother Jones and a Beer on Jesus

“Mother, we haven’t had anything to eat today,” said the three miners from Mexico, “or yesterday, or the day before, and we are dead broke.” I said it would be remarkable to find a miner any other way…. Read More

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My tree is growing. Its slow going because I am allowing it to be slow going, as I work out composition and scrabble in my scrap bin for the perfect little bit. I love working on this.

Tonight’s sketchbook visitor got rowdy and somehow got paint on my new phone that I’ve only had a few hours. It was inevitable. But still.

We got art night going on here. He’s making a flaming duck handle for his ice fishing pole. It may or may not get Shelby stripes. It’s a pike killer, for sure.

Three blocks down, 13 more to go. Nothing earth shattering, yet. I love working on this and thinking about the people and love and struggle and joy these colors represent. So much beauty in this world and we all have a right to be part of it. In fact, it’s only beautiful, if we are all part of it. The super hard part is coming up, but I’m feeling ok, because notice, if you will, the Y seam on that top block that went together like buttah.

Last night’s visitor is this morning’s sketchbook study.

Can you find the hare?