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NEW WORKS
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We are born of fire. We may die of fire. There are few things which can immediately be seen at a glance as both friend and foe. This print captures the undeniable mystique of fire.
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It may take many battles, but a military war eventually ends. The Fire & Rescue war is a war without end. Our mission largely entails turmoil which is the result of natural forces. There’s no reasoning with lightning strike firestorms or the resulting mudslides. Diplomacy will not curtail earthquakes, floods, volcanoes, tsunamis or dust storms.
Whatever the future holds, we can rest assured that the footfalls we hear coming toward us as we huddle in the dust of any disaster are those from the boots of the men and women of Fire & Rescue coming to our aid as they emerge from the “Fog of War".
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When I hear 'Santa Ana' I think of the 2003 fire season and the backbreaking efforts of an army of firefighters. This is dedicated to the CDF and all of the thousands who joined that Herculean effort.
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The artist's statements that I provide with each of my works usually offer a bit of explanation, if not insight. In that regard, this piece stands alone. I simply started drawing one day with no direction, no plan, no motive, no kidding. At first, it was just the fireman and the fire. Basic. When I added the door, a building came into being, and before long it morphed into a bar. There is no story behind it. I don't know a Smokey Joe. The only remotely connected particle is the "est. 1923" on the lower part of the sagging sign. My father was born on July 23rd of that year. And that's about all there is to say about that...
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With rare exceptions, most structure fires are handled within a few hours, tops. It’s tough for me to imagine being on a wildland fire after 17 days, with no end in sight. I tried to capture some of that vastness in this painting. It is dedicated to the men and women who take on those rolling seas and virtual headwalls of fire year after year, whenever the call comes. They are relentless in their attack, from the crack of dawn through the heat of the day. While most of us are eating dinner and retiring for the evening, their battle continues. When the quiet of the night enfolds us and we rest for the next day, that army marches on even though it’s long, long “After Midnight”.
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As an auto mechanic, Dad brought home a hard-earned wage while Mom made sure that it fed, clothed, and schooled five children. On January 18th, 1982, Dad pinned a badge on the eldest, beginning my career that is now in its third decade. Although the frontpiece of the helmet is actually the insignia for the 101st Airborne’s Screaming Eagles, this painting is dedicated to both of my parents who understood, lived by, and passed on the fact that the truest path is simply to follow your heart and along the way to treat others as you would be treated. Even if at times, it may be... TOUGHER THAN HELL!
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While we mourn the loss of our fellow citizens and empathize with the families and even share the anguish for civilians who suffer in the collateral areas of conflict, we must recognize the difference between those who step up and those who are circumstantially caught in a crossfire. For my part, without hesitation, I believe that the members of our fire, military, rescue, police, EMS, and any other mitigating first responder agencies qualify resoundingly as the former.
Those who dedicate themselves to such professions do so with the full knowledge that the very nature of the mission may require the last full measure of devotion, and yet they step up. These then, are the “all givers”. They are the men and women whom I have depicted in my painting, and the souls to whom I dedicate “Some Gave All”.
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November 1, 1989 - A disaster was averted. My crew and many other first responders, as well as several commercial tanker drivers and civilian employees of the Haycock Petroleum Distributing facility, and just about anyone within a half-mile east and south of Bonanza & I-15, including the tens of thousands of tourists and casino workers in the dense Casino Center area of downtown Vegas, dodged what could have been a spectacular disaster resulting from what we experienced as a Thunderball - a gasoline tanker had exploded...
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To experience the truth of the eternal Godhead, one must have the serenity to see the beauty of the Earth and Sea and Sky, the courage to enter the Belly of the Beast, and the wisdom know that it takes both, Beauty and the Beast, to comprise the gift of life.
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Not all kids dream of being firefighters, of course, and not all firefighters as kids dreamed of doing this job. But once settled into it, not many would argue the fact that it is a dream come true. I’ve said it myself many times. Each day I come to work, check out my gear, put it on the rig and get ready for the day. Many times I’ll catch a glance from another firefighter starting the shift, and there is a knowingness in the exchange between us. Undeniably, we are livin’ the dream.
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Kids Dreamin' the Life
It’s always a hoot when one of the guys has their family stop by for a howdy and the obligatory ''wearin' o' the gear''. We hand out loads of those red kiddie helmets at fairs, station tours, and when we are out on inspections. I can’t help but wonder sometimes, how many of those kids will someday experience the real world of firefighting...
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