In the summer of 1982, the Denver Art Museum put out a cartoon like sculpture by the artist Red Grooms. It was a rather large piece depicting a covered wagon with a protruding cowboy arm shooting a revolver with bullets shooting out suspended in the air. Opposite the cowboy arm was an Indian arm shooting with a bow and arrows at the cowboy. It was cute, funny, cartoony and clever. It was also offensive. At least to the Native American community. Demonstrations and compl

I have waited a long time to tell this story. It began over thirty years ago and after all this time I wonder if all this really happened? Have I forgotten more than I remember? Let's see what I remember. It was November 1969 when we arrived in Chicago from Laramie on our way to Boston. We were on our way to fulfill a conscientious objector obligation. Let me explain. Jimmy R. the owner and driver of the blue Dodge van that we were in, was a coward. He was terrified th

I don't remember the exact date, but it was in the second week in January 1979. It was cold and I was broke and depressed. Very depressed. In fact suicidal. I had been out of work for months and three months overdue on my rent. I hadn't sold a painting in weeks. Like I said I even contemplated suicide. But believe it or not, I put it aside because of Ernie. Ernie G. was my landlord. I lived in a duplex on 38th Ave in North Denver which was owned by Ernie. Ernie is one of the

Sometime ago, I had a dream where two friends and I drove to Ames Monument east of Laramie about twenty-five miles. Those two friends were Ken Chavez and David Lang. Why? I think my sub-conscience picked them as they were the two people I had ongoing metaphysical dialogue with. The reason (in the dream) we'd come out to the monument was to hold a meditative session inside it. Why? Because Ames Monument is a pyramid and it was supposed to be aligned to the same mathematic

It was May 1970. The exact day I don't remember. I lived in a little dilapidated house across the street from the railroad tracks on 1st Street in Laramie Wyoming. My friend Ray R. was visiting me. He had some good smoke so we sat rapping and getting high. As dusk approached Ray went home and I went out for a walk. As usual I was locked into some philosophical dialogue in my head. I was contemplating the concept of love. It was toward the end of the month, and although spring

I had a Hollywood production dream. A movie dream. When the “movie” began it opened visually with a book. A golden book with encrusted jewels and a picture on the cover showing a big white windowless ship floating on a red sea. Above the picture were the letters in large black caps G.O.D. Under these letters in smaller black lettering was PRODUCTIONS PRESENT. Under the picture of the boat were the words in large black stylized letters AXIOM DEFLECTION. Then a hand appeared li