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On the one hand this is nice eye candy and encouragement to practice your skills, and proof of scope development. Other hand; sooooo illustrates how composing as if you're a photographer might look impressive but doesn't get you between the goal posts. I see the artist equally in both efforts through time, don't you? And a few times, I see a better artist in the more primitive efforts. I suggest THOSE artists stop using your eyes to see out there and look inward. See that?  Draw That!

I needed to do this for a long time: drive a long ways off from here. And Cathy’s family reunion the perfect destination. Six hour drive to a place I’ve never been and back again. I’m not fully healed yet, but we’ve been isolated in this forest since my spine broke in 2014. High time to test the road, and the spine.

Month ago I had a bad fall from a ladder, that appeared to be healing. Conditions seemed good, if not great, leading up to the long drive. Then, five days before we were to take off I wrenched my back. Impossible to hide my condition from Cathy, through dark hours I struggled over taking the step back to a life of freedom and a return to adventure.

Back when travel and adventure were like the skin that encompasses me. I’d revel in cross country hippy-trips with my dear friend Artie. Visiting every major east coast city with the ever unflappable Doreen. Cath and I, over a month’s time stepped foot in every town and city across Florida. Once Jimmy and I climbed into my customized van Pegasus, filled her tank and just headed west. We played Gerry Rafferty’s BAKER STREET, and only that song on the CD player until we ran out of gas somewhere upstate. As sunrise poured through the windshield we laughed and we laughed and we laughed and we laughed. We laughed so hard that we cracked the glass!

But here I am now a trapped invalid struggling to give my wife a time away from chickens, endless Georgia pines and howling coyote to see people; family and friends. Many she hasn’t seen in a long time, a few not in over 50 years. I needed to do this. To step up and out of isolation. Face freedom and adventure once more.

Unfortunately, after six hours on the road I found myself chained to a motel bed wracked with pain. I insisted Cathy attend the reunion made so much better because all the out of towners stayed at the same motel. While I got to watch HBO and fight with my horrible pain. The ride home seemed like an endless crawl off a bloody battle field.

Maybe gone are the days of freedom and adventure.

One Thanksgiving eve Jimmy locked himself into my florist refrigerator and froze to death. On the day my last best friend Jimmy died I climbed into my van and drove till it ran out of gas somewhere on the outer banks of Georgia. Without pause the CD player rang out Beth Hart’s SKIN. video.search.yahoo.com/search/…

Sunset poured like a tsunami over the vehicle as I cried and I cried and I cried and I cried. I cried like a baby whose momma died. I searched my soul for possible reason over and over and over  and over. I searched like a broken hearted girl through a patch of clover. And the pain then as now is like blisters within my skin.

 

 

Beth Hart - Skin Lyrics

 

Album: Screamin' For My Supper

 

Screamin' For My Supper

Skin

She combs her hair & cleans her face

Closes the door & kneels to pray

It don't matter that she's alone

Beast or dragons she's going home

If i lay me down

Bow my head unto the ground

Would you heal my skin

& these blisters within my skin

She found today

So hard to say

I sweat the sheets

Too tired to play

& it don't matter

Cause I'm still alive

Beast or dragons

Won't make me hide

Another way

I just cant find the words to say

Cold where i lay

It's cold where i lay

Bones cracked to clay

A killer's in the way

Hot is my shame

Fire pulls my veins

For never is my name

Forever in my shame

Holy come heal me

Solely, delivery.