“Cryptic” Answers in Gods way.

 

            Every once and a while a class comes along and changes how we feel about our position in the world and the work we have done. This class has been such a conduit for me. In my interest and zest in social movements of the past has shown me in no uncertain terms the vast amount of net working and organization that it has taken to achieve major change in American thinking and culture. What I thought was an objective view of a social injustice becomes more and more a subjective view of what I have seen through my life.  The movement or concept Peace-Up which speaks and calls for a change or end to the Drug War which I created as a social movement, now evermore becomes a personal story of what I have seen and experienced. I now see with a much clearer vision the truth of my work and personal struggle.

            My father and I often bounce ideas that revolve around writing and personal experience ever returning to one or the other of us stating that I should write more personal stories. The other night I found myself extremely introspective, taking account of my blessings and short comings; in doing so brought myself to the idea of Peace-UP Dragon. You see the human in me was shying away from a pain, a pain that became evident in my actions when I tore down my wall of work in my home. Upon this wall was my work, the concept peace-UP with Dragon in the center. I uncovered the remnants of this wall and found my self reading Dragon with a fever and making lots of notes in the margins. These notes carried one overwhelming theme that I should take a more personal voice in my work. I began thinking of all the stories I tell people and even the others that are my private little miracles that I could put down on paper. It seems like a good idea.

            I look for cryptic answers. Well let’s see what does that mean. I pray for signs and then look for the answer. Everybody has herd of that. I get funny little answers or lessons. Ill let you be the judge, for there is one such message on the desk next to me.  It reads “.Vision there & about sweat”.  Now here comes the context.

            Enter Tuesday as the last day in a long row of days creating the physical part of the memorial I created to honor Citizens of this town who passed due to alcohol, drugs, homelessness, or other circumstances. The four signs a 8’x4’ by 1inch slab of malimar (Press wood) with a 4” x4” 8 feet long posted on each end suggested a logistical problem that I had not as of yet resolved. We have our question. Oh yeah. Here we are Tuesday. I put on orange socks (my stolen jail socks don’t tell.) with all black dress clothes and a red tie. Lets not forget the ORANGE hat that made may socks look faded. My goal for the day find a way for the signs to go from I & 19^th in Spinfield (that’s a typo, honest well believe me if you want) to Washington and Jefferson park. I begin by tiding up and looking for paperwork. On my fridge I have a plethora of those little magnetic words enough so I sweep them up often and find them all over the house. I place them on the fridge or in containers that hold nick-nacks. Enter the seeds of our message. One such seed the word “there” is how our message started. I one forever being aware and looking for my “message” randomly began pulling words from this small group forming most of the above mentioned message. I was versed in this part of the game; I pulled one more, “about” that settled it. Message received. I tried a shot gun approach from enlisting neighbors, the phone and a funny little sign stating “25 $ I hour full sized truck call Thor”. I could go of on a tangent about backgroundmusic in my head and DMX yet I relent. The sign pulled 4 phone calls.

Craig showed up Thursday afternoon in a Chevy S10 and was sure we could pull it off. I’m a pretty big guy and I have moved a lot of stuff including the signs from last year in a F250 ¾ ton. I wasn’t as sure as him. We teepee the signs legs up in the bed, they stayed. It was his idea. I was still skeptical until we drove away. It worked, well. The whole job digging wholes and righting the signs took about two hours; 10-15 minuets a hole. I was sore and my neck had a crick. Holes with a post-hole-digger is work.  

Thor.