Wednesday, March 27, 2019



When I ventured west to Missoula ,Montana back in the mind roaming seventies, this jacket went with me.
When that attempt at “a new life” succumbed to a reality for which I was completely unprepared, it kept me warm as I hitched back across the country. It pillowed my head in many diverse locations and terrains without any complaint. And for some reason, it had the magic of always smelling good.
When I became a full time merchant seaman, icy winds and salty spray were kept at bay with no complaint. When I worked at the refinery loading trucks and gauging tanks this light weight  coat protected me like a heavy weight. Even though it was illegal to wear on the job, it maintained an air of invisibility that deflected any observations from those who would have been critical.
When I went to Canada to work with horses needs all through the winter; from feeding  to disposing of the aftermaths, this companion in arms accompanied me, with no complaint. When I went to work at the ice rink for four hour stretches, it allowed me the enveloping warmth not distracted by the freezing conditions. It’s not the most attractive piece of apparel, stains and sew spots, and maybe outmoded style wise, but I can’t think of something I have treasured for so long, and faithfully than this amigo in haberdashery. Mucho gracias you powder blue love of my life!

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Friday, March 28, 2008

Moose Bathing...in Fundy Bay


Based on an actual sighting in St.Martins harbor in September, 2007. This started with all the intentions of being a loose, free depiction with just lines of reckless ambiguity and my nerve went out with the tide. Reverted to whatever dictates my little grey cells are comfortable with, and am not totally disappointed with the results. Maybe not too far in the future, my lines will find release from the constraint of severe dotalism.

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Woe is the lack chutzpa



Have been stuck in this arena of me being the cowering christian to the lion of intimidation patroling my "artistic" impulses. No enthusiasm equals dreck, as can be witnessed by this latest representation I call "reflectons". ( doesn't even deserve a capital R). Need to let the ink show up in a way that excites me. Kinda happened in the sail patterns of the CuttySark. Interesting story about why the figurehead holds a horsetail. Look it up in Robert Burns "Tam O'Shanter".