September 18, 2006 Bonus Blog
Went home for lunch and finished three studies. The first is the Failure Pile reject I took another stab at. Here it is:



The second study is a sweet little cloud job called "Fanfare Over Mexican Hat." I saw this sucker on the way home from the archery center last week with Lou and my Mom. Pulled over and took a snapshot with my trusty little Kodak file sharer. Here it is:



The third one actually talked to me, and this is what it said: "He rode out of a sunset, and just as the story of the West was ending, his was just beginning. . ."



"Artists who talk while they paint are odd, but paintings that talk to artists, well, that's just Apache Wacky."
—Vincent Van Google

September 18, 2006
I drove up to Prescott yesterday and had lunch with Janet Childress (U of A art grad and Gamma Phi Beta). Prescott was slammed with tourists and the downtown area was jammed to the gills. Met Janet on Whiskey Row then walked down to her co-op art gallery and saw her impressive pottery. Also saw a cartoonist's space (he worked for Warner Bros for many years) who is making a killing by selling his sketchbook artwork. Hmmmmm. He puts out a booklet, all black and white, of the best sketches of a particular year (I looked at 2005 and 2004) and they sell for $20. He does a whole bunch of nudes, though, and perhaps that is what's driving his sales ("Hey Dad, can I buy an art book for school?"). Would you pay $20 for a sketchbook full of this?



We ended up at Genoveses Restaurant on Gurley and had a very nice Sunday brunch ($36.73 plus $7 tip I bought), then Janet drove me up the canyon to her impressive home, built by old bandmate and Kingman compadre, Terry Anderson. The house and her studio were quite impressive, very artistic and bold at every turn.

From Janet's I drove out to the Phippen Museum and picked up my cartoons. The Humor on the Range show came down Sunday. I drove home in a flurry of traffic, but got off at Carefree Highway just before the southbound lanes ground to a halt. Got home at five (184 miles round trip) and did some research, with Kathy, on visiting Creel, Mexico and Divisidero. Creel is at 7,700 feet high in the Sierra Madres and we are looking at taking the train from either Chihuahua or El Forte.

On Saturday I whipped out five cloud studies, and saved one piece from the Failure Pile. Here's how it looked as it went into the failure pile. I noticed the late afternoon clouds over Ratcliff Ridge, tipped with sunlight, but when I went in to put it on paper, it came out too bold and crude (happens a lot). So I put it down and came back to it the next day. Here's the bad version:



I'll post the later version this afternoon.

"Only a mediocre painter is always at his best."
—Vincent Van Google

September 16, 2006
Samantha took a call yesterday from a "longtime subscriber" who also reads this blog. He wouldn’t leave his name, but he wanted to register a complaint: he said he has noticed an alarming change in the blog. It seems to him I have apparently abandoned the magazine and all of a sudden it’s “all about me” and the “top secret project.”

I beg to differ. This blog has always been all about me, and yes I have been engrossed (some might say obsessed) with the Top Secret Project, but I’m still running the magazine and still doing Honkytonk Sue and still doing Classic Gunfights (by the way, Volume Three of the book series will be coming out next spring) and still doing paintings and cover illustrations and writing True West Moments and producing True West Moments (and also, by the way, Cactus Productions sent me the finished PSA and Wichita True West Moment we taped two weeks ago and we will try and get that posted, or at least up where you can view it, ASAP). And speaking of The Top Secret Project, I have planted quite a few clues as to what it’s about. Here’s a guess that came in this morning:

Flying Leap—Half A Cigar
“I got it, it's a movie, yup, thats got to be it. Yippeee!”
—J. Mitch

You’re half-right. The distinguished professor is doing a screenplay and I’m doing a graphic novel. Hopefully, they’ll have something in common.

In Texas Them Are Semi-Fightin’ Words Department
“Per an article in the September YALE ALUMNI MAGAZINE (passed on to me by a Yalie friend—my academic roots are decidedly more plebian), Fred Shapiro's forthcoming YALE BOOK OF QUOTATIONS traces the word ‘motherf*****g’ to several late 19th century court documents in Texas.

“The oldest citation for the insult in J.E. Lighter's canonical HISTORICAL DICTIONARY OF AMERICAN SLANG was 1928. Thus for the moment, until an earlier usage wells up, Texas has the honors. Another jewel in its corona.

“Per the YAM article: ‘In at least two appeals of murder convictions, the killer failed to persuade the court that the deceased, having used the m-word, had it coming to him.’

“The bar for fighting words in 19th century Texas must have been set higher than we thought.”
—Dan Buck, Washington, DC

”My mother aside, sir, get to the point”
—unknown gunfighter just prior to slapping gun leather

September 15, 2006 Bonus Bonus Blog
The advance copies of the November issue of True West came in the door this morning from Banta in Kansas City. A very handsome issue with stellar pieces by our own Bob McCubbin (his photos are always a treat) and an excellent review of two new Crazy Horse bios by Alden Big Man Jr. You should be getting your issue in the mail starting this weekend.

I got a call last Tuesday from John Gastin, a subscriber in Blyth, California, who claims his frend and neighbor, Worth Duncan, claims he stole my mother's new hat when he was eight years old (I think he's in his late seventies now). This allegedly happened down on the Gila in the late twenties. Worth claims his dad found the hat and made him return it. My mother said, when I related the incident to her, "I never got my hat back." Hmmmm, I may get a hat lawyer.

San Carlos Officer's Headquarters Set Scene Progress
I have been sketching and fretting over the opening set scene for the Top Secret Project for two months now (see first sketch from July 23, below). I'm getting closer, but still no cigar:



I have tried to capture the claustrophobia of the setting. Here's a color study:



And utilizing the Fort Apache snapshot here are a few character studies in blue:



I hope to work on this set piece this weekend and hopefully I'll post some positive progress.

By the way, according to my White Mountain source, "Bi-jashn" is Apache for a shady lady.

"All of us are crazy in one way or another."
—Old Vaquero Saying

September 15, 2006 Bonus Blog
Here are three more views of my studio, two of them taken this morning, while in the thick of the Top Secret Project:





The bottom photo shows the same desk area from a distance, looking into the original part of the studio (the history of this space continues this weekend). That's Peaches listening to the radio (speakers at left) during the storm. Now here's a photo from last weekend when I was trying to get a handle on all of my art reference. Note the numerous Remington books, and also the lazy-assed dog in the chair (it's Buddy Boze Hatkiller):



As I mentioned, more photos and history to follow, including much new BBB artwork stolen from Remington and Rembrandt.

"If you are going to steal, steal from the best."
—Old Vaquero Artist Saying

September 15, 2006
More rain last night. The air feels turgid and San Diego-ish.

I worked last night on overviews of the Top Secret Project set piece. Realized it needs a hazy, dust-laden patina, with lots of creeping light coming through the brush arbor openings in the officer’s headquarters at San Carlos. So I went to the Netflix website and typed in Heaven’s Gate and put it at the top of my “Q” (request list). I seem to remember every interior scene in that notorious Western had copious amounts of dust in the air to simulate old photos. Can’t wait to see what I can steal, I mean emulate, from that film.

True West Maniacs Go Global!
“Prompted by the mail from Gary in Swansea: You do know what the next stage in the True West Maniac campaign is, don't you? Maniac Clubs. Local gatherings of TW Maniacs at pubs. Club excursions. Newsletters. The clubs volunteering to do presentations on the Old West at nearby schools and nursing homes. It'll be like regional Alumni Associations.

“I don't know if you've created a monster, but that's definitely the work in progress. Congratulations!”
—Emma Bull, Tucson, Arizona

Odd Request #327
“Would you please post a picture of yourself in your Big Bad Book of Big Bad Diary Entries where you are fully clothed but in your barefeet or socked-feet? You are a great looking guy and you look as though you have a large size pair of feet. Also, Bob, what is your foot size? Thank you for any response and posting.
—Samantha Aldridge, Parsons, Kansas

Friday On My Mind
“Man, did you really watch Fort Apache? 'Cause you got some things, er, wrong. Henry Fonda played Col. Thursday, not Tuesday. You must have had Friday on your mind. And John Wayne's remark regarding the painting is ‘Correct in every detail.’ Your quote of that was, let's say, inaccurate. I forgive you. But will the ghost of John Ford haunt you over this?”
—Mark Boardman

He already is. I increasingly dream in black and white and every scene is framed thru doorway shots.

”When the facts become mangled, print the mangled facts.”
—John Chevy

September 14, 2006 Bonus Blog
Sprinkling at dusk. Dave Daiss said today at lunch it’s the seventh wettest monsoon season on record. Well, we needed the rain and the clouds are still spectacular.

The History of My Art Studio: Part One
In the beginning there was the dining room table—and it was good. Or, it was good enough. From the age of about three (my first memory of drawing) until the year 1986 (37 years!), almost all of my artwork was created and produced on a dining room table. First at my parent’s homes in Swea City, Iowa, then in Kingman, Arizona in three different houses, the last and favorite being on legendary Ricca Drive. When I came home from school, the dining room table was where I landed. While my mother made dinner I would draw until my dad came home and if I was lucky, he would stop and say, “Pretty good, kid.” (actually, I still love to draw at the dining room table, and from time to time Kathy will kick me out saying, “You have a 1,500 foot state-of-the-art studio. Go use it!”).

When I went to the University of Arizona (1965-1970) I was miserable for the first semester because there was no dining room table in my dorm, Cochise Hall. Luckily, as a sophomore, I moved into Park Lee Apartments, where I immediately commandeered the kitchen table for art projects, much to the chagrin of every roommate I ever had.

When I got married to Kathy, the dining room table was still my domain, until we had kids. That’s when I lost my dining room studio privileges. I remember the day it happened: Deena was tiny, with a big, bald Baby Huey head, and I had to babysit her, but I was on deadline and had a New Times comic double-truck spread due the next day. Kathy was gone, so I put Deena up on the dining room table where I could sort of keep track of her and work at the same time. Well, you could have phoned this one in. She was content for about ten seconds, then casually reached out and grabbed my open jug of Pelikan black ink and dumped it over everything I was working on, including Dewey Webb’s favorite movie book which I had borrowed for art reference. The stains never came out of that table or the book (it took me two years to find a replacement for Dewey and I still have the ink stained version, filed right here next to my computer and I’m looking at the black stained edges even as I type this).

Coming next, Part Two: I graduate to a spare bedroom, but I’m still not happy.

September 14, 2006
I took my mom and Lou to the airport at six this morning. Of course Lou was up at four, had his bow packed and by the door and pounded on my door at 5:30. We got to the airport at seven, I tipped a skycap $5 to ferry my mother through security in a wheelchair, and fought my way clear of the Beast in rush hour traffic. Fortunately most of the traffic was going the other way.

As promised, let's take a tour of my studio. Here's my main art desk (I have three, in different rooms) and as you can see, The Top Secret Project is spread out all over the surface. That's the big Rembrandt poster that Fred Nolan sent me. Intimidating, no?



Also, an image of the main character in The Top Secret Project is on the desk. And speaking of the Top Secret Project, which as you know will be a GN, and a movie on paper, and feature numerous set pieces, or master shots. One of them opens the movie, I mean GN, and it will be of an interior of the officer's headquarters at San Carlos. The Top Secret Writer and I loaded this scene up with a whole bunch of characters (easy to do when you're writing a scene, but much harder when you have to draw it!). I wanted to portray the place in the period when San Carlos was a rough outpost (it was never a fort), and in the early photographs it's all tents and brush-jacal arbors. Here's a scene from my sketchbook, which I lifted from a photo of an old stagestop (can't remember where I got it), but I like the holes in the roof and wall, and the gnarly wooden posts in and among the furniture.




Now, to people that room with accurate military men, in the proper uniforms (or lack of uniforms!), and also capture the resemblence of the seven men in the room (there are photographs of almost everyone assembled). I pictured the main officer behind his desk and various Apache scouts, plus Chief of Scouts Al Sieber and Tom Horn sitting and standing around the desk. I drew several rough sketches of where I wanted the men in the scene to be and mailed it to Jim Hatzell up in the Dakotas and he shot 11 rolls of film utilizing a wide cast of characters who show up at his annual Artist's Ride. Here are several sketches of the main characters which I gleaned from Hatzell's photos (the three sketches are of the Scout Curly, Lt. Mott and Tom Horn):



Next, I needed a room full of soldiers that approximated my sketch and that led me to Netflix, where I ordered the classic John Ford movie Fort Apache. Watching it on my office laptop, I found the exact scene I wanted at 12:12 and took a snapshot of it for my art reference (see below). The problem with the scene is that it's a tad formal (it was obvioiusly shot on a sound stage), and the room is too clean. I'll show more of this scene development as we go along and the script, so you can see how it progresses. And by they way, as I write this I do not have this scene nailed, at all.



"Accurate in every detail."
—Capt Kirby (John Wayne), at the end of Fort Apache, describing a bogus painting of the glorious battle between Cochise and Lt. Col. Owen Tuesday (standing in for Lt. Col. Custer and the Battle of the Little Bighorn)

September 13, 2006 Bonus Blog
Yesterday, Lou Cady, Jr. borrowed my Ranger and drove back into the Beast for another archery lesson at Straight & Arrow, an archery store and range at 29th Ave. and McDowell. So I was on foot. Had a massage at four with Christie Wilcox and she said to me, "You seem rather tight," and I said, "My mother's here."

Speaking of my lovely mother, I posed her yesterday, holding a triptic of her as a young Mohave County Beauty, in front of the Spanish Rodeo Poster in our dining room. After a couple solo shots I asked Tap Lou and Billy Weir to join her. Here's the best shot of that effort:



Meanwhile, after my massage I was on foot, so I called Kathy to come get me, and while I was waiting I started watching a big thunderhead build over Elephant Butte. From my perch at Black Mountain Gym, I furiously sketched the tall booger, then when I got home I laid in the washes and color scheme I remembered. Here's that image:



Going home for lunch today, then bringing back Lou and my mom for the True West tour. Lou is anxious to meet Carole Glenn because he was impressed with her helping him book his ticket from Cody. They go home tomorrow.

"Do not be too timid and squeamish about your actions. All life is an experience."
—Ralph Waldo Emerson

September 13, 2006
Woke up at five. Went out early for my bike ride with the dogs. Spectacular skies in all four directions, masterpieces all. I tried to memorize the effects but ultimately, they are too grand and too subtle, all at the same time. I end up just admiring them before they disappear (usually in about two minutes they're gone).

Blogging, Blogging, Blogging, Sold American!
“Two days in a row, I must be getting very involved in your blog. I like the landscape for the blog yesterday. I think you do a great job with all the desert colors. You can feel a storm coming. By the way, how much for the John Wayne ‘failure’? It looks nice to me.”
—Hugh Howard, Maniac# 9, SASS# 49890

Hugh, because you are a Maniac (which practically makes us kin) I’ll give you the Duke for $75. Does that work for you?

“I'll send you a check next week when I get back in town. If you will sign it that would be great.”
—Hugh

Thanks Hugh, but please, please don’t tell anyone. I don’t want anyone else to know I’m practically giving these damn things away.

The Road To Erudition
When my cousin Tap Lou was visiting yesterday, I gave her a tour of my studio and she later commented, “I had no idea all of the extra work it takes you to produce a finished painting.” Boy Howdy!

Based on her comment, I thought it might be instructive to give you a tour of my studio, so you can see where I work, and then to walk you through the sketches and planning for one specific scene. We’ll start that tour tomorrow.

“Necessity never made a good bargain.”
—Benjamin Franklin

September 12, 2006 Bonus Blog
Went home for lunch and warmed up some turkey for the gang. Showed Tap Lou and her husband Billy Weir my studio. Gave Tap Lou my recent painting of Tap Duncan riding across Red Lake. She was thrilled. She gave me some rare photos of our family and pics of several family members who were allegedly related to John Wesley Hardin.

Speaking of horse wranglers and movies sets:

"On a few occasions when I was doing costumes for the movies, I was allowed to play a part. First, because I was there, and second, I carried a Screen actors Guild Card. On one show, I was cast as the leading man's neighbor - a rancher; and the star and I had several scenes together with dialogue while both of us were on horseback. This particular leading man was resented by the wranglers because he had insisted in having his own horse brought to location (putting a movie horse out of a job), and he was very persnickety about how the wranglers treated his mount. So, when it came time for me to go to work, they gave me a horse that was almost two hands higher than the star's, which made me look like John Wayne next to the guy; plus, during the scenes we did together, the wranglers held my horse's bridle off camera so its head wouldn't bob up and down covering my face during my close up. Of course, they did not do the same thing during the leading man's close ups, and he was never aware of their little scheme."
—Steve Lodge

Ah yes, movie politics. And speaking of horse operas, here's that John Wayne wash I was talking about the other day, you know, the one I pulled out of the failure pile:



It's from a Stagecoach I believe. Here's another aspect of my art that I'm trying to develope:



I call this method, Push It Til It Breaks. I keep adding color and values far beyond where I normally would, moving past every warning signal my body and mind can muster. Many times (if not most times) it collapses in a wall of mud, but every once in a while it congeals into something quite thick and juicy. The above is a pretty solid represenation of the bluffs around San Carlos, with the white line strata that makes that area so unique. The sky is full of many colors (see opaque areas in upper sky with the under layers peeking through), loaded down with value, but the sky is still very wet just the same. Almost seems like magic. Try it!

Meanwhile, in my sketchbook, I sometimes let my subconscious take over and just start sketching with no apparent theme or subject matter. After I let go, and let go (it's very hard, we have been taught over and over, "What is that you're making? No, really what is it?"), but I keep going and keep my mind away from the end result. This too ends in many a train wreck, but sometimes, something gels, like this:



I call this terracotta sonata, and I'm not sure exactly what it is, but it's very Apache, and I have a hunch it will end up in the book. It just has a certain integrity, I could never have "willed" on it. Michael Stipe of REM claims he wrote their new CD without his concious mind. Someday I'll have that much courage, but not today. Ha.

"Show Biz is high school, with money."
—Martin Mull

September 12, 2006
My cousin Tap Lou (Duncan) Weir is coming out today to visit with my mother this morning. She grew up in Kingman and is named after Tap Duncan (her grandpa). Speaking of Kingman, a subscriber, Bud Hart from Kingman called this morning and wondered when I was in Kingman and I said, " 1956-1966. Are you related to Joe Hart?" and he said, "Yep, he's my ugly younger brother." That's so Kingman.

Here's an alert reader's response to our latest issue:

"I want you to look at something and tell me what you see.  The last issue of True West page 22 the picture of Kurt Russell and Val Kilmer.  Is someone holding Kilmer's horse?  Look between his hand and his belt.  Is that a hand holding the reins of the horse?  Is that a modern straw had over his left shoulder?  HOLLYWOOD? 
 
"I could not tell but it struck me as funny.  In the movie everyone wore felt hats of the period and I don't remember the staw.  It could be something else but I was reading that article by Beck, and a good read, but I saw the picture and the cop in me keep asking what the hell is wrong here?" 
—Steve Sederwall, Capitan, New Mexico

Steve, you've got an eagle eye. I have seen that photo for ten years and never noticed it, but you're right. There is a hand below Kilmer's and that appears to be a straw hat behind his shoulder. I'd be willing to bet it's a horse wrangler. I met some of those guys on the set and they thought the costuming was fruitcake (so Kaboy), and they hated the hats, kept trying to curl them up on the sides (several of them rode as doubles for the leads) and Kevin Jarre and others kept having to correct their wardrobe, and of course, the wranglers would roll their eyes, intimating that these Hollywood guys didn't know what a real cowboy looked like, when ironically, they did and it was the kaboys who were full of it.

Dan Harshberger just walked in. It must be Kingman oldtimers day here in Cave Creek. I've got a bunch of artwork to post, but it'll have to wait.

"The dead don't die. They look on and help."
—D.H. Lawrence

September 11, 2006 Bonus Blog
Here are some of the storm shots from Saturday. This is the scene at Grapevine Wash as we tried to make it into town. That's a sheriff's deputy on the other side, and yes, those are probably illegals on the left:



We went back towards Rockaway Hills and this is what that crossing looked like, plus it was ripping even harder downstream:



The sound was quite loud and as you can see Peaches was a bit intimidated by it all:



And finally, here's a shot of my mama, Deena and Lou Cady, Jr. at The Good Egg. Good eggs all:



"I adore simple pleasures. They are the last refuge of the complex."
—Oscar Wilde

September 11, 2006
I'm trying to avoid the 9/11 tributes, teeth gnashing, gender blaming ad nauseum commemorative blabbing, but it's hard.

It's A Small, Small, Smaller World, After All
"I have just discovered True West and will be subscribing shortly. I already have "True Tales and Amazing Legends" a good read and excellent photos. I read the interview with you in 'To the point' [my editorial in the magazine] I thought I was the only person who was an uncompromising critic of Hollywood's interpretation of the old west.

" I am also a 'Hat Nazi' and about every thing else they get wrong, casting, locations, collarless shirts is another one and as for regional variations in tack and outfits that are never explored...well!!! But when the odd scene is, almost spot on, a joy to watch.

"I cowboy'd in Colorado and Arizona in my younger days and have had a long time fascination for the Old West and not many people here, (none actually!) understand my rants. Thanks for your time."
Gary Sheaf

So I Emailed Gary back and asked him where he found True West and where "here" is. Here's his reply:

"I found out about True West through the internet, after I bought the book, 'True Stories' from Amazon. 'Here' is Swansea, South West Wales in the UK."
—Gary

I took a bunch of photos this weekend of the storm and flooding. I'll post them when I get them scanned and loaded.

"One cannot manage too many affairs; like pumpkins in the water, one pops up while you try to hold down the other."
—Old Vaquero Saying

September 10, 2006
Encountered another big rattler, this time a Coon-tailed Mohave, which slithered into our Arizona Rose Bush as Lou Cady, Jr. and I were breaking up the link cactus and replanting the limbs late this afternoon. We got nine in the ground at various places in the front yard, when I looked over and saw something moving along the ground. That curtailed the replanting urge and we came inside.

My mother has asked me ten times, "Aren't you going to kill it?" And each time I say, "Nah, they only attack mothers who ask the same question over and over."

Not really. But she keeps asking.

Last night I took Mom and Lou up to Cartwright's, the most expensive steakhouse in Cave Creek, for dinner (a certain someone who I sleep with said, "You must really feel guilty."). It was actually my pleasure. Lou said he wanted a steak and I thought to myself, "Thanks to you I don't have to clean out a certain person's diaper, and if I bought a $35 steak every night you are here, I'm still getting the better deal." They loved it. Bill was $113 plus $25 tip (the owner came over and told my mother what a wonderful son she has, so that spiked the tip, and rightfully so).

This morning we drove down to The Good Egg at Scottsdale Road and Thunderbird to meet Deena for brunch ($38, plus $7 tip, I bought). She's flying out this afternoon to give a financial presentation to The Los Angeles Times group. They are going to tape her, and then broadcast it to all their affiliates.

On the way back out from Scottsdale I stopped at Aaron Brothers and bought some more art supplies. Bought the most expensive watercolor paper (Arch 300 lb.) at $15 a sheet, got eight sheets, plus several more watercolor tablets (I like them because they are cheap and it frees me to be more bold), plus a new Crimson Dual Winsdor Newton brush ($10) a number of sharpies, a new 14-well mixing palette. Came to $189.14 (and that's with a $15.49 discount). I guess I am feeling flush because we sold one of my very best Davy Crockett paintings online last week. Why one of my Alamo buddies didn't buy it, I'll never know. It was a steal at $450. All I can say is, someone has excellent taste and they got a smokin' deal. Here it is:









"If it was just me, simple old David from Tennessee, I might drop over that wall some night, take my chances. But that Davy Crockett feller, they're all watchin' him."
—David Crockett (Billy Bob Thorton, in The Alamo)

September 9, 2006
Woke up to overcast skies. Quite cool out. Bike ride was quite nice. Came back and made pancakes for Lou (my mom’s not up yet). Started to really blow outside at about 8:50. Dark out, looks like dusk rather than early morning. Peaches is under my desk, right by my feet. Kathy suggested turning on the radio so she doesn’t hear the thunder, so here we are listening to some interview on NPR. Rig rain hit at nine, three leaks in studio, got an extra trash can out of the house and placed it under the leaks. The rain hit so hard, it blew rain under the north door of the studio. The wind knocked down a tall, exotic link cactus outside Tomcat’s window. May be more damage, still to wet out to go inspect things.

Went over to the house to feed my mama some pancakes and as I got them ready, I looked up and saw Buddy Boze Hatkiller standing at patio door with his nose steaming up the door with that look that clearly says, “C’mon Dad, it’s scary out here!”. Microwaved pancakes and bacon, parked it in front of my mom’s nose and came back out to check on dogs. Came in studio and there’s Peaches in front of the radio, looking exactly like “His Master’s Voice.” I guess she really does enjoy listening to the radio during a storm. I wonder if Arbitron could use these stats? Hmmmmm. Dog ratings.

I spent last night visiting and spending time with my mother and Lou (Kathy’s on a “trip”). The talking was fun, but they watch way too much Fox News (“Ralph ‘Bucky’ Phillips has been captured and we’re going to show you the same video clip of him riding in a police cruiser another fifty times, and sometimes in slow mo, and if that’s not numbing enough, at the same time, we’ll feed crawls that will make your skin crawl!”) and I had to get up and come out to the studio. It’s just too depressing and irritating to me. Too much death and weirdness and creepy people (and that’s just the anchors!). Speaking of checking out. . .

My mother is somewhere beyond “forgetful.” She can remember exactly her first horse and her saddle and riding with her father on their ranch at York (near Duncan, AZ), but she can’t remember that my father is dead (“Your dad must be getting older now, too?” “Not really, mom, he’s been dead for eight years.”). I was talking about this with Jane Bischoff yesterday and she said she is going through the same thing with her mother and you just have to separate the two people. One was bright, and funny and had a mind as sharp as a tack, and that person is gone. So true, still painful.

The Good, The Boze And The Ugly
I just had to write and tell you that I absolutely love your 2000th drawing!!! Man! Whether you meant to, or not, you have evoked the style and look of my beloved Spaghetti Westerns with this one! The village scene at the top reminds me of Los Albaricoques, Almeria, Spain (where Leone shot some of FISTFUL OF DOLLARS and a major portion of FOR A FEW DOLLARS MORE). The bottom part of the drawing is pure Spaghetti Western---crosses, a poncho flapping in the breeze. This is good stuff, hombre! Hasta luego!
—Chris, True West Maniac #946

Storm has moved through (9:40) but it’s still sprinkling and I can hear the creek roaring down the ridge. Both dogs are under the desk now. I have five paintings in progress, three of which I retrieved from my “Failure Pile.” I often start paintings, get discouraged and put them in one of the cubby holes in the morgue. I retrieved three of them yesterday and was amazed at how much potential they have (they seemed hopeless when I stored them). Added some strokes to a very loose John Wayne image and I am shocked at how strong it is. Need to stay with it. I wonder if Thomas Huxley has anything to say about that?

“Patience and tenacity of purpose are worth more than twice their weight of cleverness.”
—Thomas Huxley

September 8, 2006
Yesterday, Dave Daiss took me to lunch at Tonto Bar & Grill (he paid and wanted me to make sure I put that in the blog). Nice talking to him. He's got his house for sale here in Cave Creek. Wants to move completely to Elgin, where he and Doreen have a small ranch. Dave tells me Doreen won't even leave. Loves it down there. It is pretty, and was the setting for several movies including Red River and parts of Tombstone.

Picked up my mom and Lou at Sky Harbor last night at six. On the way out noticed that gas prices have gone down by about 50 cents since last weekend. When I left for Wichita gas was running about $2.99 a gallon, but yesterday I saw one gas station sign at $2.53.

Kathy cooked a turkey with all the trimmings, with banana cream pie, plus apple pie and ice cream. A very nice meal and evening. And of course we looked at photos of the family, including my mom's parents, and her sisters and all those in between.

Working hard on several characters for the Top Secret Project. Here's a study for one of the main dudes:




The Top Secret Writer wants him to be darker and meaner, so I have been leaning on that visage (although my natural inclination is to aim him more towards Orlando Bloom territory).

"Far from being the basis of the good society, the family, with its narrow privacy and tawdry secrets, is the source of all our discontents."
—Sir Edmund Leach

September 7, 2006
Big rain during the night. Heavy thunder and winds. I woke up at 2:30 doing my usual monthly fret-a-thon. Went out to the kitchen table to take stock of my efforts. Worried that I spend too much time on Email and the blog. Decided to tabulate just how much time I do spend. Also forced myself to write down a half-dozen things I'm doing right. If I don't do that, I can really get going on the pity potty and then I just get gridlocked. Went back to bed around four.

Got up at 6:30, took the dogs for a bike ride, took the garbage out to the end of the driveway, came back and checked Email (11 minutes, not as bad as I feared). Organized some "faces of anguish" art reference in studio. Need to get a handle on all my reference, it's scattered everywhere.

Last night I whipped out my six sketches incorporating a word I learned at Fort Apache. The word is Bi-Jashn and I'll give the translation later. Here's the sketches, including the day before:



Going into the Beast this afternoon. My mother and Lou are flying in from Cody at six and I'm picking them up at Sky Harbor. Also going by Bert Easly's to see about buying two severed heads (I'll explain later).

FYI: I spent ten minutes scanning the art and fifteen minutes writing today's blog.

"Beer makes you feel as you ought to feel without beer."
—Old Vaquero Saying

September 6, 2006
Lots of landscapes and action sequences going on in the studio. Great reference from my recent trips. Here's another photo from the crow's nest session on Monday night. As I mentioned yesterday, this is an Ed Mell painting waiting to happen:



Bob Boze Brimley?
"Maybe it is the way your shirt blouses out around your back, or maybe it is just the mustache and glasses and hat. Whatever it is, in that picture of you with the medal around your neck, you look like Wilford Brimley's illegitimate son."
—Charlie Waters

I'm also still trying to find the right color scheme for the Top Secret Project. Here's a couple action sketches from last week:



T. Charles called from Philadelphia. He's moved there from Manhattan and says he likes it. I never thought I'd have an eastcoast son, but there you go. I never thought I'd have a wife who was a therapist either, but thank God for the unexpected add ons.

"Man in every age has created woman in the image of his own desire."
—James Laver

September 5, Bonus Bonus Bonus Blog
Well, I didn't get the photo at the stop light, but I ran home, got my digital camera, scrambled up into the crow's nest, above my studio, and got this shot of the rainbow. That's Black Mountain in the background. I'll post another shot tomorrow that is an Ed Mell painting waiting to happen.



"One is easily taken in by what one loves."
—Old Vaquero Saying

September 5, 2006 Bonus Bonus Blog
See, I told you he'd show up:



"Be wiser than other people, but do not tell them so."
—Lord Chesterfield

September 5, 2006 Bonus Blog
We have a new poll up: check it out right here.

Here's another page of sketches from the Top Secret Project. As you can see I'm loosey goosey and it feels good! Pay attention to the old hispanic guy, upper left. He shows up later.



"Whatever there be of progress in life comes not through adaptation but through daring, through obeying the blind urge."
—Henry Miller

September 5, 2006
Back in the office after a long weekend. Kathy treated me to some new shirts down at Kohl's last night. Picked out five. I took her to dinner at Keg Steakhouse ($53 cash, includeds tip). On the way home, heard the flash flooding warnings on the radio. Big storm rolling in over Lone Mountain. Really a big sucker. Pulled up at a stop light at Dixielita, and the guy next to me took a photo of the rainbow with his cell phone and I thought, "Man, I want that!" And if I had one you would be looking at it right now. Soon enough—all good things in time.

The Arizona Republic ran the business piece on the magazine (True West) on Saturday. Very nice piece, but they left out Dave Daiss' name and I felt bad about that. I got a message from Wonderful Russ saying he was hurt as well, because I forgot to mention all the jokes he has told me and how much it had to have helped our financial situation. As usual Russell has a point. You can check out the article at:

azcentral.com

In meetings all morning, but got some good things accomplished. Planning for the upcoming Tombstone event and several other deals. Also met with Faith from Big Bronco next door about teaming up with several local stores for the Cave Creek Wild West Days in November.

Yesterday, I finished my 2,000th drawing without missing a day. Actually took up two pages, here's the final two drawings (2,000 and 2,001), and they are of a village called Los Muertes (and yes, the glowing crosses were inspired by Ansel Adams' famous photograph of the New Mexican village at moonrise):



"The worst walls are never the ones you find in your way. The worst walls are the ones you put there."
—Ursula K. LeGuin

September 4, 2006
Ed LeRoy and the staff at Old Cowtown Museum in Wichita treated me like royalty over the weekend. At noon on Saturday, a Concord coach carried me into the park and deposited me in front of Fritz Snitzler's Saloon. As the crowd cheered, I was taken inside and given a medal on behalf of the museum and The AFRG National Committee (I'm not making this up, see photo). The welcoming committee included, from left, Randy Edens (he played Mike Meagher in the True West Moment), Britt Sageser (he played Bat Masterson) and Bob Garrett.



I forgot to take off the medal as we began filming the big True West Moment bit on Sunday morning and didn't discover it until the master shot with the galloping horses was in the can, so I had to wear it throughout the shoot for continuity. So when you see the finished piece and your significant other wonders aloud, "Why is Boze wearing that damned medal around his neck?" you can say with some authority, "He's a forgetful goober." And then when she looks at you funny, like, "how could you possibly know that?" you add the coup de graw, "he's from Kingman." And, trust me, she'll nod knowingly.

I'm working on a milestone today as I close in on my two-thousandth sketch (six a day) without missing. It's just after lunch and I have whipped out two and plan to finish in the next hour or so. I'll post the images as soon as I can.

"Time is at once the most valuable and the most perishable of all our possessions."
—John Randolph

September 3, 2006
I spent the last 48 hours in Wichita at the Old Cowtown Museum. We (Cactus Productions and I) taped a big PSA (public service announcement) TV spot for the museum on Saturday after the day's events. It was Preston Randolph's concept and vision. I would start at the end of the street walking towards the camera. In front of me would be dozens of authentically dressed Old West characters walking to and fro, across and back (think Deadwood). At first you can't even see me because the activity on the street is so heavy, but you can hear me, and this is my pitch:

"One of the biggest issues facing the West today is this: How do we preserve our history?

"Many historic sites have already been lost, while others, like Wichita's Old Cowtown are in danger of going away. Founded in 1950 and featuring over 53 authentic buildings, including the actual jail Wyatt Earp was held in. . .we can't let that happen.

"That's why we at True West magazine have rededicated ourselves to preserving the American West. And as Ed LeRoy, my good friend and tireless proponent of Cowtown puts it, 'Pony up—and quit horsin' around.'

Visit oldcowtown.org to see how you can help save this American treasure. Act today, before it's too late."

As I say this last line, everyone on the street has disappeared and even the buildings are gone, each one vanishing (via computer magic) in the mists. What was once a bustling intersection of vital community is gone. A lone tumbleweed rolls across the barren scenery behind me. Cut to logo and website: "Pony up @ oldcowtown.org"

This morning we had three hours before we went to the airport to tape and produce a True West Moment, for the Westerns Channel and it turned out to be a very ambitious poject as well.

We summmoned all of the mounted shooters, about 25, and asked them if they could come down the street shooting a la "Comin' Through The Rye" style and they assured us that would be no problem, and they were correct, nailing the scene after one dry run. As the two dozen Kaboys yelled and rode by the camera in a swirling cloud of dust and gunsmoke I stepped in behind them and walked towards the camera saying:

"Wild and Wooley Wichita. One of the most famous cowtowns in the West. Home of Billy the Kid, Bat Masterson and Wyatt Earp, and many a Texas cowboy hot off the Chisholm Trail.

"And in Wichita there were efficent lawmen like Mike Meagher [as I say this, I am met by the city marshal, played by Randy Edins] who served five terms with only one killing. [Marshal Meagher tips his hat to me as he walks past]. The before mentioned Billy the Kid, was just a street urchin on the streets of Wichita [two kids come out of a store front and run between me and the camera, closely chased by a woman in a sun bonnet screaming, 'Henry McCarty you come back here!' [the other boy was a dead ringer for Sombrero Jack, but we didn't have time to explain that and besides, wrong town, that would be Silver City].

[As I step up on the boardwalk I am met by a gaggle of Wichita-ians] "In addition to controlling the Texas cowboys, the local lawmen had other duties as well. They shot stray dogs and collected fines from prostitutes [the lovely and sexy Janine walks by giving me a MOI? look], they inspected the safety of chimneys and repaired the local sidewalks [Bat Masterson is kneeling on the boardwalk pounding in nails as another two women walk by and pull up the hems of their dresses], so that the ladies would not catch their hems on stray nails.

"Wichita policeman Wyatt Earp got in a fist fight with a political rival [Wyatt and another man come out of the bank building with their hands up, a la Queensbury style, and exchange threats, but I keep walking] and Wyatt ended up right over here.

"This is the actual jail Wyatt Earp was thrown in and it is here at Old Cowtown Museum in Wichita, Kansas.

"Yes, the Texas Cowboys were lawless and rowdy and sometimes had to be put in this calaboose, but it's kind of nice to know that sometimes, so did Kansas lawmen.

"I'm Bob Boze Bell and this has been a True West Moment."

Rob B. and I flew out at three. Got home to big clouds and high winds and a big ol' rattlesnake by the front door. Got my trusty Steinegger Rattlesnake Grabber out of the garage, hooked that sucker around the neck (he lunged at me and went right in the wire loop). Carried his wriggling body out past Buddy and Kathy who were doing the poolside watusi and dropped the critter over the fence.

Tired. Going to bed.

"The fact that a snake wags it's tail at you doesn't mean it wants to be petted."
—Old Vaquero Saying

September 1, 2006
Man, where'd the summer go? Already September, time to go back to school. It's funny, I've been out of school for forty years but come September I always get that blast of "this year is going to be different. I'm going to have bitchin' clothes, and talk to all the pretty girls, and, oh yeh, really study." Never fails.

Forever Kidding, Forever Kidded
As for yesterday's Historical Twins postings, here a take on it: "Except for the eyes, I vote for the Linkletter link . . . he said, 'kids say the darnedest things' and BBB will always be a kid."
—Charlie Waters

When actor Peter Brown came in two days ago he left a publicity photo and signed it for the True West crew. Here it is. Peter is second from the left, next to "Sugarfoot." His co-star was John Russell, the handsome dude on the far right. Yes, that's James Garner third from right. These are all the Warner Brothers' Western stars at that time. Hard to believe there were that many Westerns on at one time, no? And that was when I went to school in September. Ha.



The Top Secret Project
Still working hard on finding an appropriate medium and color scheme for the Top Secret Project. Here's a duotone type page of sketches I did last night. Yes, that's Alchesay at the bottom, and those are Yavapai Apache girls at the top with facial tattoos. This is from a rare photo that Dale Miles (the San Carlos Apache historian) lent me. Thanks Dale!



Leaving at four to go catch a plane to Wichita. Next posting will be from Old Cowtown. "They are fighting a lonely battle there to save Old Cowtown ..."

Lodge Logs In
"Don't know the story but it sounds like someone wants to destroy history in the name of progress (an American pastime). I wish I was going with you. Good luck."
—Steve Lodge

Hey, we need a battle cry. I had lunch with Bethany Braley yesterday and she suggested we come up with something catchy like "Circle the Wagons!" or "Got Milk?" something punchy, that would go on shirts and posters. Let me know if anything hits you.

"Knowledge is a process of piling up facts; wisdom lies in their simplification."
—Martin Fischer

August 31, 2006 Bonus Blog
I just got word that The Top Secret Writer has just been bestowed with a new title: The University of New
Mexico has named Paul Hutton to the rank of "Distinguished Professor." (See today's Old Vaquero Saying for clarification)

When It Rains It Pours Department
Both Gus Walker, The Mapinator, and Mike Pellegatti, The Videoshooter, recently sent me Historical Twins based on my visage. Here's the first one from Mike:




The photo is from The Great Train Robbery and depicts an outlaw shooting at the screen at the end of the movie (allegedly the first "Western" to tell a story), and supposedly movie patrons ran for the exits when he fired his shot, without sound of course.

The second one is not as flattering, vanity wise, but dammit, Gus, it's pretty darn close. Or should that be too close for comfort?



"Youth and restlessness will never beat age and ruthlessness."
—Old Vaquero Saying

August 31, 2006
Cooler in the mornings and we still have cloud buildups in the afternoon but it's not quite as dramatic as last week.

Finished Classic Gunfights and my editorial yesterday. "Buff" McElroy scanned and laid out Honkytonk Sue and Robert Ray tweaked the Luke Short gunfight.

Here's a closer view of The Top Secret Writer, again in front of Crook's cabin at Fort Apache. His given name is Paul Andrew Hutton and he is a professor of history at the University of New Mexico.



Stayed late after work last night and sketched off of Kingdom of Heaven DVD, right off my computer, utilzing stop action. I like Orlando Bloom's look in the film and am attempting to adapt it to a character in the Top Secret Project (sorry, still not revealing it until we get closer). This morning, I printed out a slew of images from the trip. My Epson printer is acting up and printing lines on the images but it's for art reference so I can live with it.

Going by JD's after work to see about building a new chickenhouse. He's got a state of the art job.

Leaving tomorrow for Wichita. They are fighting a lonely battle there to save Old Cowtown (a reporter for the Wichita paper called again yesterday to interview me) and Rob B. and I are going to do our best to help them. My good friends Steve and Preston Randolph from Cody, Wyoming are driving down to help us video some PSAs for the effort.

"No one ever approaches perfection except by stealth, and unknown to themselves."
—William Hazlitt

August 30, 2006
Katherine, a photographer from The Arizona Republic, came at 9:30 and took a photo of Bob and Trish Brink and myself for a business piece that will run on Labor Day (fitting, no?).

Peter Brown, the actor who starred in Lawman and Laredo, not to mention Days of Our Lives, The Young And Restless (he had a 15 year career in Soaps), came by the offices at ten and met with Bob Brink and I about a TV show he'd like to develope with us. Very good ideas and he has solid connections.

One more clue on The Top Secret Writer:

• The Top Secret Writer is still mad at Mexico for something that happened in 1836. In fact when we were in Bisbee, I suggested we go to Naco for dinner, but he wouldn't even consider it.

Here's his photo, taken at Fort Apache last Saturday. That's General Crook's headquarters behind him and he was thrilled to see it and have his picture taken in front of it. If you still can't place him, he's on the History Channel, Discovery and the Learning Channel all the time as a talking head. Name tomorrow.



Failing to Succeed
Finished a postcard image for our Top Ten Towns issue this morning. It was my sixth attempt. It's still not quite right, but we are on deadline and Trish is on me to finish it. I really need to fail more, or put another way, I need to attempt more and keep going. I read somewhere that Maynard Dixon would do some 85 pen and inks of Indians until he got it the way he wanted (and mostly he was taking things out, not adding detail). The same with Monet. A book I have describes him painting the same scene dozens of time until he got it. In that light, six times doesn't seem so bad (in fact it sounds like a Piker) . So I need to fail more to succeed.



"We can learn nothing except by going from the known to the unknown."
—Claude Bernard

August 29, 2006
Working diligently on sketches trying to build on last weekend's trip to Apacheland. Here's a sketch I did last night incorporating the view from a mesa up above the San Carlos Agency.



The rider seems to have two bags tied on the back of his saddle. Gee, I wonder what's in them? Yes, that's Mount Turnbull in the background. Next up, we have an actual photo of me sketching this scene on location (taken by the Top Secret Writer). Here it is:



And speaking of the Top Secret Writer several of you have guessed who he is. Gus Walker, the Mapinator, told me it was the "beer and the chicharrones" that gave him away. Steve Lodge said it was the distance from Hon-dah that clued him in to the real guy. For the rest of you here are several more clues that should give him away:

• The Top Secret Writer has won four Spur Awards.

• The Top Secret Writer has won the hearts of four women (and lost three of them).

• The Top Secret Writer has written probably the most eloquent paragraph on Billy the Kid ever, which is: "Billy the Kid keeps riding across the dreamscape of our minds—silhouetted against a starlit Western sky, handsome, laughing, deadly. Shrewd as the coyote. Free as the hawk. The outlaw of our dreams—forever free, forever young, forever riding." (hint: this quote and the author's name are on page 191 of my Billy book).

• The Top Secret Writer plays a doctor in the movie Naked Gun 33 1/3 and delivers O.J.'s baby.

• The Top Secret Writer is actually a doctor of history.

I'll post a photograph of the Top Secret Writer tomorrow.

"Great things are done when men and mountains meet."
—William Blake

August 28, 2006
Back in the office, churning and burning to catch up to the boat that's about to leave the harbor. Uploaded all 126 images from my Kodak Easyshare DX 4330 camera onto my laptop. Some of them are short video snippets (it's an amazing little booger). Lots of magic hour shots which I took right out the window of the Top Secret Writer's car on the way back to Hon-dah from San Carlos. If I can get one of these boogers into Photoshop I'll post it right here.



Meade, Indeed!
Remember our friends at the Lakeside Hotel in Meade, Kansas? (see June 2-3 posts). Well, they are about to throw in the towel. Their son, Anthony, came back from California with a flag which some narrowheads have interpreted as being a Gay Pride flag. The parents flew the flag from the hotel anyway. Then it hit the press and you know that Wackjob guy in Kansas who goes to military funerals and uses a bullhorn to tell the parents he's glad their son is dead? And, in terms of tolerance, he puts to shame anything on in the Middle East. Well, he's going to start harrassing our Meade friends. Meanwhile, the son is staying in California (with JR’s parents) after being harassed the last day of school, when the city attorney’s son stuck asbestos down his shirt. The flag situation certainly made it worse and JR and Robin afraid for him if he were to return to Meade. JR and Robin have had enough and have put the hotel up for sale, with the intention of returning to California.

In 1989 I thought I knew Billy the Kid, until my mother sent me "The Saga of Billy the Kid" by Walter Noble Burns. Last Thursday I thought I knew Frederick Sackrider Remington until the Top Secret Writer brought his Remington book collection to the Hon-dah Casino Resort just outside Pinetop. I didn't realize how short his career was (some 20 years). He died very young, at 48. He also had a nasty side (think Mel Gibson) which I was not aware of either. But more than all of that, I never had any idea of how much art and writing he actually produced. As The Top Secret Writer commented, "He practically has storyboarded our entire project." Too true for school Secret Man. And speaking of which, if I can get the above photo into Photoshop, I'll post a photo of the Top Secret Writer for you to see in the next couple of days.

"Experience is a good teacher but she sends in terrific bills."
—Minna Antrim

August 27, 2006
Back from the rim. Took off at 11, drove 198.6 miles, got back to Cave Creek at three. Tried to inventory my digital photo shots but the softwear won't load (or rather the computer won't recognize the camera). Hate this kind of stuff. I've got both video and still images of a whole bunch of great scenes we shot up at Fort Apache and San Carlos.

Ran into an Apache historian at the Hon-dah Resort this morning. Mr. Duncan is part of the Yellowbird Dancers, and they just got back from Eastern Europe where the State Department sent them for good will (he laughed and said "Apaches are the only Amerians who still go over big in that part of the world. They loved us.") He also said that over there they think every American Indian is an Apache. And Geronimo is the big Dog. Evidently this didn't sit too well with the Lakota on the tour. Ha.

The White Mountain Apache Casino Hon-dah was our Top Secret Location for this rendezvous and it was a great one. The hotel is beautiful and centrally located in the cool pines. The Top Secret Writer was totally shocked at how beautiful and large the Apache Reservation is. We have been sold so many images of how awful San Carlos was and how we gave the Apaches dreadful land, but when you see it in person, it's another deal altogether. Here's another shocker: for all their worldwide fame at being such daring and bold raiders, most Apaches are painfully shy. One of our Apache models brought her little sister and she was so shy she couldn't, or wouldn't, talk. I tried to trick her and cajole her into talking (I even paid her $20 to be a Key Grip) but couldn't get her to utter a word. The Top Secret Writer managed to get her to say two words (which was quite amazing in itself). One of the words was "Fifth," as in, "What grade are you in?"

Here's a photo from our session at Fort Apache. This is of Lisa Bahen and in the background is Levi Miles, both Apaches and great models. A stunning beauty, no?



Thanks to Pastor Guenther we learned many Apache customs and words. He was a total joy, and everywhere we went he was recieved with respect and open arms. When we went to the museum at Fort Apache, they charged all of us, but he got in free. Ha. As it should be. Between him and his late father they have served the Apache tribe for over a century. Somone really needs to get up there and video tape him, because when he goes, it's gone.

I've got a very busy week ahead, with an issue going out the door on Thursday, then Rob B. and I are flying to Old Cowtown Museum in Wichita on Friday for a big shindig and pow-wow on how to save the place. I've asked my friends, Steve and Preston Randolph, up in Cody, to drive down and tape some PSAs, plus some video for other projects utilizing the great buildings and streets Old Cowtown has. Should be a great time in Old Cowtown, but first, an issue to get out.

"One of the things that seems to arrive almost before you get started is the bridge you were going to cross when you got to it."
—Old Vaquero Saying

August 26, 2006
Woke up at three. Drunk Apaches in the next room, really having a great time. Decided to get up and read, "Frederick Remington: A Catalogue Raisonee, Volume I". Very inspiring. Thought I knew Remington but I guess I didn't. A relatively short career (twenty years, he died at 48), but prolific output. Plus, he traveled extensively in this part of the world, as early as 1886. Much insight into San Carlos, etc.

Drove down to Fort Apache at 9:30. Stopped in White River to look at Rev. Guenther's Lutheran Church. The same one where Alchesay walked into in 1922 and gave his blessing to. To think that The Top Secret Writer and I shook the hand of the man who shook the hand of Alchesay (he's in a famous photo with General Crook on his mule at Fort Bowie). Here's a photo of myself with Pastor Guenther and his daughter Cindy in front of the parrish home at White River.




Shot five rolls of film and another fifty shots off my digital. Then The Top Secret Writer and I drove to San Carlos to get the full effect of the two Apache Reservations and just how far apart they are, and how different. It was quite hot down on the Gila, but we got goo reference and good inspiration. Wrote a number of scenes, just viewing the real deal. That was worth the trip all by itself. "When you see it in person, you get it," The Top Secret Writer said, and I agreed.

Got back up on the rim at 7:30 and had dinner in a certain Apache casino. Wrote for another hour and then called it a night. A very successful trip. Going back to Cave Creek in the morning. The Top Secret Writer is going east, several hundred miles. We work well together. We often disagree, but when we agree it is pretty productive.

"If two men agree on everything, one of them is unnecessary."
—Old Vaquero Saying