Three years ago today, John took the train for the coast...

John Paul Verhulst was my friend and he has been dead and gone now for three years. He was only forty-five when he passed. Some of us know that it was some kind of miracle he made it as far as he did as John had a special talent for stepping on the Devil's tail. John was a rock star in search of an audience (and band for that matter). He loved his rock'n'roll music and listened to nearly everything, but above all others, there was his beloved Rolling Stones and The Doors. Whenever I randomly hear either of those bands on the radio now, I always have to nod and say, "Hello John". He listened to nearly everything, searching out the new stuff before anyone else. John was the first punk rocker in our group, inflicting the Sex Pistols on our virgin ears. Blasting The Cramps and Nina Hagen and after a viewing "The Hunger", Bauhaus, he was always on a quest to find new sounds. His intellectual curiosities were not limited to music, John was a student of history, particularly World War II, but could speak on nearly any time or place in history. He was always reading at any time of the day or night. I recall coming home at 2 am (we were roommates for a time) finding him standing in the kitchen stirring a pot of chili, punk rock shaking the walls (you did not want to be his neighbor) while reading a dog-eared copy of William L. Shirer's "The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich". He'd look up and flash what we all called his "Shit-Eating Grin" and he was King of the World at the moment and it was good. John was the smartest, most handsome and most worldly among us misfits. When he walked into the room, people damn well knew it. He would take lemons and make a rocket launcher out of them. He had a tendency to behave badly when confronted by authority figures. And the whole time flashing that smile.  John had the air of someone that would fall into it one day. He had too many advantages to fail. While the rest of us mortals scrambled to get through the days, John floated above it all. When gravity finally did take hold, it was vindictive and cruel and John came to Earth hard. "The Lifestyle" took it's toll in a hundred ways and left John savaged and weak. The doctors gave him six months and his "Fuck You" was to go on another three years. By the time all this terrible shit had come down, John and I had long since drifted apart. Years before, I knew that I had to let that life go and there was no room for a half measure. You were either on the train or you weren't. I had other places to go. Before the shadow came, a mutual friend called me out-of-the-blue one day and arranged for us all to get together. We had a few beers and some lunch and sat together one last time, though we didn't know it at the time and snapped a few photos to remember the moment. After that, John and I talked on the phone from time-to-time and made plans to get together again, but something always broke those plans and I never saw him again. Now, it's hard to believe that he's gone. John was a wild, complicated mutant of a man and I am proud to have known him. We were close as brothers for a time and he tattooed my soul and for that I will always remember him. I am listening to The Rolling Stones, "Exile on Main Street" and the Keith Richards' song "Happy" just came on. Hello John. Richards was his a role model and spiritual uncle for John, so quite fitting to hear that now. So, on this third, sad anniversary of my friend's departure from this world, I ask you to raise a glass for John. He was an original human being and left his mark on this old swinging sphere and he will be missed....

Miss you brother,

OK HW

New Growth...

We've been having an unusually rainy and chilly spring, which has helped our humble garden get off to a good start. Last year I tried my hand at growing potatoes in a bag and after spending ten dollars on gardening soil and pea gravel, I wound up with exactly zero potatoes. The bag disintegrated and I left the soil in a pile. Fast forward to this year when I find a few sprouting potatoes under the sink and decide to throw them in that same pile and see what would happen. Despite the lack of effort, the little buggers are making me proud! I might be eating some homegrown taters yet!

This year's garden consists of the taters, a few tomato plants, basil, rosemary, oregano and a leaf lettuce mix grown from seed. It's a modest showing for sure, nothing that will sustain us if the grid goes down, but it's something. Watching those growing plants makes me happy, gives me hope and veg from your own garden always tastes the best.

In other growth news, this blog was included in the AltDaily Blog Roll, a fine honor and welcomed connection to one of the alternative culture voices in this area.

OK HW

Image for May 20, 2012 - Once You're Wet, You're Wet...

I am a little behind in my hiking right now. Last weekend I was in Mississippi visiting my Dad and so did no walking. Weekend's are prime time for me to stack-up some big miles. Typically I'll accumulate anywhere from ten to eighteen miles from Friday to Sunday, so losing last weekend has put me slightly behind. No matter, this last week I have been hitting it hard to close the gap. Yesterday I managed a seven miler and committed to the same today. I woke to gray skies. A light, misty rain settled over the Sunday morning, for me, perfect hiking weather. Less than perfect weather calms things down. People stay indoors. The causal joggers, the knuckleheads with the super loud stereos in their cars, the families on bicycle blocking the path are all home on their sofas watching whatever those people watch. The secret to hiking in the rain is understanding that once you get wet, you are wet, so get over it. I've hiked in some fierce storms in Scotland and Ireland and enjoyed the extra challenge. The whipping winds and pelting rain puts a lot of energy in the air that creates a sense of urgency. Once the clouds finally do part and the sun returns, it alls seems sweeter.

OK HW

I'd Buy That for a Dollar!

I stopped off at the Dollar Store tonight on my way home from work and stumbled on this little gem, a green plastic tiki mug! It's been a while since I've come across a tiki mug that I don't have already. There was a variety of colors, but I settled on just one, a green one because it is my favorite color. I figure I can also use it next St. Patrick's Day!

OK HW

Shining Some Light...

A couple of posts back I talked about a Kickstarter project my friend Barbara Nesbitt has launched to raise funds to record an album. She's about halfway to her goal and has a little over three weeks to go, so if you want to be part of helping bring some great music to the world, check out her project and consider throwing something in.

"Light and Brick" by Casey Gwinn

Even before there was a Kickstarter or the internet, I have supported other artist's projects. The mad ones, the creative ones are my tribe and by my code, we have to help each other out, show up for the opening, the concert, the reading, hold the mic boom or light, make sandwiches, roll around in the dirt after midnight to get THE SHOT, whatever it takes and I've done all that and more. Art is never made in a vacuum, even if that artist is alone, there are always unseen hands moving in the air behind their head, phantom tongues wagging in their ear, some lifting up and others tearing down. I hope to add a pat on the back or some helpful praise and comments to see that work gets done. Artists, and I use that label in an all encompassing way to include writers, film makers, poets, musicians; you know who you are, also need money. Art is made in this world and of this world and money is the air we breath, the electricity that keeps things going. Web sites like Kickstarter and IndieGoGo have been creating opportunities for artists to fund their projects and connect with a community of likeminded people. We are all patrons now. The tide can rise for us all and there's plenty of room on the boat.

With all of that in mind, I've hit on the idea to commit to investing $25 a month in a new creative project through the end of 2012. So, if you have something going on and would like to get my support, all I ask is you follow me on Twitter (@weaverwerx) and send me a link to your project. I am registered with both Kickstarter and InideGoGo and will only consider projects listed on there. I will make my decision by the end of every month and reserve the right to make my choice at anytime during the month. If I do choose your project, not only will you get my money, but I'll also help to spread the word by blogging and tweeting about it. I am ready to shine my light on your efforts, so send me what you got!

Special thanks' to my good friend Casey Gwinn for use of his photo. He has a wonderful photo blog called COGfoto, please check it out!

OK HW

African Mask Drawing - Basonge, Zaire

I made some time today to do some drawing. It's been too long since I sat down and disconnected from the electronics and fell into an image. Losing myself in making marks and playing games with shadow and light. I've been thinking about African masks lately. They hold a mystery and power that stirs deep waters in my soul. They are one of my favorite things to draw. I have several books of African masks that I idly flip through for inspiration. My "model" came from a book called Masks of Black Africa (African Art Art of Illustration) that has a fantastic selection of masks from all over Africa to browse. I choose this mask because it's mix of silly and scary. The mouth is the silly bit for me. This is simple black ballpoint pen on paper.

OK HW