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To be or not to be- Censorship and the end of freedom in America

Updated: Jan 14, 2021

Sometimes God has a way of speaking in such poetry, such grace and such point blank humor that I can’t help but laugh and revel in the moment before moving to do what has been so graciously asked of me. Last night is a perfect example of this. Times are tumultuous… since my grand meeting of like minded people on the lawn of the Capitol January 6th, much has happened and continues on through this day. The news is not reporting the truth. I am a first hand witness to it this time. What I saw and what is being reported are exact opposites. The slow roll to what once happened in history- Nazi Germany is beginning to unfold before our very eyes. People are calling for the arrests of innocent people for simply believing differently than they do.

Given the amount of propaganda being vomited through the public orfices, I fully understand where this is coming from. The underlying truth that has been going on for only God knows how long is even worse has yet to be revealed on a massive level. I began my journey years ago, and I remember the denial, the jaw dropping news that I couldn’t believe myself. The horrible things that people were doing behind the scenes for money and power disgusted me so much I wanted to do SOMETHING. I couldn’t explain what was happening to me to the agencies I was with. But deep down I know that my art had to become a tool of a history that we mustn’t repeat. I could no longer paint pretty pictures of what people wanted, ignoring this underlying truth that had to be brought to the surface and understood. Painting what was there in my heart wasn’t pretty but it was imperative on my walk. So, I quit the lime life. The beautiful world of traveling on ships and meeting and greeting people in galleries and shows all over the world. The influence there was to paint for the glory of the cash flow coming in- paint what would sell. And although I knew I may not sell much at all, may even starve for a while- the world could not be left without the information that I gained.

So here I am- painting filled toilets and buffalo scenes of monsters in the clouds, native dancers with backgrounds of wars, pestilence and child sacrifice. At least I will go out knowing I gave it my best shot- and had no intention of going after the money. I don’t blame the artists that stuck to their jobs- they may not have seen what I have, witnessed the victims of child sacrifice and satanic worship going on in Hollywood and in the highest offices of our governments worldwide. I did. I called and talked to a few. I found out for myself whether the worst nightmare of our existence was going on behind our backs and below our feet. Regretfully, IT IS.

So to this day- and beyond, I am committed to save this Republic and this world through the grace of art.

The story of just one night can be highly impactful- Lat night’s small adventure has me on the edge of my seat to get a video out there. I don’t know if it will ever put a drop of ripple on this great pond of sound that we exist in, but if just one person hears me- I know that it’s been worth my breath. There is no exciting drama, but a great birthing of courage to carry on against my own odds was given to me in small miracle form.

I was standing on the front porch of our condominium, talking on the phone last night when a lady called out in distress across the street. Her dog was happily making his way down the sidewalk and paying no attention to her cries. I hung up with my phone call and ran to help her. After cutting the dog off at an intersection she caught up and thanked me- explaining that she had been drinking. She asked for some help to get her and her dog home- she must have been in a bit of a dizzy state. I am no angel in that department- have had my own slips during this tumultuous time and so wasted no time in using my coat strap for a leash and my arm as her walker. She was sweet and strong with her words. She immediately offered her political stance to me without any questions from my corner, “I’m a DEMOCRAT” erupted from her mouth and sent ashes over my being like Mount St. Helens had awakened from her slumber. I said nothing, but smiled nervously in response. I had learned my lesson from the posts on Facebook and the friends who’d brought me to tears with their loud opinionated views, and I could only imagine her horror at what I was painting in the confines of my room across the street. Another misunderstood piece of art was not a conversation that I wanted to enter into. Propaganda works, I thought to myself so silently. As we walked she told me that she and her husband were retired teachers. I smiled big and expressed my gratitude for this position in life- it is one of great influence on our children- our leaders of tomorrow. We entered the elevator and she asked me if I lived here full time. There are a lot of seasonal renters here. I let her know that I would like to be a full time resident, but that I had a temporary home for now. She offered me some information about a friend who rents apartments year round right here on the beach. My heart quickened because I was excited to have run into someone willing to help me. I told her I was an artist at that point and that I was excited to live here with so many people coming to such a small area of the world each year. My art could have such a great impact, I thought to myself, and then maybe I could sell some as well. She asked me what I painted. Avoiding the conflict of telling her EXATLY what that was, I said I made mostly portraits, but enjoyed all forms of art. As we made our way to her door she excitedly announced her involvement in the local art league! Almost within the same sentence, she proceeded to remind of her political stance- at which point I smiled and said, “That’s ok, I don’t let differences get in my way.” She smiled, and invited me in, but I knew I needed to get home with my girls, because they would be wondering where I was… the phone was starting to ring in my pocket.

Walking away, I looked up to the sky and laughed- Thanks, God… what a way you have in letting me know that my courage mustn’t falter. We are on the very edge of becoming a part either a bigger picture or a small tied up and bound slave system that disembodies the very fibers that allow truth to be seen and understood. We can either take the time to understand our differences and love them, nurture them and bring them all into a greater respect for each other, or we can do wat some are calling for and shut the mouths of those who wish to speak. Censorship is no longer a soft issue- it has become a make it or break it in a land we once called free.

America please wake up- our world around us is crumbling- she needs us. WE THE PEOPLE must stand with courage, grace and understanding of what has truly happened to our Nations and our World. Without this- we have lost the very free will that God has given us to allow the creative spark within to flourish and make the very best for ourselves and our generations to come.

I’ll continue to fast, to pray, to paint, and hold my heart true. Inside, I know who I am and love that artist I have become. With this passion, I plan to make the best of fulfilling a destiny of bringing greatness to our world. I hope so many will join me.

My very best wishes to all- no matter who or what you associate yourself with- we are all human.

The pictures posted are paintings in the works for the most part. Bully- is finished and sold, Yellow Jacket is finished- not sold yet, and the Red and Blue Kachina's are stuck in Washington state until I can open a studio again. And the infamous Flush the swamp is still being worked on as well. The drawing I sent to President Trump. That was the original idea, before I made the sign and went to DC. I will continue to try to upload a closer shot- but for now it's taken 3 hours and still will not upload. ;-)


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