THE ROAD, I LONG……

THE ROAD, I LONG……

Few envisioned the lifestyle would ever end?

Decades allowed us to travel this nation with our posses of artists, artisans and craftsmen.

We displayed little thought of its impermanence.

We met up in Dallas, Duluth, Fargo, Milwaukee and Bozeman, Montana, Phoenix, Tempe, Tubac and Tucson.

Thousands of miles inbetween…..

We shared flat tires, engine heat, births, deaths,….separations.

We blinked and someone would not show up at the assigned exhibition space,

We later learned that they have run off the highway on their way home from the last show. …..last show.

As I write this I strive to reach through time and space.

I reach out to all those artists, artisans and craftsman that made their living on the road.

It was an integral part of my life and I hope it will continue.

Even though the temperatures in Fargo ND reached intolerable.

Demographics plays a part in every endeavor….look at the old, fat people on Harleys?

American artisanship, artistry, and craftsmanship will hopefully survive.

I received my first Social Security Check…..so I supposedly could retire?

My friends in France and other countries retired five to ten years ago.

In my country we thump our chests and talk of our egocentrism unknowingly.

Alas, I look about and I’m at home (home, a place of comfort) and yet I’m not on the road.

The road has always taken me to places uncertain. Peruvian Police Officers

The road has always taken me to a place that offers promise.

The road has always taken me just beyond my comfort level,

It is a level that allows to to aspire and reach out to a fuller potential.

It is art, it is artisanship, it is craftsmanship, it is the measure of potential of American ingenuity.

We are rash, we are bold, we are brazen, and we are meager.

We often travel in small RV’s and end up in the south side of your city.

We mingle with the artists, artisans, craftsmen and also with the people on the south side of your city.

We hear the gun fire late at night, we smile at the pimps and prostitutes.

We continue to be advised by locales not to venture a block south….

We’ve all been a block south and we know the heartache , danger and desperation.

After having had a delightful meal, we duck the violence on the street……an a block away and continue to walk back to the safety of our simple and tiny RV.
Somehow we view ourselves as invincible.
Some of us have died on the road, but fewer have been brought down by gun fire.
We suspect we are viewed as “immune” by the local “angry boys”.
They know we are not the same as the rich tourist’s in their five hundred thousand dollar RV’s.
They see us as localista’s and artisans being pushed around much as they are.
They do not see us as their prey or their enemy.
We get free passage…..
We walk on dangerous streets with not as much fear as should be normal.
We only have seven more blocks to travel before we can find refuge in our small little RV home, inside a fenced in area that provides some sort of safe nights sleep.   The sirens throughout the night are blotted out of our minds and we sleep till morning.
It happens time and time again.

Years go by and we weave this cycle of affluent buyers vs where we find ourselves at night.
Perhaps we are nothing more than societies entertainment, and yet our efforts and creativity are meant to inspire …
The artisanship and the craftsmanship are ways that the working class can acknowledge the human spirit of creativity.
A person died last night of gun shot wounds….
We question our mission….. NOW Covid……we are now rent asunder.
We look forward to the day that we can return.
With vaccinations that will allow us to hug our fellow artists, artisans & craftspersons.
The empirical data that scientists understand…….it allowed us to leave the “dark ages” and move into the “enlightened age!!”

Pushing forth visions of that reunion is what should inspire us.
A time of rejoicing! Human invention, human creativity, simple and human conductivity.

It is my fervent hope that I can regain my community of artists, artisans and craftsperson.

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