Rest in Peace Roddy Piper

I'm shocked and saddened to find out today of the tragic death of one of my all time favorite wrestlers. Roddy Piper has died at 61. He played an equal roll along with Hulk Hogan to launch the WWE into the billion dollar industry that it is today. It was their relationship in the ring that made wrestling explode into the mainstream. Wrestlemania was born out of everyone's hatred for Piper and love of The Hulkster. What sucks is for all those millions upon millions of dollars that he made for Vince McMahon, during his last few years, Mr Piper was probably working his ass off just to pay the bills and put food on the table. Very sad. Rest in Peace brother. You will be missed.

Bucket List

Lately I find myself saying "I'm going to put that on my bucket list". The trouble is I don't have a list. So this is my attempt to get back into working on this blog and write my bucket list. I may come back and revise this list from time to time. We will see....

MY BUCKET LIST:

Motorcycle across the United States 

Bench press 300 pounds 

Presidential Range traverse in the White Mountains of New Hampshire

Own a 1977 Black Trans Am

Travel with my family out west in an RV

Climb the Grand Teton

Become a student of Kendo

Make my own bourbon

Take up smoking a pipe

That's it for now.  I know I'm forgetting some, but this is just off the top of my head.

Dead AC Compressor

winter is good

my friends the trees
all twisted and weighted down
like me
thoughts of death and the dying
I love the bleakness and cold
a pair of ravens seem amused and come to check on me
their voice raises my spirit even further
hands frozen
enjoying the cold burning my finger tips
only small moments like this
can I call my own
how amazing
I get to draw this cold into my lungs
only for an instant though

Bourbon and Archery

arrows missing their mark
a mellow glow
a smile greets the setting sun
glancing shot off the lawn mower
feigned anger, I loose another
it's not about accuracy
this is my time
the recurve and me
an arrow shatters another glass jar
making me laugh
sitting in the darkness now
in the grass
bow on my lap
the Makers hits its Mark
and the moon smiles

Surviving The Flames!

Some of the survivors of my first firing. I dug a couple more out of the ashes after I took this picture.

THE SACRED PIPES

I thought adding a photo of the GREAT ERNEST BORGNINE was a classy move on my part.

The Kiln

 This was my first attempt at making clay pipes. Actually it's my first attempt making clay anything, also this is my first kiln ( I have some experience with polymer clay). I thought about buying an electric kiln (for about a second) but that just didn't seem right. Too sterile for me. No real heart and soul. Real flames lapping and licking at my creations, that's what I wanted. What I needed! It all started this past winter when I was kicking around the idea of making a wooden pipe to smoke some tobacco. Someone ( Sir Robert Williams) suggested making a clay pipe. That sparked a frenzy of pipe making. I had (have) no idea how to make a pipe . I didn't even know what kind of clay to use. I bought some clay at a local craft store and made 30 of them.  I set them on the shelf and waited for spring and the snow in my backyard to melt. Once the snow melted I bought some cement blocks and a few bags of sand from Home Depot and built myself a kiln. I had no plans other than building a square box to hold heat and fire. I used patio blocks and sheet metal to close up the top, once the fire died down.  I buried the pipes in wood shavings and some scraps of wood left over from all the oak and maple battle hammers I made over the winter. I started the fire around 10 am on Saturday. At 9pm that night it was still putting off heat, so I left them in overnight to cool off gradually.  Sunday morning I eagerly open up the kiln and dug out my treasures. To my surprise they all turned black. I assume this is due to massive overheating! Who cares. Anyway, about half of them didn't make it. But half did, and I love them! They are my children. I can't wait for my next firing!

Just another day with Prudence.

You don't just dive right in when your cleaning up dog shit all over your backseat. Especially when your two dogs are still back there and one of them is an English Bulldog still covered with shit. I thought Prudence had outgrown this peculiar quirk in her personality because she hadn't done it in a while. I was driving along, calm and serene, on this beautiful morning when that familiar smell engulfed me. Immediately I started screaming incoherently at her. I actually gave myself a headache from all my yelling. Sushi, my Japanese Chin was petrified at this. I think she believed that somehow this was her fault. Prudence was looking for birds out the window with one shit stained paw resting on the back of my seat, totally oblivious to my screams. There was shit everywhere. Eventually I got a hold of myself, put some music on and tried to relax. I picked up some baby wipes at the market and pulled into the hardware store to try and clean this mess up. At first I was delicately trying to clean all the shitty footprints being careful not to get any on me, but it was all over the carpet and the seats. It was even in the door compartments. There was a even shitty paw print on my Highwaymen CD!  It was embedded in the bulldog's feet as well. Eventually I gave up trying to keep the shit off of me and just started to scrub everything. Sushi is drooling and trembling in fear in the corner while Prudence is like "Whatcha doin Daddy". No longer angry, I just scrubbed her feet and gave her a pat on the head. I shot Sushi a dirty look. Just because.

Winter's Artistry

Wind and Snow created something amazing on my skylight last night!

Gearing Up For War!

My family is becoming concerned with my growing battle hammer collection. I have no answer for them.  I'm compelled to make things that don't make sense. Sensible is boring..and paralyzing. I'm still working on making bows. Also, since seeing the new Hobbit movie I want to make that giant crossbow that shoots steel spears. I can't find a picture of it though and I forget the name. I'll have to skim through the book to see what it's called. Anyway, the top hammer and the small one in the middle are my latest ones, the way they came out pleases me. No matter what anyone thinks I'm going to keep moving along this path to see where it takes me.

Karstens Ridge on Denali

I snapped this picture in 1993 on the north side of Mount McKinley.

A New Kind Of Superhero!

A man who dances to the beat of a different drum. His drum is the planet....and he beats this drum with his fists....not in anger but in celebration. Summoning all the forest dwellers.....the furred and the feathered...his kin. Turning himself into an owl he soars or a lowly scum turtle scrubbing under the leaves for a worm. His fist still beating Earth Mother, rekindling her core with the happiness of fire and burning. Then....transforming into Wind....he is gone.

ramblings.....

Nighttime down in my bunker. Alone. Can't seem to shake the feeling of not belonging on this planet. At least not in this time period. I wish they would send me back from whence I came.....the mid 1800s......I think. I'm not sure though. The only thing for certain is I'm not from this era. If I'm to stay, here in the present, a revolution needs to happen. A renaissance of sorts. A time of art and music, good bread, and heavy cast iron power tools from the 1950s. Beards and pocket watches, pretty dresses, old Colt pistols, and Boraxo hand soap. I want a fucking pocket watch! I want a day without a text message.  Just breathing in the sunshine. How about a day skipping rocks with Andy Griffith?

Rainy Saturday with Lou

 It's a cold and rainy Saturday.....dreary. Everyone in the house is sick. I've been working on this Lou Costello sculpt for a while now. Sometimes I'm happy with it, other times I want to flatten it. I may make a trek out and get a coffee then head over to Home Depot for some battle hammer material. I'm going to put a steel (Valerian Steel) handle on the next one.