Ashes

I went to Ash Wednesday services today. For those uninitiated, this is the day Catholics get dirt on their foreheads. It's been oh... twenty years since I last went to a service. I can't really say what actually had me going back after all this time- I guess it's a combination of things, events of the past year catching up, the comfort of ritual, and the sense of community, amongst others. The need to belong, in short. Those who've known me for a long time are no doubt scratching their heads at this, since I've hardly kept quiet my general disdain for religion. But, what can I say? Time has a way of changing you. Don't get me wrong- there's still plenty of things I don't like about religion (all religion, not just one), but I'm starting to see some of the, dare I say it, positive aspects of it. One of the things I've really noticed about church-going recently (since I've come back home, in fact) is my perspective on what's done and said in mass (en masse, also, as it were). Having been gone so long, I have a different point of view on it- I find myself listening more closely to the words, particularly during the sermon, and not just going through the motions (ironic, since I find some comfort in ritual and rote). This was the first time at the 'local' church. Not a bad place- lots of color. One thing going against it though- the Crucifix hanging above the altar? The nails are through the statue's palms, rather than the historically- and physically-accurate wrists. On the other, they rang a little bell during the part of mass when the priest blesses the Host- something the old church stopped years ago. An interesting hour.

So, I went to church, where they stuck dirt on my head, then came home and had fish for dinner. Mom would be so proud.

'Normal' posts will presumably resume on Friday. Or Monday.

From the Crypt, 4: The Closest I Got to High-School Sports

...and by "Monday", I meant "Tuesday". Sorry, folks.

Today's post is another piece of work (heh) done for Art class. This time, as part of our Senior year, we were all painting murals around the school. I'd already painted up one, based around the Gulf War (who knew I'd have to sneak back in 12 years later and paint a 'I' by it...)- unfortunately I don't have any of the layouts for that, though I remember it pretty well. This one was to go in the hallway leading to the gym, and represented, quite shockingly, our basketball teams. Funnily enough, I had no idea who played on our team (I assumed they were mostly the tall kids walking around), so I went with some nicely generic players (thank you Sports Illustrated). I put this together, sketched it on the wall, and got about exactly as far as this drawing, in terms of painting. I was never known for my ability to beat (or even meet) deadlines. Lucky for me, Mrs. Geier understood, and so I never got the big ol' 'F' I deserved on the project.
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Proof that my niece Emily and I are too much alike:

ME: "No one likes a smart-ass... unless it's me."

EMILY: "No, they don't like you, either."
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Another post down. Meet back here... Wednesday? Sure, sounds good. Or maybe Thursday. But soon.

Music: "Once" - Pearl Jam

From the Crypt, 3: Sensitive Heavy Metal Artist

One of the first times I drew something not-comic-booky; and also one of the first times I drew something realistic for my own enjoyment, rather than an art class.

I admit it, back in the day I was a huge Queensryche fan. Of course it was because of 'Silent Lucidity'- you know, one of those counter-programming songs metal bands used to do back in the day to get lots of radio airplay, and make people think that was their typical sound (Extreme, I'm looking in your direction). Still, Empire was a great album of its day. In keeping with the 'seriousness' of the album, they had appropriately serious pictures in the liner notes. This one, of lead singer Geoff Tate, was particularly dynamic, and so I naturally wanted to steal the picture and draw it. I really enjoyed how it came out- 'stretching my wings', so to speak. But, I always remember this picture for my brother looking at it and complimenting me on it, then saying, 'You should've made all the lines going in the same direction.' Very true- it would've looked much better if I had. One of many head-smacking, 'duh' moments, in my artistic career.

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My profuse apologies for the delay in posting. No, it has nothing to do with me secretly passing off current work as old work; instead, I blame the computer. Whether it's mortally wounded, or simply tempermental, it's been particularly difficult getting Photoshop and IE working. Today is a good day for it, so here you go. Come back Monday and we'll see if it continues to work.

Have a great weekend. I'll be working.

Music: "Empire" - Queensryche

From the Crypt, 2

Second in a series, collect them all.

Well, looking back at this... um, well, it was the 90's. Crazy stuff like cyborgs and huge bladed weapons was all the rage back then. And, judging by looking at this pic, small feet were also apparently in. And body modifications (poor guy lost his whole right forearm on a whim!)

No real idea where this came from, other than like I said, it was the 90's. I don't recall any real backstory to him, but back then, I didn't often have need for it- as long as I had an idea of something to draw, I was pretty happy.

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Sorry for the delay of game on getting this posted; believe me, there's no shortage of old crappy 90's-style drawings to post, but I've had a real problem with the computer of late. Hopefully it's back running for the time being, and I can continue to regale you with trips to the crypt.

Cheers!

Music: "Holding Out For A Hero" - Bonnie Tyler (80's, I know, but appropriately bad)

From the Crypt, 1

It's possibly a good thing that I rarely throw stuff out.

Not long ago, while searching through boxes of books at my mom's place (yeah, sorry those of you who helped me move- I have more books at her place, too.), I unearthed a few sketchbooks of mine. Some of them go back to the mid-80's (but I don't think I'll be posting those- strangely enough, they seem to have disappeared...), but I thought you might be interested in some of the work I did when I first really started drawing in earnest, back in the early 90's. I have something like 6 or 7 sketchbooks, from February 10, 1992, up through the months leading up to the start of the blog... Wow, some of these things are 17 years old. As we go through these pictures, I'll probably talk a bit about what was going on at the time of drawing them, point out some details, or just make observations about my drawing style back then. If all else fails, I'll settle for smart-ass remarks.

This was the first thing I found in the first sketchbook, probably done around late February, 1992, and the third thing drawn in that book (if you think I'm not posting everything to avoid embarrassment, you'd be right- but don't worry, there's plenty of embarrassment that will make it's way to this site). This desperately unfinished sketch was done for Art III class- Mrs. Geier's class, and my favorite high school class- unsurprisingly. She asked us to design banners for some project or other to be displayed in downtown (dahntahn) Pittsburgh- maybe the Arts Festival? They would be made out of fabric, and I think they were to be 6 or 8 feet in height... or not, I'm just guessing. Anyway, my idea had been to make an angel and a demon as gargoyle statues on top of some appropriately Gothic building. As you can see, it didn't make it very far. As usual, my grasp exceeded my reach, and it didn't get any farther than this. It wasn't a horrible idea, but it wouldn't have worked for a number of reasons, the least of which being a banner done entirely in shades of gray is hardly visually appealing. As I recall, one student actually did make a banner- Lisa Vitalbo was her name, and she made a really wonderful face done in many different colors. But that's all I can remember. So, a little walk down memory lane here, and the recurring theme of my life- unfinished work.

(bonus to you observant folks- note the little drawing in the lower right corner- kudos to you if you know who/what that's supposed to be)

That's it for now, but I'll try to post again Wednesday, with more retro graphics. I'll be curious to see what your thoughts are on some of the stuff I'll be posting.

Cheers!

Music: "Angels and Devils" - Toby Lightman

Sightings and Homecomings

First:

Unintentional Hilarity, or Brilliant Cross-Promotion- You Decide:

Second, and perhaps somewhat more relevant, I've finally become an honest citizen again:

It's good to be home.

Have a great weekend everyone- I'll be back sometime next week, hopefully with some sketches or some more photos.

Music: "Home Sweet Home" - Motley Crue (yeah, I said it, Motley Crue)

Just Passing Through...

Sorry folks- I really had planned on posting something here tonight for your viewing enjoyment on the morrow, but as life would have it, tonight's not to be that night.

It's been really difficult these past few weeks/months coming up with material to post (I haven't looked back to see just what I've posted, to be honest; perhaps that's for the best). I do know it's been a hell of a lot more writing than drawing. I'm not sure what makes it easier to type- well, that's not true. It's easier to type than draw because it's so much easier to type out what's in my head than try to draw what's up there. So often something gets lost on the path from my imagination to the paper- I think it has something to do with the distortion of the images in my mind. I tried explaining this to my niece when she was working on one of her art projects. To me, it's a lot like looking at something partially submerged in water, like a straw or post- it seems to bend in the water, making it distorted. But, when I go from thinking to drawing, the distortion occurs as the image makes it onto the paper, thus looking little like that which I'd originally imagined. Since it's not a constant, I never quite know how the image will actually come out. Which can be exciting, or very frustration. As of late, frustration has held sway.

Motivation has been awfully hard to come by, as well. I find I have little to interest me to the point of putting pencil to paper; and when I do, I find myself so distracted by life, thoughts, and shiny objects, it's all but impossible to concentrate on any one idea. And when I do find that idea, it's almost impossible to get it to the point where I even want to try to draw it.

Which is not to say I've not been drawing. But I've just been so worn out lately. I have a couple things, none of which are really worth posting, but with some more attention, might not be too terrible to post. I've not yet given up on the art, but we're not really on the best of terms of late.

I do know that I occasionally do better if given some manner of external motivation. So, I'm taking requests. What do YOU want to see? Less words? Polar Bear in Snow? Coal Mine at Night? Please, let me know.

Thanks for stopping by.

Music: "The Sound of Silence" - Simon and Garfunkel

Sketchadoodledoo

Because no one demanded it!

More sketches.

Hmm... looks like this one is Kung Fu Panda (looking like the head of some CGI Care Bear for all I know), some bizarre escapee from The Incredibles, cartoon girl's head, a really freaky Mr. Spock (with all the lines being kinda parallel, he looks like his face is melting), a shadowy hatted fellow, and some Imperial Moff (which now explains the solar panel coming from Spock's head).

I'm tired, sorry- this is as funny as it gets.

Something Friday, I think. You may now rejoice.

Music: "Outta My Head"- Ashlee Simpson

P.S. Did something happen in the news today?

I've got a feeling...

... Pittsburgh's going to the Super Bowl.

Music: "Pittsburgh Polka"

Sketchaway

As threatened, actual drawn content.

Did this bit of sketching at Mom's house on or around the Christmas holidays... I think. It's been a while. Anyway, not really attempting much of anything, though I will say Star Trek was on my mind somewhat. A little bit of a mix of styles (such as they are) show up here, as you can probably tell. I find that style is still the hardest part of drawing (and just about everything else, as most folks who know me will attest ;), as I tend to draw based on a shape or idea, rather than from a core 'style'. Hence the old McCoy face in the middle, which is most like my usual style of drawing, to the simplified Doctor Who in the lower left (this is how I usually think of the character, almost cartoon-like by nature (in the best possible way)), to a further reduction/simplification of the guy on the right (sort of taken, stylistically, from a graphic novel some years ago called Mister Blank, to the bare-bones, angled linework of the Spock on the upper right. Not to mention the face in the lower middle section. Meh. God only knows what I was thinking at the time.

But hey, it's still drawing. As I was told, "Draw. Even if you hate it." So I did.

Anyway, that's it for now. I'll probably post some more next... Wednesday, let's say, if not sooner. Maybe a photo or two.

Stay warm.

Music: "The Devil You Know" - Jesus Jones

2008: My Year in Review

Or, "And I Thought 2004 Sucked..."

As promised/threatened, let's take a look back at the year that was 2008.

...

Okay, look- the only way I'm going to get through this is to break it up into two sections: the Bad and the Good (for those interested, you can look at 2007's year in review here).

The Bad.

-I said, if not "goodbye", then at least "I'll see you very infrequently" to some of my dearest friends on the planet. My family, really, for the past 8 years. People who were once strangers to me, then casual acquaintances, then such a close part of my life that I can't imagine life without them in it. Some I've known since before I'd moved to Maryland- back when I was just visiting, when I had to prove that I was a real person and not just an imaginary person. Some I'd met after I'd been there for a few years, voices of comfort in my darkest days, unexpected friendships blossoming like roses from a sidewalk. Some were coworkers, folks who'd watched my life fall apart, and helped me build it back up. Some were just people who, instead of just smiling and going on their way, stopped and talked and laughed and made me feel like I was a person again. Some of them, in their quiet ways, have literally kept me alive- and I don't know if they knew it. Leaving these wonderful people, who'd given me such hope and joy and comfort, was far and away the hardest part of leaving Maryland.

-I had to watch one of my oldest and dearest friends, who has, in her short life, suffered more than any human should ever have to bear, stand by and lose her mother, and know there was nothing she could do, except bear this further suffering.

-I stood by my brother (remember, not all brothers need share blood) and watched the man we both call 'Father' slip the surly bonds of earth. I cried with him, hugged him, stood by him, because there was nothing else I could do.

-I lost my Father. I had the man I most admired, the man I looked to for inspiration, for guidance, for my self, taken from me, from all of us-- no, I'm sorry. He wasn't 'taken'. He chose the time to walk off this stage; he just didn't tell us beforehand. Which was his way, so as to not hurt anyone. Regardless, though, he's gone. He left suddenly, unexpectedly, as though in the middle of a sentence. Four days after I returned home, and he was gone. His passing has hurt me so deeply, so profoundly, I don't even realize how badly I'm hurting until I'm already crying, or screaming, or shaking. Now walking down the path walked before,by so many others, I just don't know how you've all do it. I just don't know how I make it through the day, sometimes.

-The three men in my life that I called "Father" (or "Pops" or "Dad" or "The Fascist") are gone. I can no longer ask them for advice, or ideas, or even just a funny story. I can no longer talk to my fathers. But Thank God, I can talk to their sons. My brothers and I, those of the blood and those of the will, all bear scars now- these scars of pain, of loss, of pride. These scars that say "We are our fathers' sons." We stand there, we scarred sons. But we do not stand alone.

The Good.
(an abbreviated list)

-As if I needed any further reminding of how immensely blessed I am, I need look no further than the outpouring of love and concern from my friends and family during those days- How lucky my whole family is, to know such people. My brothers were there, whenever I was feeling lost, to help me find my way. Friends came in from many miles away, which meant so much to me and my family. My Mom said it exactly right when she told me "You have such good friends; you're so fortunate to have them in your life."

-I made the conscious decision to give up everything I knew in my life, my comfortable mire of my own making, and took the biggest gamble of my life, and moved back to Pittsburgh. While at first this doesn't sound like much of a gamble, for those who know me, they know how hard this was for me. To give up the easy life, as it were, to come back to a place I've not really known in almost 10 years, where it would've been just as easy to slip back into those old habits and become that boy I was all those years ago, it was one of the hardest choices I've ever made. But, of course, it turned out to be the exact right thing to do- really, the only choice I could've made. Who knew? Well, I have my suspicions about that, and when I see him next, I'll be sure to ask.

-I started a new job, in a new town, where I only knew one person. And damned if I don't do it pretty well. Not as well as I'd like, of course, but hell, I feel like I do it okay, and if that's not a triumph, I don't know what is.

-I got to welcome yet more of the next generation of my friends into the world, and celebrate the first of many, many birthdays to come for some of the 'older' members of the JE:TNG club.

-I walked up to a woman and gave her my phone number. And we went out.

-I made it to 150 posts on this infernal thing.

-I watched a bunch of movies with family and friends, both old friends and new.

-I met new people, and talked to them!

-I went on a date again- more than one! With the same person! We're still dating!

-I learned sometimes, it's okay to be pushed.

-I drove to Toledo, OH, with my niece to see a concert for a band we both like.

-I started to be a better uncle to my niece.

-I started to teach her how to drive a car (debated if that was 'good' or 'bad')

-I was able to terrorize my cats more by moving.

-I got to spend more time with my brother and nephews, hanging out.

-I had fresh Gino's pizza on a drive back to Maryland.

-I was able to visit the best part of Ledo's.

-I surprised Katie, Courtney, and Doris.

-I went to dinner with the Tooth Fairy.

-I surprised Ashley.

-I read a lot of friggin' books.

-I spent my tenth year at Chincoteague with my friends.

-I got to have some really good talks with my Mom. Not just about this or that, but about things that really matter.

-I was able to see first hand just how strong my mother is.

-I fulfilled a promise I made to my father over twenty years ago. And he remembered.

-I was able to surprise my Mom and Dad, and spend one of the best days of my life with them, sitting in a hospital room, talking and listening and laughing with them.

-I told my Dad how much I loved him.

-My brothers stood by me, and I by them.

-We honored our father.

-I realized just how much my parents love and respect me.

-I learned I can be the man my father knew I could be.

-I kept picking up a pencil.

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If I haven't said it enough, thank you all for stopping in to visit, whether it's been your first stop or your hundred sixty-whateverth, knowing this doesn't exist in a vacuum helps make it all worthwhile.

I know this past year's hardly been a cornucopia of drawing greatness (or even drawing mediocrity), and I do apologize for that. I've found a good bit of trouble in focusing, as you've noticed, and although I've kept picking up that pencil, it's hardly been an easy go of it.

But I've not given up yet. I have some things in the pipeline, and I'm thinking about posting some of my old, old sketches. It'd be interesting, I think, to show how I've changed as an artist, both in subject and method (though maybe not so much the subject). I do still plan on writing, so don't expect that to go away. Hopefully you'll be back. If you like it, tell them I did it; if you don't, tell them I did it. Go ahead, I can take it.

Love,
s.

Songs are in the sky now
Suns are in my veins
Throw me in the fire now
Love is what remains
-Joan Osborne, "Hallelujah in the City"

Hey Kids, Look! Drawings!

Believe it or not, a post with actual drawings.

Well, sorta.

I did this about a month or so ago- just trying to sketch something, not necessarily with any goal in mind. I think the Punisher came about after Sean and I were talking about the then-upcoming Punisher movie (never seen, and planning on keeping it that way). I was just trying to come up with something fun and cartoony- which mostly worked here, I think. I mean, seriously, does that look like a realistic gun?

The other was just the usual drawing of a face- nothing planned or thought out, just trying to make it look not-horrible. It's an 'eh' face, though I do like the nose.

But there you go, actual pencilled work. Crazy, right?

Alright. Next post, sometime this week, God help me, will be the Year in Review. Yeah, it'll probably not be as feel-good as last year's.

Music: "When the World is Running Down" - The Police

Peace

Wherever you may be, and with whomever you are spending it, let this be a time of peace and joy for you and all those you love.

Merry Christmas

Self Portrait(s), Hand(s)

This is the start of an idea I'd had a while ago. Apologies for the lack of a truly finished product, but I think it works interestingly as is. Note that the paper is blank.

Apologies as well for the lack of any real update. Life has been, as they say, interesting. Up, down, most points in between, it only proves the says "Changes aren't permanent, but change is". Also, "Expect the unexpected". Hopefully I will have something at least marginally artistically-inclined to post next time, or else I'll subject you to the oft-threatened written post. Perhaps about music. Or perhaps set to music.

Anyway, to the Land of Nod with me.

Music: "When The Day Met The Night" - Panic! At The Disco

Blue Barchetta

I commit my weekly crime, with nary an alloy air-car in sight...

And yes, this is exactly where it stopped, first time.

Music: Duh...

Thanks for the Memories

So, I can either write about how I felt through most of Thanksgiving, or I can post pictures of some of the fun had over the long weekend with my family.

Right, pictures it is.

Friday, the whole pack of us (excepting my sister, who had to work!) went to Phipps Conservatory in Oakland. We'd mostly all been there before, though the trips range from 15 years ago to "it's not polite to ask" years ago. I'm no plant lover (just look at my botany grades from college for proof), but there's something very... satisfying about looking at the wondrous variety to them, from shape to color to smell (Chocolate! They have a plant that smells like chocolate!), even texture. The Conservatory is overwhelming to the senses, and in a good way. It's so- alive. Which is an obvious, yet appropriate, word choice. The highlight would be the fact that we took my mom with us. I haven't been out with mom to a "fun" place (like an amusement park, or whatnot) in probably 20 years, and it was great. It was so cool to see her out and taking in all the sensations of the place. She couldn't get around very well, but my niece Emily was more than happy to steer her around in a wheelchair. I think we were all tired by the end of the day, but it was a good kind of tired.

They have a wonderful Thailand display there, with all kinds of plants and flowers. They also have a pond-type arrangement with clear sides... and if you look close, it looks like someone's about to grab the fish. That jerk.

Saturday was a trip to the Carnegie Museums with my brother Mark and his son Jon. I'd been there earlier this year (also known as the 'Apocalypse Vacation'), but Mark and Jon hadn't been in some time. Enough had changed that it was worth the time to visit and snap some pics, including this one of one of the two T. rexes (rexii?) from the Museum's new 'T. REX VS. T. REX' display. Let me tell you, if you've not been since the renovations, it's highly worth the visit. Taking pages from amusement park playbooks, the information and education is well-disguised as fun. Sadly, though, as you walk through the rest of the museum, it's easy to see that not all branches of science and learning are equally appreciated. It is nice to see, however, that there were still plenty of people stopping to look at the rest of the museum, though maybe not with as much enthusiasm.

Worst thing overheard? "I don't get it- this is a HISTORY museum- why do they have modern animals? They aren't history!" *sigh*

We also hit the art museum pretty hard, but don't have any pictures of that. Sadly, most all of the 'modern' art is copyrighted, and thus can't be photographed. Because, after all, art is a commodity. *sigh, again*

Those complaints aside, it was a weekend of high culture for the Darrall clan, and another great chance to spend time hanging out. To cap it off, Mark, Jon and I went to Sean's place to watch Sukiyaki Western Django- I loved it, but I'm not sure that's a universal opinion...

Later.

Music: "Angels" - Robbie Williams

Thankful

I'm thankful for time.

Time, to spend with loved ones.

Time, to reflect on all I've learned, all I've lived.

Time, to remember those not here with us now.

Time, to recall the past.

Time, to move beyond.

Time, to ease my wounds.

Time, to bring a new tomorrow.



Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

One Little Victory

When it comes down to it, I think the little things are what make the strongest impact in our lives. To be sure, there are momentous, life-changing events, those ones that are marked down either on a calendar or in our hearts, those ones we always seem to associate with a date: beginnings, milestones, endings. These events most people recall most readily when discussing a particularly great or terrible time in their lives. For me, this year has been the kind of year punctuated by these dates, events marked in my mind and in my heart, and no doubt, in the years to come, I'll look at a calendar and begin a countdown to the anniversaries of those dates held so close to me, and the days will seem a bit more grey, life a bit more listless, time a bit more wearying. Those times will wear at me. Those times will be reminders (as if my life isn't a constant reminder) of all I've lost, of all we've lost, this past year, these past years. These events are like anchors in a soul, if not dragging one down, then certainly slowing him down, making it so terribly hard to move, to move on.

And then there are those events that will never appear on a calendar, never marked by milestones, nor celebrations, not noted by the date nor by some other sign so obvious. Instead, those events will be remembered and revered at the most inconspicuous times, triggered by the most minor of reminders, bringing out a feeling of light and life and love that just overwhelms that grey, listless and weary dreary existence. It reminds you that you are alive, and life, no matter how bad it can sometimes seem, is ALWAYS worth living. Where there is life, there is always hope. These little things, these ones that ultimately mean so much, can happen every day. It doesn't have to be much: it can be something as simple as having an unexpectedly deep conversation with your mom, spending a few minutes laughing with kids, of any age, or spending a weekend with your friends, just... watching TV, or going shopping, or going to a bake sale. Whatever! These little things will be those things you look back on, days or months or years later, and say to yourself "THAT'S when life got better for me."

I've spent this past year surrounded by death. What should've been a mental and emotional rebirth of sorts for me has instead been hammerblow after hammerblow to me, to my family, and to some of my oldest and dearest friends. I'd been so slowed down, so worn down, by all this death and loss, I hadn't even realized just what kind of toll it had taken on me. All those events marked on those calendars from now on, all those dates I'll dread to see coming up...

But now, finally, I've also seen all those events that get no marks on calendars, those little victories that take so much of the sting out of that loss and bring sweetness and joy back to life. I've finally seen and realized how important those are to me- just as important as all those losses I'm reminded of, I'll be looking back at those little victories and remind myself of all I have, and all I've gained.

Welcome Home, Jagoff

Back, for now.

Here's Pittsburgh, from one of the bridges, in the middle of my first sustained snowfall here since moving back. On one hand, I'm very happy, as I miss proper winters. On the other hand, since I spend most of my time working outside, this is gonna suck. Oh well, that's what health insurance and whisk(e)y is for.

I don't know how often I'll get anything posted up for the forseeable future. Certainly not much by way of actual drawing. I have been picking up the pencil again, but I've been taking it slowly- so as not to scare off my already far too fickle muse. Sad to say, but I'm just not often in the mood to draw recently. I'm hoping that'll all change, but we'll see. I still have plenty I'd like to draw, and much to write about (new music, for one, movies for another, still plenty of books to go around), but until I can get back into the groove, I just can't come around to firing up that creative spark. Or when I do, I'm rarely in a position to act on it. Finding that spark is a lot like being a 15-year-old boy; I never know when I'll get the urge, or how long it will last. As it were.

Anyway, that's what I've got for now. Thanks for sticking with me, I'll try to make the visits worthwhile, as best I can.

Music: "Monster Ballads" - Josh Ritter

Lost

High Flight

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long delirious, burning blue,
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew -
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untresspassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

Pilot Officer Gillespie Magee
No 412 squadron, RCAF

For Roger Hutchinson, my third father.

DEATH, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so:
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death; nor yet canst thou kill me.
From Rest and Sleep, which but thy picture be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow;
And soonest our best men with thee do go--
Rest of their bones and souls' delivery!
Thou'rt slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell;
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke. Why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And Death shall be no more: Death, thou shalt die!

John Donne

For Catherine Elder, mother of Dawn, one of my oldest friends.

Be at peace.