The old pickups dashboard

You can tell alot of things looking at an old trucks dash

It's like a heirloom of time gone by.... being preserved an encased as if sitting in a museum

It's cold outside and I can see it still inside as the heater is broke

my dad tried to fix it once but it only ended up smelling like stale oil so here I sit

Months before a male peacock shed It's feather and it was too pretty to leave on the ground so I threw it up on the dash of my dads old truck

I can use it in a project that I started about a year ago.

The feathers colors reverberate in the winter sun

I am sure these are the colors as I will see in Heaven as not many are real tranquil and iridescent as these are 

my dad must have known this as he started with 2 peacocks and currently there are 20 on the farm

yet beside the feather are dull, fake flowers from a baby shower

and that beautiful baby is a month old

the suns u.v light rays have turned It's bright colors into a soft hue with an ash undertone

The world clock is yelling " she's already here lady.... why are you keeping me?" 

to look back although that is rather difficult as i broke my dads rear view mirror applying make up a while back

I didn't know the glue had an expiration date but that old Ford had seen it's better days

where is the glue I bought to put it back up?

I should probably fix the crack in the window first

How it broke my dad will have to tell you as I wasn't around

maybe it's like us all... it feels like it has lost its function and just gave out

The memory of my dad is clear as day though

his memory runs rampid in my mind and my eyes still cry at the time I lost

the graphite rock hits my eye too and I am mesmerized that something so simple is forgotten by so many

but I have this old truck and my dads dashboard to look at whenever I want to look back

Grandma Teddy

 

"Get in the car!" yelled my father as he would walk around the old Crysler and get into the passenger's seat.  He expected my mother to drive and liked to reminisce about the farms along the way to Grandma Teddy's house.  She only lived about 4 miles away, but the drive was through farmlands and dad liked to talk and point out people that lived in each house that lined the way through the pueblo.  "There is where my friend Joe inherited the land from his father and grandfather.  He only has 2 horses now but back in the day he had 6 or 8 horses.  They were beautiful bay horses that would run alongside the road as the cars drove by."  I would look out the window in the back seat and look at the barren field and nod my head in agreement to his story.  I would hear the same story each Sunday as we drove to Uncle Johnny's house, and I would act like it was the first time I had heard it.  My brother had automatically ignored my dad's stories and had drifted off into the world of Def Leopard as his music pulsed loudly in his earphones.  "Now that is Uncle Alfred's house.  He had me help him section off the back field so he could try raising cattle.  I told him that to have a couple of cows wouldn't be worth the money of the hay and tractor he would need to use each day.  He ended up turning the small 5-acre field into an alfalfa field.  He would borrow the tractor from my dad and all the equipment from a neighbor.  He would be out walking the field and would get my dad to come over and look at the dry land.  He would swear he irrigated the field a week before, but my dad used to ask the elders, and they would just shake their head and talk about the government cutbacks and how the irrigation ditches all dried up.  Instead of cursing in front of me my dad would say something in Indian and hit the wheel of the car.'  As we turned up dirt road in front of the post office he would say "OH hay did I tell you about your aunt Erma?  She lived up that road in an old single trailer.  Do you remember that?"  I would shake my head as I was an infant in those days.  "She used to give you cookies from the pueblo women, and you would have to guess what was inside.  She used to add honey to the vegetables and not tell you what they would be."  He gave the thought a little laugh and look up out the window as we pulled into Uncle Johnny's driveway.  He would give me the look to get my brother out of his rock and roll world to listen to the rules once again.  " Remember to sit quietly on the floor and watch Mutual of Omaha's show and don't make any comments that will upset anyone.  We will be playing cards but can hear your eyes rolling without even looking up from the cards in his hands.  OH, and make sure to give Grandma Teddy a hug and a kiss. I know she doesn't speak English, but she knows when you kids are here, don't jump on her walker because as you know it's a table as well and she might have coffee on it.  Don't forget!" and we would walk in the house as we did each and every Sunday for the first 10 years, we lived on the pueblo.... or until she died.  I can't remember which came first.

Daily drawing mix with story: The Musicians

Colorful Music

Eyes closed

Mind set 

Instruments ready

Exhale for the rhythms to form within

Fingers touch the keys with 

a sweet caress

The air flows a mental path

that only it can take

Release from the metal horn

Softly and slowly in greens and blues to start the melody 

picking up the pace 

The breath rounds the lower corner and the tone mixes with a somber purple as it carefully extend upward

A new color and instrument enter with complimentary colors which give the song more energy and sharper notes that only a violin can create

The blue green tries to push onward and upward but is pushed back by the warming yellow and orange colors

Then the blend of colors and music end in a tertiary dance and it glistens our ears in a special harmony

Kim Artman 

12/24

The Artman Diaries

 Chapter 1: Rex

Artman Diaries Chapter 1: Rex

It was a putrid color.  A mixture of swamp green and yellow puss oozing from his eye.  I had seen this color before in horror movies like The Exorcist, The Swamp Thing or The Walking Dead but I just didn’t expect to see it this morning up close and personal.  I couldn’t see his eyeball but the substance that came from the corner of his eye was definitely visible.

Our love affair started just a mere year prior before when I got a call from a friend of mine that owned a local horse rescue farm.  “Hey, do you want to buy a horse that is going to the kill pen?  The guy that’s driving him said he would release him for only $800 which is the cost they would give him at the slaughterhouse.”  How did everyone know I have a deep moral obligation to save as many horses from the kill pen as possible.  Who saw when I was passing lonely, thin, neglected horses that I murmured “Its okay” to them as a tear fell down my cheek.  “Don’t you have any room at your place?” I replied to her.  She came back with a sorrowful “no” and I immediately replied, “Let me talk to Ray and I will get back with you.”

I hung up the phone and knew that I could persuade him to give him the right opportunity to present itself.  Ray was in the bathroom as he is six to eight times a day.  He has suffered from IBS, irritable bowl syndrome, for the last 20 years but has never done anything to fix it.  I came in casually and held my breath.  I don’t usually visit him in the bathroom as the air is as polluted as a New York subway, but I felt like I had a captured audience, so I took my chance.  “Hi honey, how are you?” and before he could answer I pounced like a puma in the desert landscape.  “Shelley just called and told me about another rescue she may get today.” He turned to look up at me but only with his eyes.  His head remained forward as if still looking at the phone.  “You have got to be kidding me.  You’re thinking about another rescue?  Don’t we have enough to do with the other 3 rescues out there?  Not to mention the cost! What did you tell her?”  I whipped out my phone and showed him a picture of the old horse galloping in a pen.  He had a saddle on so we couldn’t see the extent of his neglect.  I could see it in Rays eyes and his demeanor as he was coming up with more reasons why another 1200lb pet would be a bad idea.  I interrupted his chain of thought and said “We can ride together!  This is our chance to have 2 horses and gallop away in the sunset like the old Western movies!”  [he watched western movies and television shows on a regular basis] and with that he replied “Let me get done with the paperwork and you get the horse trailer ready.  Why do I let you talk me into these things?”  In which my response was “I love you so much honey!” and I ran toward the door grabbing the keys to the old Ford my dad passed down to me along with the farmland where the horses were to stay.

We arrived within 30 minutes, and I was searching for the old guy.  She had said he was malnourished but not to the point of being a skeleton.  My husband and I both gasped “wow” at the same time.  Here was this very tall horse with skin covering his bones.  If you would look at him from the back end, he looked like one of those Holstein cows.  I never knew a horse could be so thin.  His head hung low, and his eyes were big.  It was like he knew he had just made it free but had no energy left to fight with.  I went up to him and looked at him squarely in his big, brown eyes and said “It’s okay buddy.  We are going to take you home”. And that is just what we did.

He didn’t say much on his arrival to anything as the new scenery astounded him tremendously.  We had large trees in the yard that hung over the grass.  He was taking it all in when all of a sudden he heard “auuukkkkk” followed by several other squawks of help from the back yard, to on the hay shed, to in the back of the truck.  It sounded much like an air raid, and he had no idea what was making such a ruckus and startled quite a bit upon exiting the trailer.  “What is wrong with him?” Ray asked with a louder tone than usual.  “It’s just the peacocks, I don’t ever think he has seen one before.”

I assured the old guy that the peacocks were more scared of him than he is of them.  He didn’t believe me and kept cocking his head up high.  I led him through the gate to where Reba and Mack were.  Reba is our miniature and she is a mare.  She is the boss and even our young 2-year-old gelding knows this.  The old guy comes in and smells her and her ears, the whole 2 inches of them, become flattened on her head.  He knew the pecking order instantly and bolted away.

“What should we call him?” I asked Ray quizzically.  “Well, we named Mack after Reba for MacIntire. How about we see what her husband or boyfriends name is?” and I whipped out my phone to type the country singers name in the search engine.  “It says here her boyfriends name is Rex.  That sounds good to me.” And so, from then on he was called Rex.

At home with nature

How I wish you were here

in the frigid water flowing against my sore and tired feet

how I wish you were here

to blow soft kisses through my hair when the weather is hot and unbearable

how I wish you were here to sing me a song as you fly through the pale blue sky

how I wish you were here

with your sweet smelling perfume that tickles my nostrils 

how I wish you were here

to see Gods painting in the sunset

as he swirls the pastel colors with his fingertips

Maybe it's not so much that I wish you were here 

but I wish I was there

being one with nature

yes, I wish I was there 

Daily drawing mix and story: The day and life of a cowgirl

"I hear ya. I hear ya" Michaela said as she turned over in her bed.  She used her fluffy pillow as a barrier against the noisy animals outside to no avail.  "Why oh why did I want to live in the country again?"  Michaela said as she let out a big sigh. She grew up on her parents farm and moved away right out of high school with a boy she hardly talked to these days.  She came back to the Montana ranch shortly after her parents passed and remembered how wonderful it was to grow up with many animals to play with during the day.  She thought it was living in solitude with the babbling brook, birds singing a morning song, and wind rustling through the trees.  Her memory failed to include her current morning symphony of sounds like her colt who thinks his hunger should override her sleeping in.  The beautiful sound of the barn swallows were non existent and is replaced by a big black crow whose sound is a cross between a toddler throwing a temper tantrum and car brakes going out.  Wearily Michela crawls out of bed and stretches in her morning tree pose.  The sun is already up and pierces her eyes like small pokes of polluted air.  She grabs her tattered hat and muddy boots that lay at the end of the bed from the night before.  MewMew kitty knows this is a sign that she too needs to get up and protect Michela on her small walk to the hay barn.  Why she needs protection only MewMew knows.  She doesn't bother putting on pants as it is already 90 degrees and her nearest neighbor lives 4 miles away.  She grabs an apple with a slight bruise on it and a carrot from the dining room table.  The apple is her lead rope for the feisty colt and the carrot is for the rabbit that appears each morning on the path.  This really upsets MewMew as she too feels this is her property and the rabbit poses an imminent threat.  The cool air hits Michela's face first and thighs later.  Jasper hears the door creek and comes running around the house like a barrel racer to the home stretch.  He knows that his morning snack is first to ward off the hunger pain before filling up with crisp hay leaves.  The path is filled with many tracks of animals that come out only at night and hide during the day.  Michela sees the rabbit before MewMew and this startles her as she strikes a pose much like one in a Jackie Chan movie.  The old black crow is watching closely as he knows that the young colt is a messy eater and will most likely leave a trail of treats.  The buck up on the hill has a similar idea but not from the apple that falls from the colts mouth but that which is left over from the rabbit and his juicy carrot.  Michela knows that the animals eat first and then she can go back to the farmhouse and fix her morning coffee.

Daily drawing mix and story: Meet Me at the Gym

Wind=blue, Virginia= purple, Julie =orange

"Let the sun radiate energy into your subconscious" said Wind.  "Feel the pull in your chakra and extend it out through your digits.... past the flesh and out to the particles of the room..." "Do you actually believe in this bull?" said Virginia as she sat grabbed a pair of dumb bells from the shelf.  Wind kept talking as if she didn't hear her friend "in turn inhale those charged particles back into your lungs that keep you alive."  With a big sigh as she rolled her eyes, Julie sat flat on the mat "All I smell is the smell of old testosterone oozing from the pores of over aged men who think its their role in life to pose like Michelangelo's "David" as they look into the mirror."  Virginia laughed as Wind extended her lower limbs toward the rooftop.  "Those men are works of art... makes me want to take up carving.... no sculpture is what it called isn't it?  Look at those rippling abs and strong muscles in the upper chest,  Wind.... Wind.... what is the muscles in the upper chest area called?"  Virginia said excitingly. "Haven't you ever taken an anatomy class....ZEEZ!" Julie said with a look of disgust.  "Its called the pectoralis major and if you did this headstand with me and place your arms wide, chest expanded, and inhale your lungs with positive energy....." said Wind in this whispery type of voice "you could allow your inner spirit to fill your chest cavity."  Julie exhaled so loud that it startled Wind and she fell from her headstand.  "I gave up my Saturday morning for this?  Jingles needed to get her claws trimmed! When am I going to find time to do it now?" Julie retorted.  "You can have all my Saturday mornings as long as I get a view of that large chocolate shake!" Virginia smiled big and nodded her head toward a well built black man doing chest press exercises.  He smiled big as he noticed Virginia starting to drool.  He glanced at Julie and gave her a look of total disgust.  "That's why it is just you and Jingles!" said Wind as she lifted her butt in the air, keeping her hands firmly on the ground while her head looked toward her belly, much like a cat.  "Jingles loves that he is the only man in my life.  He cuddles with me each night and purrs in my ears to tell me he loves me.  What man can say that out there?" said Julie.  "Downward dog ladies!" yelled Wind. Both girls turned to look at wind in her unusual yoga pose.  Julie stood up and puffed out her chest "did she just call us dogs?"  "No silly.... downward dog is the pose I am in currently to release the negative energy that has built up by listening to you two!"  Wind said rather loudly.  Virginia smiled as Julie stood up and headed out the door.  Apparently Jingles texted and wanted her home.  She excused herself and waved a short wave before running out the door.  "Well okay then... I don't know about cats but I know what I want to cuddle up to tonight!" said Virginia as she pulled the front of her shirt lower to show some cleavage and headed toward the well built man starting to work on crunches.  "Alone again... thank God" said Wind as she got on the floor for a cobra pose.