Friday, December 5, 2008


Good friend and wife of Mike. She's an excellent cook, Artist, and is opinionated as I am.


A very intelligent fellow and good friend. He understands and speaks fluent Electron and can also make a mighty fine bottle of wine.


You can't go backwards
You must go forward
You have not been what you could be
When you are the only one who enslaves you
Then you're the only one who can set yourself free
Don't run away
Question the Answers
Live your life like it's on fire
Your one mistake is to think
That you've made one
Don't run away
You can't have mountains without the valleys
You can't grow high if you won't go deep
You can't do over what you've done already
Expecting something new to see
I will not be bought
I won't be caged
Won't stay behind these walls where it's safe
I'm tired of trying to compensate for you
Kendall Payne

Monday, December 1, 2008

The Fam

Who am I O Sovereign Lord
And what is my family
That your have
brought me this far?

Sunday, November 30, 2008


I must confess I did this rough sketch from a painted portrait I found in a magazine. What attracted me was the look in the model's eyes and how the artist had captured them. I wanted to do the same so I gave them the greatest detail.

Thursday, November 20, 2008


I took this in Oregon last winter around the house where I lived. There was a field of weeds and this one caught my eye. I like it because of the delicate and graceful shapes. There are a whole lot of metaphors to go along with this photo. I'll let you imagine your own.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008


I tend to be lean. I have been all my life. I never wanted it that way. I wanted to be big enough to play football and not be concerned about the jocks giving me a bad time. My bones are light. I grew up wirey and I could run. I should have gone out for track but I was too shy. Whenever all of us neighborhood boys got together to play football, the opposite team never wanted me to get the ball. No one could touch me. I was fast.

My physique has always been a concern for me. Everyone told me I'd fill out when I got in my twenties. It didn't happen. So then the family said my thirties would make the difference. Not so. Your forties is the magic age. Yes, when all humans start to be concerned about their image in the mirror. The belt size grows, the dress size notches up, the dreaded middle age buldge becomes another drain on your finances to look twenty again. I still weigh about the same as I did in college.

I wore shorts around as a kid until I reached the age of self consciousness. They became the missing part to my wardrobe. However, I decided it was ok in college and exposed my legs only once in a while and not without uneasyness. Shorts have gone missing again and I'd never wear them in public. I don't like people asking me where the rest of the chicken suit is.

I had a cute girlfriend I dated for a while back then. One warm sunny summer day, I suggested we go swimming. It was something we had done before. She agreed. No Problem. We drove out the Columbia River Gorge and ended up at Rooster Rock State Park about an hour and half from Portland. The beaches were sandy, the water was warm and the weather nice. Not too many people. Perfect. We had a great time. I remember we came out of the water and stood facing each other. She simled at me and then took a look at those things I use to stand with. I can still hear the words she said with a somewhat serious look. "You've got skinny legs!" If she had a 45 and shot me it would have felt better. I was stunned. How could she say that about her guy? Ouch!

"Uh, yeah", was all that would come out. We walked a ways down the beach as I stewed over her comment. Unfortunately, I decided then, that I should make a verbal obsevation about her legs as being fat. Which I did. Women are a bit sensitive over negative remarks about their anatomy. I came to a better understanding of the fact on that day. This gal was pretty normal and sensitive and suddenly joined me in being in a bad mood. I wanted to go right then because the afternoon sun didn't seem as bright and cheery as it was when we arrived. She said she did not want to leave in a rather vehement tone and walked off in a huff. I ended up sitting in the car for about ten minutes until it finally hit me. She was in control of when we were to depart. It was all on her terms. I had to wait. For her! Since my level of maturity was about the same as hers, I did the only thing I could do. I left.

After about a half hour down the road, reality set in and it donned on me what I had done. I turned around and went back to look for her. She was no where to be found. Some kind soul had given her a ride not realizing the type of stubborn headed girl she was. I thought she should have waited. We made up on the phone that evening which kind of surprized me. I would have broken it off with someone who left me stranded seventy or so miles from home. She dumped me later that year though. She fell for another guy and rode off into the sunset on the back of his motorcycle. But it's all turned out ok. Even if my legs aren't as fat as they were then, I'm certain her's aren't as skinny.

The Dog

We named him Thomas Jefferson, which seemed like the patriotic thing to do. He was born on the Forth of July. Thomas Jefferson had too many syllables so we called him TJ, and it fit. He was a Sheltie Schnauser mix, his head came up to my knee and as dogs go, he was pretty sharp. He understood what you said to him. He could pick out of his half dozen or so toys the one you asked for and be right every time. We lived in a split-level and the stairs were such that you could throw the preferred toy of the day down the steps from the living room and it would end up in the basement. He would go rumbling down after it and do it over and over as long as you wanted to throw for him. He'd get winded and pant alot. You could tell him to stop and get a drink, he would, and come back for more fetching. Smart dog.

There were however, times when his bulb would become severely dim. We had a large walnut tree in the front yard and TJ liked to relax in it's shade and take in the smells and sights. I was doing something one day in the front with him behind me under the tree when I heard the neighbor's screen door open and close. I immediately noticed their cat, and so did TJ.

I have to say that TJ was not just your basic dog when it came to cats. There were dark things within him regarding felines. He had some baggage. When we brought him home from the pet store, there were already two cats in residence. Adult cats. Adult type cats that don't like to be messed with without permission. Even though you may be a small puppy with innocent motives, you will be rejected by adult cats. Such was the case with TJ. It's been said that rejection will make you either bitter or better. The dog got along with the two ugly step sisters but he was not better. So he grew up and lived in a dysfunctional household for dogs. Strange cats or neighbor cats were however there for him to vent upon. He would bark obscenities at any who came into view, especially those who put a paw on his property. It would take a bit for him to settle down after they went their way. His hair would stand up and he'd growel a while. You could tell there was quite a burnin' urn of funk inside.

When the cat appeard I heard a bark and then a growel behind me and I turned to see him take off. I think he saw this as an opportunity for him to unload all of his supressed resentment and frustration. I could tell that his throttle was at full adrenalin and his weapons were set to kill and rip to shreds. He was flying and it was a beautiful sight.

I think he reached terminal velocity at about twenty feet. That also happend to be the length of slack that was in his twenty-five foot rope, the end of which was tied to the walnut tree. I do mean terminal because when he reached rope limit, his head neck and shoulders came to an instant halt. His rear end went flying past, he flipped in the air about a foot and landed on his back with a thump. It took three days for him to get his bark back. I loved that dog. I miss him.

A Joke for God

If you want to make God laugh,
tell Him your plans.
from: "bella"

Friday, August 8, 2008


GiGi is what all the kids call her. She is my son-in-law's grandmother, in her mid eighites, four foot eleven, full of spunk, with a great wit. We we're all at a little league game but she wasn't watching the players. I caught her looking at my one and a half year old grandson playing in the grass in front of her. She was obviously distracted.


I was listening to some music on the street in downtown Portland when this gentleman came and sat down. I couldn't help but notice him. He was very well dressed and had quite an air about him. He slowly scanned the crowd and as he looked my way, I took his photo. It didn't seem to bother him at all that a camera lens was pointed straight at him. He looked right through me and continued surveying the crowd. He definitely was a dude with an attitude. I think I captured his cool.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008


I took this photo in 1970 or 71 somewhere around Portland State University. It was not a peaceful time for me. Lots of turmoil within. Many were advocating Peace and Love then and making great efforts to instill them within our hearts. It didn't work too well for me. The peace so longed for in society seemed to fade and love just turned to lust. I went on with my life and looked for satisfaction I guess where everyone else seems to.
There was a fellow named Blaise Pascal who lived in the 1600's; a french philosopher and mathematition. I've never read any of his writings. Perhaps I should. I only remember the name from algebra and because of a particular quote attributed to him. He is supposed to have said that all men are born with a God shaped hole in them. He didn't say it in those words. It was much more lengthy and verbose. Here is my parahprase: Man was once truly happy but all traces of that are gone. He tries to fill himself up with things, status and relationships but to no avail. We have an infinitely insatiable abyss within. Only the infinite one, God, can fill it.
It took me a long time to figure that out. I realized that going after things, status and relationship is not necessarily wrong but it doesn't ever satisfy. There is never enough and I've had pretty much everything I ever wanted. I even tried God as a filler but I was only pretending and really wasn't content. It's been only in the last few years that I've allowed Him full access. I finally let God into the endlessness of my soul with great difficulty. There were places within me I didn't want touched. It took time to trust and allow Him in but now I know what true Peace and Love are. I understand that my fulfillment in life is through intimicy with God and allowing Him to be my Lover. By that I mean Lover in every sense of the word. So, for you who have visited here, may you know Love. May Love know you. May you also find the Prince of Peace, Jesus

Thursday, July 31, 2008


Remember, you're only young once,
But you can always be immature.
Dave Barry

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Little Sister

The little girl is the reason for this picture. I saw her standing by her brother and she looked like a typical four year old with a red juice stain around her mouth and hair that hadn't seen a comb all day. I approached her brother and asked if I could take her photo. He agreed but wanted to be included. It took a while for her to smile but I finally got one shot.

Someone's Mama

My wife and I lived in an apartment complex before we bought our house here in Arid-zona. I got to know a family of gypsies there who were from some place in the Baltic region. The woman of the house approached me to draw a picture of her mother and gave me the only snapshot she had. The photo showed this woman with very dark circles around her eyes and a breathing cannula under her nose. She was obviously distressesed. I gave her a little better appearance. The family said she passed away shortly after the picture was taken.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Old Gang Guy

I passed by him as he sat by the side of a fountain with his elbows on his knees smoking a cigarette. What caught my eye was the contrast between his silver white hair and the leather jacket. He looked like he may have been part of a motorcycle group but I saw no bike. He also appeared to me as though he'd been down alot of long hard roads.


Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket - safe, dark, motionless, airless - it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.

To love is to be vunlerable.

C.S. Lewis

Mysterious Heart

Obviously a rose but it's very symbolic to me of how people appear to each other. Not as a rose, but as multi-layered individuals. We all are complex, and are products of our life experiences, especially our early pasts. We present ourselves to each other with our layers of personality, protecting our hearts from rejection. Some not open at all. You can barely see the inside of this rose. It reminds me of someone I once knew long ago but really didn't.

Saturday, July 12, 2008


I'm not sure why, but I like this drawing. Perhaps it's because it's kind of free and informal. This was from a class and the model had ridden her bike. She was tired and her hair was a mess. She was staring out the window for this pose.

Friday, July 11, 2008


Sometimes it takes a storm
To really see the light.
The scent of rain,
The weight of clouds
Pulling down the sky.
Sometimes it takes a storm
To know how you feel.
To understand indigo,
The varnished sun
Lighting up the fields.
It takes the rain
between the lines
To know what sorrow
From "Storm"
By Fernando Ortega, Elaine Rubenstein, John Andrew Schreiner

The Man In The Hat

This old fellow played his accordian on the sidewalk at the Saturday Market in Portland, Oregon. He had a quiet spirit and was very soft spoken. You could barely hear him play. I talked with him one day and I believe he said he was from the Philippines. I liked the way he looked with the tattered top hat. I asked if I could take his picture and he obliged.

Stood Up

This well dressed woman was standing next to the street with her arms folded and looked to be waiting for someone.
This isn't the most flattering image but I wanted to capture her expression. It's true and doesn't have the stiffness of a formal pose. She was obviously irritated. I assume because of having to wait. Or, maybe because I took her picture.

Sunday, July 6, 2008


This is one of the first things I did when I began drawing again. It's of my son. He went through a lot of stormy seas growing up. School was difficult and life sometimes gets him down. But he's got a gentle soul and would give you all he had if he thought you needed it. He's also become a devoted husband and great father. I'm rather proud of him.