'Boose-aholic

I told you I like cabooses. At the west edge of Marietta someone has taken three cabooses, and a couple of box cars and made a home.

From cowardice to courage, a rock

The sky turned as black as the gloom in his heart when his friend was executed.

The fisherman was afraid, confused.

He wanted to go back to his boat--to smell the water, to feel the breeze, to see the canvas sail stretching in the wind, the hear the lap of water against the wooden hull, to grasp the thick rope nets with his callused hands, to strain with the weight of the fish, to taste the thrill of a full catch, to sweat with fish-smell under the sun, to come home bone-tired at the end of a long day. Then he could sit down, his tanned, muscular arms and back aching, but satisfied, happy. Then he could  drink wine, eat fish, tell stories, sleep soundly.

He knew he could do that--free of doubt, free of failure, a success.

Instead, he was in this city, cornered, afraid, wondering what happened to his life, to his friends, to his Friend. He'd turned his back on them, acted like a coward.

He was ashamed of his fear, depressed by his actions.

What had happened to him, he wondered? He'd lost his confidence, his backbone. Never in his life had he backed down from a fight and run like he had these past few days.

 It was time to go fishing, back to the only thing he knew for sure.

***

But 50 days later, he stood up before a huge crowd, rock-solid, shook off the fear, ignored the threats and ridicule and danger and opened his mouth in defiance.

He spent the rest of his life turning the world upside down with a revolutionary message, even though every time he spoke he was hammering another nail in his coffin lid. 

And after 30 years, when he spoke his mind once too often, they'd string him up just like his friend. But no one questioned his courage then; he was long past cowering. The fisherman faced his own death with rock hard will, without any gloom in his heart.

What happened to him?

The sky turned black, and the fisherman and his friends fled. Someone else buried the friend, and then two mornings later, the fisherman summoned up enough courage and guilt to go to the grave.

But it was empty, and the blackness in his life vanished. A few days later, his friend forgot the fisherman's failure, and gave him a new fishing job. He found rock hard courage, respect, hope, a life's purpose—and eternity.

That’s why he bravely stood up before a religious crowd and told them they'd murdered his friend, and there was good news and hope for everyone. Because of the empty grave which filled his empty heart. 
You can see what he went through in his words many years later. Writing a letter to  persecuted followers of his friend, he probably almost cried as he remembered: 
"In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.. ."

Remember the big fisherman, Peter, and his Friend, when the sun comes up behind the lilies this Easter Sunday, and the blackness vanishes.

Thirsty country, watercolor

Windmill country, 17 by 22 300 pound Fabriano Artistica paper--the third try on this windmill (see previous posts) I saw near Black Mesa for me. Previous were 9 by 12. I wanted to try something bigger for a frame I already have, and tried some things I saw Charlie Russell do in the exhibit at Fort Worth. More work ahead.

Music at Paseo First Friday

Poetry month giveaway

Want a free book of poetry written by an Oklahoman?

It's National Poetry Month and the third annual Big Poetry Giveaway.


Thanks to Jeanetta Calhoun Mish and Mongrel Empire Press http://www.mongrelempire.org/, I will pick two winners May 1 and Jeanetta will ship the books.  No catches, no costs. All you have to do is comment on this post to enter your name.

What is the BIG POETRY GIVEAWAY-- Bloggers across the nation give away two poetry books. The goal is to share our favorite poets with others as well as to visit different blogs and see who others are reading.

Theoretically, I can ship you one of my poetry books, but the fly in the buttermilk--as my folks used to say--(actually there are two flies in the buttermilk) is I ain't a poet and I don't have a book of poetry. So you get a chance--the odds are much better than the mega million dollar lottery--on one of two books of poetry, thanks to Jeanetta.


The books are "Subterranean Red" by Kathleen Johnson and "Leaving Holes" by Joe Dale Tate Nevaquaya, both of which I'll be reviewing on this blog in the next few days. 


 Jeanetta is an activist and artistic force for the state (even if she is spoiled and has moved with her hubby to the foothills of the Sandias in Albuquerque). A poet herself, I met her at the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum when her book won the Wrangler Award. She also had the dubious distinction of buying one of my watercolors. So I've received lots of free books from her to review, and that's introduced me to many Okie poets in the last few years, enriching my life and creativity. She's doing what she loves, running a small independent press and giving voice to a growing literary movement in Oklahoma. Woody Guthrie would be proud. You need to meet her, and can best do that by clicking on the link to Mongrel Empire Press and buying her book "Work is Love Made Visible," about her family growing up in Oklahoma, complete with old black and white family photos.


Meanwhile, all you have to do is comment on this link and we'll conduct the drawing. Of you're free to  comment on the book reviews, and I'll count that too.


PS: If you're a blogger, or poet, and want to take part in this shindig, check this link:
.http://ofkells.blogspot.com/2012/03/big-poetry-giveaway-has-begun-be-part.html