Symbols of personal freedom

The Great American Gun Show

The great American tradition: Mom, apple pie and baseball. In some parts of the United States (probably most parts), add to that gun shows. Usually not much is heard about them unless it is a real or imagined negative commentary coming from anti-gun activists. In reality, gun shows are happening all around you several times a year, and they draw people of all ages and all occupations and all religions and both (all ??) sexes.

For instance, I drove a few hundred miles to attend this show. I encountered six other people who I know: A university student, a diesel engine mechanic, a land surveyor, a real estate agent, a bank president and a medical doctor, each of whom had driven at least a hundred miles individually to attend this event.

This particular show was sponsored by the Dakota Territory Gun Collectors Association. The group puts on about fifteen shows a year at various locations in North and South Dakota. While the primary ingredient for this particular show was collector and antique firearms (the value of many ranging into the thousands of dollars), guns are not the only objects bought, sold and traded at the association's events.

Firearms-related accessories are the secondary items present, of course, but as shown in the center of the middle photograph is an original Oscar Howe painting. Oscar was a Yanktonai Sioux artist whose work is known and recognized worldwide. Many would argue he is the individual who brought contemporary Indian art to the attention of modern America.

His style was unique and is now much imitated. He took traditional Sioux painting and injected it with Cubism, which turns his paintings into mystical, dreamlike and tremendously beautiful works of art. In addition to being a producer of art, Oscar was a teacher of art, first at the high school level and later as a professor at the University of South Dakota -- a small school, which has had some giants among its faculty members.

A portion of another of his paintings is barely visible on the far right end of the same table. Someday, I might do a post on Oscar; in the meanwhile, those who appreciate art, especially work which reflects the American Indian culture, might care to check him out on their own. Here is a start:

http://www.oscarhowe.org/resources/Collection_Paintings_Info.pdf

The firearms in front of the center painting in the middle photograph, incidentally, are cased sets of matching, antique, dueling pistols -- also mystical and beautiful, but potentially deadly. As the old saying goes, "God made man, but Samuel Colt made them equal." Although, I suppose a few men with names such as Winchester, Henry, Smith, Wesson and Remington might argue the finer points of who exactly deserves the credit.

Personal note

I am roaming about, here and there, but have made no extended treks to date. That is coming in the not too distant future. I also have been tending to business, which is to say, pack up a house full of "things" and prepare otherwise, as well as to pay social calls. To a couple of people who sent emails during the past week or so, I promise I will catch up and respond.

For heavy-duty rockers only

The song I have posted this time is not a love song or a ballad. It is hard rock, metal rock, from a motion picture called "Point Break," which is a hard film, a metal film. There is no particular reason for posting the song other than it goes with my mood = follow the sun (and the stars).

The band is known as Ratt, and the guitar men are excellent. Too bad the vocalist is more of a raspy-voiced screamer than a singer. The music is dandy, and the lyrics are sort of arrogant. There are at least two versions of the lyrics, and I have mixed them both into one. The song is, "Nobody Rides For Free."

Nobody Rides For Free

In my dreams see I'm on tv
Get back exactly who I wanna be
If she could really see herself in my eyes
This wouldn't be such a big surprise

I'm sick and tired of it getting in my way
I'm sick and tired of everything I seem I know

Nobody rides for free
Nobody rides for free

Don't stop to think cause I know where I stand
I'm on my way, no, you're not gonna change my plan
If you can break away and see what I say
You'll understand what I'm trying to be
If you can break away and see what I say
You'll understand what's burning inside of me

Nobody rides for free
Nobody rides for free

I'm sick and tired of talking bout little things
I'm sick and tired of everyone in my way
I'm sick and tired of talking to my little dates
I'm sick and tired of everyone in my way

Nobody rides for free
Nobody rides for free
Nobody rides
Noooobooody...nobody rides for free
Noooobooody...nobody rides for free
Noooobooody...nobody rides for free
Noooobooody

You've gotta pay to play
So don't you stand in my way
Now the world's at stake
The card was drawn
Cause nobody, nobody rides for free

Nobody rides for free
Nobody rides for free

Now the water was deep
The current was strong
You thought he could swim but I guess you were wrong
You sink to the depths of your misery
Baby, the past will set you free

Nobody rides for free
Nobody rides for free
Nobody rides
Noooobooody...nobody rides for free
Noooobooody...nobody rides for free
Noooobooody...nobody rides for free
Noooobooody

You've gotta pay to play
So don't you stand in my way
Now the world’s at stake
The card was drawn
Cause nobody, nobody rides for free

Nobody rides for free
Nobody rides for free...

Ecclesiastes & Bierce had it right

Thinking in terms of timeless and traditional today, here is another painting by one of my all-time favorite young ladies, Frances Anne Hopkins. This one is quite unlike the paintings of voyageurs and canoes and Lake Superior that I previously posted. This painting is titled, "Plains Indian Left to Die." I would love to know the story behind this piece. This one also is different in the sense that unless Frances thinks of herself as being among the riders galloping away, she is not to be seen.

The more things change, the more ....

If there is a god, surely he (or she) knows that I have tried to be everything in life that time has allowed me to be, short of being totally irresponsible. If there is not a god, well, then, anyone else who passes this way will know it.

Some people do not believe the varied types of work I have tried or how often I have jumped from one field or location to another just for the pleasure of new experiences, new places and new faces. When I was age thirty, I bragged that I had already done everything in life there was to do in one form or variation. This was not quite true, of course, but close. Permission is granted to use your imagination to fill in some of the blanks.

Just a taste: Before I reached age thirty, I had a master's degree, been married and divorced, become a father, been in the Marine Corps, been a high school teacher, and had newspaper reporting and editing experience under my belt. I had been on wilderness canoe trips that stretched into weeks, "visited" a few foreign lands, dived to below 100 feet with scuba gear and jumped from airplanes. I was about to give up hunting because it had become too easy.

What follows now is part of a comment I wrote a few days ago. I am not certain how many people come around and read comments, but I decided I wanted to print this as a post, as well, to explain my more-or-less provincial view of art. I think my view has been formed mostly as a result of my lifestyle.

My view of many things in the community of art is particularly narrow. This is especially true in visual arts. To a lesser degree in music and in written words, but in those things, too.

This, then, makes me very opinionated, not so much in labeling things as good or bad, but in terms of like or dislike. I generally leave the decision as to whether art is good or bad to the marketplace, but I am not shy about saying what I like or dislike and the reason for that judgment.

In most instances, my preferences in writing tend toward subtlety, finesse and probably the least dramatic language available. My admiration goes toward writers who have the ability to paint pictures with words, and who use words which imply, suggest or insinuate rather than burst, explode or excite. Let the writer propose; allow the reader to interpret.

Whether one likes or dislikes a painting or a song or a book, it is only beneficial to know when reasons are given. In my case, almost anything "traditional" is going to win out over anything exploratory or experimental.

As for possibly liking something someday that is disliked now, I have found that to be happening to me in the sense of the work of some painters. Again, who knows?

In still another comment I made a few days ago, I said this:

I tend to put more credence in the visible (historical fact/archaeological rubble) than in the invisible (psychological theory/mythological memories). I tend to see civilization as William Golding saw it in his "Lord of the Flies" or George Stewart in his "Earth Abides."

Those two sentences reflect the same attitude, the same belief system.

Experience and environment, I think, are the primary elements in molding and forming the individual. My experiences here, upon this sea of blogs, are part of my overall portrait. So far, whether a student, a Marine, a reporter or a participant in blog conversations, life continues to fall under the category of, "the more things change, the more they stay the same."

Ecclesiastes had it right: "The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun."

But, unfortunately, my old friend Ambrose Bierce also had it right: "There is nothing new under the sun, but there are lots of old things we don't know."

Revised last sentences: For me, solutions and answers are to be found in searching the ruins of the known and the wisdom of the past, from reading writers who teach rather than writers who shock, from viewing paintings of beauty instead of splashes of paint, from seeking lyrics of logic while ignoring clever allusions. Many of us hit the ground running, and already had "been there, done that," while others idled away their time and, by that means, some of us have come to the conclusion that the past is the future.

Music Note: Listening to Ratt ....
Specifically, "Point Break"
Some lines from, "Nobody Rides for Free"

In my dreams see I'm on tv
Get back exactly who I wanna be
I'm sick and tired of it getting in my way
I'm sick and tired of everything I seem I know
Nobody rides for free
Nobody rides for free

Don't stop to think cause I know where I stand
I'm on my way no you’re not gonna change my plan
If you can break away and see what I say
You'll understand what I'm trying to be
I'm sick and tired of everyone in my way
Nobody rides for free
Nobody rides for free

You've gotta pay to play
So don't you stand in my way
Cause nobody, nobody rides for free
Now the world’s at stake
The card was drawn
You thought he could swim but I guess you were wrong
You sink to the depths of your misery
Baby the past will set you free
Nobody rides for free
Nobody rides for free