Poetry

Last night, I read at the annual Albany Wordfest Open Mic. Read a piece from "Antietam," called "Don Quixote."

And then I read "Song of Bourbon." It is about the initimate joy of sharing bourbon with a lady friend.

I love a good woman who can enjoy her bourbon.

American Quixotic - Dulcinea...in Progress

This one is special, and I am taking my time with her. As a part of my American Quixotic series, I am doing a "Dulcinea" piece. She is not the whore of the original novel in this piece, just a gal looking to escape.

The hair will be red and I am doing a little research into the styles of hair for the 1950s. It is also likely she will be wearing glasses as she looks at the map. The drink: bourbon, of course.

The boots are a bit of a tribute to a special pal of mine who has a great sense of humor and sense of self.

The body is done without the aid of a model.

Truckin'

Update: Had a nice meeting with a guy, an older fellow, gruff, manly, hat wearing...very focused on my history and needs. He recommended I shoot for a CDL-B (dump trucks, delivery style trucks, buses) and could probably get me work for $400-600/week starters at that level. Then later, after my daughter gets older, go for the A license. Decisions, decisions.

At least with the local gigs, I can still teach and I can probably consult and make up the difference.



In five minutes, I am off to talk to a recruiter and director of a local CDL school to see if there is any type of fit for me in the trucking industry. Are my eyes good enough, can I learn to do this, is there flexibility to train me and then employ me locally, so I can do regional runs? All good questions.

This is my first attempt to talk to someone about the business and whether I have any hope of getting involved, whether it is worth my time and effort, and whether it can be managed around my family needs.

It would be ideal to be a triple threat: to learn to drive, to consult, and to paint.

The Right Stuff

One of the greatest beginnings ever to one of my most favorite movies.

"They were called test pilots...and no one knew their names."