hawk

Getting by with a little help from my friends.

I’d been keeping all these in a big plastic box because I was too lazy to make mounts for them. I’d usually get as far as calling the piece done, snap a picture and add it to the pile. A good friend stopped by the other day to see some of my works. She suggested the plastic box might not be the best place for these birds. She recommended some good wall mounting options. Thus lighting the fire under me to get them truly finished.

Now that they’re up, I can’t imagine why I didn’t finish the wall mounts for them sooner. It was a great excuse to go to the hardware store.

I am very grateful to have the inspiring and supportive friends and family that I do….and a hardware store down the tracks from my house.

And a Thank You to whomever has squandered a perfectly good minute reading my words and looking at my birds.

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With each passing moment.

I sat down for 5 hours with a piece of plywood today. While I sat several cameras captured the passing moments. With which I am planning another time-lapse video project. I had done the pencil work for this over the last few weeks. My recent trip to Hawk Hill in Marin County, CA. inspired me further to make this project come about. Today with a free afternoon and all my laundry done, I sat down to bring the myth to the page.

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A poem and a pencil drawing.

That was the summer our kite strings tanged up together.
The one that dragged me through the years and one hundred thistle patches to right here standing on your front porch.
No flowers in hand, just some dried Bull thistle stalk.
Standing before you, I can hear the years start to talk.
I’m lost without you I wish she would say,
truth being I can see without you clear as day.
Nothing echoes for tomorrows sake, no words from either of us.
My mind races towards the first fire escape, looking for a way through the red tape.
I’d rather be anywhere else, maybe in Chicago waiting for a bus, or East St. Louis waiting for a train.
but for this everlasting second staring into her eyes brings an unnerving sort of pain.
I could be in South Dakota, drinking a can of orange soda.
Or maybe a Laundromat in California, counting change, hoping my thoughts could re-arrange.
I look to my feet to curse whichever shoe, for bringing me here to stand before you.
My goodness though, the visions of our shared past.
An idea I knew could never last.
Laid on the desk and ignored until now,
once pausing to wipe the sweat from my brow.
And all the while under the eaves of your front porch.
Where we stood in this unending brief passage of our time together apart.

Another night, wood grained black and white.

I owe you something with color in it. I know, it’s been some time. Well, another night will pass without watercolor. I finished my fourth flying hawk on plywood. This is a Broad-winged Hawk. Found east of the Rockies.

There is a story that ties me to every bird I draw, sometimes it requires 6 degrees of separation, sometimes it’s tied into the very tail feathers. With my time pen in hand I’ve been working on writing all these connections down. So that I might better illustrate everything better.

Call it a self portrait in words and birds.

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How to trap a hawk with a #2 pencil.

I cut and sanded the plywood over the tailgate of my truck out in the parking lot today after work.
There’s still sawdust on the asphalt at 1am. The wind will take it soon enough I resolved.
I used two Dixon #2 pencils to bring to focus the Hawk I was seeing in the wood grain.
It’s a Zone-Tailed Hawk, native to southern California, Arizona, and Mexico.
But another of many birds I’ve only seen in books, and my pencil work.
Gliding between wing beats, that’s how it will stay on this page.
Until I set it loose in paint sometime not long from now.
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Through a river of music and paint on a rainy winter day.

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A woman sings to me on the stereo speakers.

In my empty house she sings, “You’re only as helpless as your heart agrees”.

I moved paint around on plywood until a bird flew out of it.

My shoe laces are a mess, dinner is running late.

Hats off to you rain clouds.

California dreams of painting hawks for the stars.

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A few nights ago I had a dream Brad Pitt’s agent  hired me to fill a hallway of his (Brad’s) mansion with scientifically accurate hawk paintings. while I worked there has a huge party going on. Jennifer Aniston and John Goodman asked me to do the same for their houses. I remember how the drawings look quite well. Rare for me, details from dreams fade fast from my memory. So I’m going to try and paint one like I did asleep.  I got some plywood from the hardware store. It has some pretty nice grain on one side. I’m going to leave as much bare wood grain as possible. Working in acrylics, pencil work laid out this evening. It all ready looks like one from the dream.
Oh yeah, Alec Baldwin was there at the party too I think.