The Case of the Artful Dodger.
1936 to 2009

73 y o ....a Full beautiful Life Lived.

David Carradine passed on to New Life Experiences & Opportunities.

Here's a link to one  Carradine website:

http://david-carradine.com/bio.html

Talk about a Balanced Human Being. Multi-Talented.

Like many of you, I grew up watching the Beloved one Wander & Transform those

around him, with gentle strength, a Bendable Palm in the Wind.

Dodging adversaries with swift counter-attacks.

   The role of Kwai Chang Caine was originally intended for Bruce Lee, however due

to the Rigidity of the Powers that BE,  in Hollywood at the time, [early '70s], there was an epidemic fear

that an Asian man, in a lead role, would not draw the ratings of a predominantly white

American audience.

Hence, David Carradine was given the lead role, and he honored it gracefully.

I remember the smoothness in the way D. C. would dismantle his sudden opposition, often

utilizing a style of Defense & Dodge tactics. Striking opponents with swift defensive

compassion & mercy. To see him move with such Artistic flexibility, as well as focus,

amazed me as a kid. A soul that surrenders, and bends with flexibility.

There is an Artistic Beauty that's apparent in Jeet Kune Do.

Mimicking the Fluidity of the movements of Asian Calligraphy.

An expression of writing I became familiar with in High School Art Class.

Learning the craft of jewelry making, how heat molds the metal, the

way cold clay felt as you applied water to it, spinning the clay to create my  first vase.

Heating it in the oven. The glaze.

The poetic hand movements of  East Asian Calligraphy, and the way the

 it synchronically parallels the artful dance of martial arts.

   Ever try to write with a paint brush?     You don't.

 You feel  the "characters" which are a language of the soul. The rhythm & the way you hold the paint brush.
However, I have come to appreciate the Logic of the English language and alphabet.

The Intuitive- slant of cursive penmanship. Look back at the careful penmanship of

our English ForeFathers, Thomas Jefferson & Ben Franklin, or Abraham Lincoln's

prose, in the Bixby Letter, or even some of your personal acquaintences who have

rather nice penmanship. Yet the expressions of the Eastern languages on paper

mulberry, hemp canvases and parchments fascinate me. Writing styles and

techniques used often in China, Japan, Korea, & Vietnam.

        The Abyss & Deep Blackness of the inks used, all these memories have resurfaced,

 the sensitive pressure on the hairs of the brush, appear quite vivid to me. Water

acting as the Eraser. Even in Junior High School, I loved the trips we used to take

outside in the time of  summer, sitting in a circle, free sketching trees, homes, streets, and each other.

At Milwaukee Tech, I had an art class, one of my favorite study hours.

At the tone of the bell, students would proceed to the next hour class.

I liked most of my classes, but when the Bell Tolled for Art Class.
I stepped into another dimension....

IMAGINATION.

Free roaming imagination. This was something I MASTERED as a little kid.

Here we explored the delicate craft of jewlrey making, molding of clay, and

calligraphy, free style sketching, charcoals, oil paints...etc.
..... and the greatest artform ever created,

...the  masterpiece known as the HUMAN PHYSICALITY. The Human Body.

It is here that I am in a Divine Place. Like Writing. Heaven on earth

....but I humbly compose myself daily.
This is the same teacher, who literally begged me on bended knee to take a career in

Commercial Arts. Commercial mainstream artistry. Creating the advertisements that fight for your attention in the grocery store aisle or on television commercials.

Anyways, I recall  the entire class of  students were required to  purchase  a sketch

book. We added a new entry input at the end of each week. Remember, I was a  painfully shy Black Kid

in an predominantly white High School.  One odd day, my teacher surprises me, by

doing something out of the ordinary.

In a moment of frustration from seeing another students sketch book compilation, 

my male art teacher grabs my sketch book in holds it UP with both hands in front of

the entire class.

And Triumphantly...

 Defiantly!.....Proclaiming....

"Now THIS is how a Sketch Book she BE!"

Black man turning Red again, Embarrassingly SWEET.

Art teacher spontaneity again....

another day he pulls me by the arm out of my chair, walks me to the CENTER of the

entire class, and hoists me on a desk, unto a chair.....

........Fox6Fan Becomes the ART FORM.

Ecstasy.

I remain still while the other classmates DRAW ME.

The Roads & Pathways of Life often take many sudden turns. Occasionally veering

completely off track.
I suppose that dream lives on in an Alternate Reality.
 These pleasant thoughts often bring me comfort & joy.

 Sears the Writer, Poet, the Logical Math Professor,

Computer Graphics designer, Movie Director, the Intuitive High School Art Teacher

....all experiences remain quite valid. Branching off into eternity.

Take for instance, a television news Anchor, who longs to have been a priest,  a left-handed

professional baseball pitcher, or politician/actor, or Tour de France bicyclist...etc.

"The passionate residue remains with the spirit or soul, as hobbies or recreational experiences."

I do not even draw anymore. Nor do I miss it. Or care to.

HOWEVER,   I continue to appreciate any fine piece of art, a tree, a bird, a star even.
Whether it's a chalice of red wine or Angelina Jolie,  a good book on a shelf

or even the ironic COMPLEX simplicity that IS life itself.
might  I add......I would have made a Superb Art Mentor in High School. Isn't that a

darn shame.... isn't it?

Hmm...

Oh well,  ya' know what Erykah Badu says,

.......maybe NEXT LIFETIME? Got thousands of 'em...

{wink&asmile)