This was going to be about censorship because Facebook decided to censor the painting I placed on my homepage. I have never understood these groups who make the decisions as to what a person can or cannot see, mostly because they're always contradictory or just plain stupid. For instance, FB allowed this picture:  But decided this one was too 'Sexual': Makes no sense to me. Still, it got me thinking about how we go through life censoring or own stories, our 'Real' selves because we're afraid we might alienate someone close to us or lose us a friend or family member (Which has happened to me on more than one occasion). A lot of times we work around our personal history, insinuating and not just saying because those who love you will stick by your side and those who don't, well, the decision on what to do or say isn't always easy. But these parts of our lives shouldn't be hidden because they helped make us who we are which, most of the time...

The Stone Age...More truthfully, the late 60s. Casa Grande was a small town in the middle of nowhere, only had a few shops, lots of bars, a drive in theater and the main theater downtown,  and you could probably walk the entire place in an hour and virtually everyone you saw on that hike you'd know, by reputation if not personally. Pretty much true of all small towns. Not a whole lot to do for entertainment, legal anyway. We had a library over at Peart Park, looked like a miniature fort built out of Adobe, small, only four main rooms of books and a swamp cooler that would cause the books to curl during those hot days of summer. I spent a lot of time at that place, reading almost everything it had to offer and that included a bunch of biographies and autobiographies...For most this was as close to the outside world they'd ever come and dreams were what kept most of us going back then. We knew nothing about the unrest throughout the world, this is Arizona, after all and almos...

'Life is like a painting by Monet...To understand what it is you have to view it from a distance.' Years ago a close friend took me to a Monet exhibit and as we gazed at the huge paintings that little phrase came to me like a thunderbolt. My world had been going a bit crazy back then...Health was an issue and between the treatments I was in court twice, sometimes three times a week (Another story for another time)...And I was beginning to see the life I'd lived more clearly because of the years that had swiftly gone by. Even more years have passed, children have grown up, friends and relatives have died, the hatred and anger that once drove me to continue has...Mellowed. Slightly. The world was seemingly becoming more civilized and then, well, we all know what happened during the last election and all of the atrocities which have continued on since. I actually believed this country had a future and now...Now the whole world seems to be balancing on a razor blade and...

When we're young and the future is the great unknown it's fairly easy to find purpose in your life...Most of us have parents or family of some kind to take care of the daily needs, food, shelter, all around caring, so with whatever time school doesn't take up, we're left to our own devices, our own little dream worlds we create in our minds. Back then it might have meant running down to the local library (A tiny little place about the size of a small apartment), check out some books to read or sit in front of the television and watch any of the four channels we had, go outside and play with the neighbors or, in my case, find a pencil and paper, any paper, and draw. It's really the only thing I can think of that's always been with me, this need to create, to draw and, eventually, paint. I'd seen art and I knew people were behind these lines and if one person could do this, so could another...And I worked my ass off all to try and figure out how are was ...

This year is only into its first quarter and a lot has happened, to the world and myself. Shortly after the beginning of the new year my sister and I had been taking care of our father. My dad and I had a complicated relationship throughout the years, often (Literally) leading to physical abuse. Once I very nearly beat him to a pulp while I was in college. I'd found out he'd hurt my sister and when I found out the only thing between me and him was my mother. We were never close and that does fall on him. I tried to connect but most times his replay was (Truthfully): You really are a lost cause. The last day he was alive I'd gone into the room where he'd been staying. He'd slipped into something like a coma and it was only a matter of time before he was gone. I'd seen and helped take care of others in this condition and it all ended the same way. I cleaned him up, almost a useless task because the room was ripe with the smell of death. Beth, who had pneumonia...

    Memories are strange things. In our memories people never grow up, they don't get old and we're right there with them, young(er) and with the future still ahead of us, a future that doesn't frighten because we believe ourselves to be indestructible.  When I finally became a professional artist and working for DC Comics I was fortunate enough to have met one of the nicest pros in the business, Don Newton along with his son, Tony. Don helped me keep sane during that whole time, was my friend, and I can't say enough good things about Don...He influenced my future in ways I'm not going into right now. Thing is, one day a year or so later I received a call from a mutual friend that Don had died. After dealing with his being gone, I called our editor at DC and told them the news. The first thing that came out of his mouth was 'Did he finish that last story?' and the next thing out of my mouth was 'Go fuck yourself!' Not a great career mo...

When it comes to reading material, I prefer non-fiction over fiction. Usually. As we've moved into the 21st century with all of the access we have to so sources once impossible to find, along with the 'Freedom Of Information Act', anyone with the time and patience to go looking for the 'Truth' just might find it...And it probably isn't anywhere near to what they taught us in school. History is almost always written by the 'Victors' and very seldom do we ever get to hear the other side of anything. Why this person did that, or what motivated a leader to declare war or where the whole mess started in the first place? All of these questions usually boil down to greed for the most part and history is filled with bold stories about our ancestors fighting the good fight to win the country we live in today...Only history isn't simple. It's not always about right or wrong and 'Truth', that's like a used slinky, twisted and impossible to f...