RECENT WORK 12/28/11

RECENT WORK 12/11

SICULIANOS

DREAMIN'

RAINBOW BRIDGE

THE CAPT

PORTRAIT

SILLY IN PHILLY

DEATH

DEATH IN THE FAMILY

Deaths come in threes

In 1977 I was in Cuernavaca, Mexico.  The headline said, El Rey es muerte.  The king is dead. 

Elvis Presley.

My bother-in-laws son from a brain tumor and my wife's grandfather were the other two.

This time around it was Vaclav Havel, Kim Jong Il and Bubba Chuck, my beloved ferret.  I am a ferret person.  I love them and think they are the greatest animals ever.  I've had a series of them over the years.  A lot of them escaped off the sail boat I was living on.

The worst experience in my life was when my mother came home drunk one Christmass.  The second one occured when I accidently killed my ferret.  He was just a beautiful champagne color.  I named him, "Good Luck Chuck".

His luck ran out big time.  I had gone to the airport in Charleston, S.C. to pick up some one.  I had parked and was waiting for this person.  I had taken Chuck with me.  I had the back open to load luggage.  I went around and opened the drivers door for something.  I didn't look when I closed it.  When I did I felt it didn't close.  I looked.  I had closed it on Chuck.  Like a scissor it broke his back.

I picked him up and could instantly see it was bad.  I begged him not to go.  He vomited blood on me.  To this day I still have the twenty dollar bill with his blood on it that was in my pocket. Tuff luck Chuck.

He passed to the rainbow bridge.  I lost it all together and came totally apart in public.

It took some time to get over that but eventually I did.  When I was ready I went to the pet store for another fuzzy.  There were seven ferrets laying together.  They were all the same standard ferret color.  Next to them was an all white one.  I had had another all white one, an Albino I called Snooki.  She ran away eleven times and came back ten.

The new guy was not a true Albino.  He had black eyes and a few black hairs on his back that disappeared with age.  He was just as docile as a ferret could get.

I taught him tricks.  He would stand up and beg.  Then I got him to go in a circle before standing up and begging.

Let there be know doubt we loved each other.  He liked to follow me around.  As he got older he loved to just be held.  We rubbed noses all the time.  He really liked laying on my chest when I layed down. It was his favorite place where he was the happiest.  He'd fall asleep right away.

I'm not sure how old he was.  Maybe five or six.  I thought ferrets lived to be seven or eight.  I noticed that he wasn't as active as he use to be.  He spent a lot more time sleeping and less playing.  I thought it time I started looking for a transition ferret.  Sorta of an overlap insurance.

Then outta' the blue he seemed to get better.  On Dec 18th he seemed to be his old self, eager for his treats.  He ran around in a circle and stood up for his treat.  Later as I rubbed his belly it seemed as if his organs were hard.  I thought maybe it's just a full stomach.  I was hoping thats all it was because I didn't have money for a vet.

Lately my creative juices had just not been flowing.  I just couldn't seem to get the ball rolling.  This particular night things had changed.  I felt I was making good progress for the first time in a long time.

It might have been around ten o'clock.  I was on the computer and turned around to see him laying next to his favorite rug.  This was unusual so I decided to take a break and spend some quality time with him on my chest.  When I picked him up he was like a limp rag.  I was disturbed.  When I layed down and put him on my chest,  he had no strength and couldn't move.

He knew he was going and came out to be with me for the end.

His breathing was labored and I suspected the end was near.  I gently stroked him with all the love I could muster.  His breathing became progressively labored till it sounded like it was hurting him.  When ferrets get excited their tails fluff up.  His tail raised and fluffed up.  He raised his head and took three or four really hoarse breaths then passed to the rainbow bridge.

I layed there for awhile weeping then placed him on his favorite rug curled up in a ball like he was asleep and told him to rest easy.

I went for a walk.  Had a double rum and coke in a bar and wandered around for awhile.  I just couldn't bring myself to go back there and stayed out a couple of hours.

When I did return he looked so peaceful laying there.  I knocked myself out with some Nyquil.  In the morning I put him in a black sack.  He loved to go out in the sack.  He'd hang on the edge and watch everything.

I walked the last mile with him down to Shark River.  I stayed there awhile holding him.  Telling him I luved him.  Then I rubbed noses with him for the last time and gently slipped him into the water.

He sank below the surface for a little and single bubble rose from him.  He floated back to the surface then slowly sank below it tumbling over and over in the water.  I watched till I couldn't see him anymore.

I walked back along the surf line.

I luv'd that ferret so much.

GOAT

Recently I came across some slides of old work.  This is a pastel, probably done

 in the 70's in L.A.

GO FIGGER