after eliot ness died
leaving his third wife and first
and only adopted son his co-written book
was published and sold a million
and a half copies and robert stack
portrayed him starting in 1959
with walter winchell doing rapid-fire
narration.
the death of eliot ness by heart attack at 54
did not leave the net love felt and expressed
by humanity
appreciably diminished.
the same goes for the net anger
and hatred.
Jimmie the Dog and Jessica the Woman were the best of companions. Alas, Jimmie crossed the Rainbow Bridge, as they say, leaving Jessica bereft. A short time later Jessica, a stellar poet and my friend for more than twelve years, asked me if I did commissioned artwork, and provided me with some photos of her and Jimmie. I told her it would be an honor to try.
Then about a year and a half went by. I kept making attempts and falling on my face. Every so often I’d let Jessica know I hadn’t forgotten and was still trying.
Today I was able to send her the image of my final draft. She stuck a Love emoji on my image and is graciously allowing me to share it with my One with Clay readers/viewers.
Here are the words:
Jimmie & Jessie
Jaunty as a Rock & Roll DJ
Innocent & cuddly as can be
Melting hearts & icecream cones some days
Making bliss & breezes in the trees
In the noise & haste & stale ennui
Every Dog & Woman ought be FREE
What sometimes happens when I take on a project like this is I care about it so much that I choke. I overwork the drawing, I overjudge the work in progress, and then I get overwhelmed, tear up my effort, and start over. My advice to anyone who goes through that themselves is Relax, walk around the block, slow down and stop worrying about a result you haven’t got yet. Today I put my worries aside and knew that my heart was in the effort, and trusted the result would reveal the heart. At minimum anyone who sees this page will know that two of Earth’s creatures loved each other deeply.
I received a real keeper of a holiday card today, which features this artwork from my dear deceased friend Beth Lindberg. It was sent by Beth’s widower Todd. Inside is a message of hope, cheer and remembrance, and includes the fun fact that Todd checks in with me from time to time via my blog, which is this thing you are visiting right this second. There have been tough losses nowadays. What sees us through is the loving, persistent spirit that we share with each other. Todd, my friend, thank you for the love you have for Beth and which you dispense to your friends. I’m honored to be among them.
A long time ago, in a neighborhood far, far away, my parents Jane and Harold Bowers entertained friends at their house on Pasadena Avenue in Glendale, Arizona. Two of them were known to me as Connie and Chuck (or Connie and Charles, as some had it). (There were also Hank and Eileen, Tom & Marlene, Mae & Bill, and any number of others.) In the really early 80s my parents were divorced, and a natural consequence was that some long-term friendships fell by the wayside.
Be that as it may, Connie Wetzel and my mother Jane Bowers Stoneman had a deep, abiding love for each other. This was brought to my astonished attention when, a bit over a week ago, I opened one of those “hey, someone wants to communicate with you” messages on Facebook Messenger that are usually some kind of scam. But this one was no scam. With the gracious permission of Connie’s son Dan, who sent me the message, here is the message and the exchange that followed:
December 9, 2021
10:05 pm
Dan Wetzel
Hello Gary. This is Dan Wetzel. My Parents are Chuck and Connie Wetzel. Your Mom was one of the first friends my mom met here in Phoenix. My Mom has been thinking about your Mom. She remembered your name too so I looked you up here.
December 16, 2021
10:14 pm
You sent
Hi, Dan. I am sorry to say that my Mom, Jane Bowers Stoneman, passed a little over a year ago. Please tell Connie that Mom loved her with all her heart.
I remember how glad my parents were to have your folks over. And though it’s been a half a century or so, I still remember Connie’s message on the back of a paper Bingo card:
Money’s tight
And times’re hard
So this is this year’s
Christmas card.
Mom put it on the Christmas tree, she loved it so much.
Thanks for reaching out, Dan. Please give your Mom my best regards.
Take care,
Gary
10:51 pm
Dan Wetzel
I’m sorry to hear about your Mom Gary. My Mom loved Jane as well. I was young but do remember her. I will tell my Mom. Thanks Gary for getting back to me. It will touch Moms heart when I share this memory (the bingo card) with her.
Take care
Dan
10:52 pm
You sent
Thanks, Dan.
And then this morning Dan sent a pic of a letter Mom had written to Connie, with this note:
December 22, 2021
10:10 am
Dan Wetzel
Your Mom gave this to my Mom for her birthday. My Mom and Your Aunt Peggy (your mom’s aunt) shared a birthday
Mom’s note was hard to read, so I photoedited it. As best I can transcribe, here is what it says:
11/24/1980
Monday
This piece of collectible, signed, Lalique glassware was my Sixth most meaningful material possession.
At one time it belonged to Aunt Peg, whose birthday you share.
It is my wish, NOW, that it belong to my dear, beautiful, Regal Connie/Concepcion.
With Love,
Jane
PS this feather and this wrapped box are so you will remember how much you are loved. Destroy any of it, the love will remain. Please examine them closely at your leisure.
And bless his sweet, Loving Son’s Heart, Dan Wetzel demonstrates to me, just a bit after the one-year anniversary of my mother’s passing, that the love DOES remain between Mom and her dear friend Connie. As Dylan Thomas wrote, “Though lovers be lost, love shall not.”
Best wishes for this Holiday season, Friends. You are loved.
Know This
Keepsakes are not vainly kept
Nothingness has zero depth
Out of Love came You and I
With Caresses meeting Sighs
This image and double-acrostic quatrain is from a remembrance of my favorite book, The Bridge of San Luis Rey by Thornton Wilder. The way I read Bridge, Wilder presented five different kinds of human love as an argument that the Universe did in fact make sense. I try to conduct my life as if that were true.
Today I learned that, as sent red roses signify Passion, and yellow roses Friendship, sent begonias are a way of saying “Be cautious,” and that plus empathy means “Stay Safe,” which is a mild way of saying “I love you and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” For this special, dire time, it makes sense to send begonias to loved ones.
Have some Begonias, Friends. ❤
A heartful, heartful Happy Valentine’s Day to you, Friends and Lovers. ❤
My friend from midstate California, Bob Kabchef, grows things like pomegranates and walnuts and tomatoes, and every so often he shares his harvests with some of his friends. Yesterday a heavy box packed and shipped by him landed in the “parcel locker” of my apartment complex. I have since divested two pomegranates of their seeds, putting some of them in my morning oatmeal. Here’s a photo of the remaining seeds, with a little pom atop them for contrast and scale:
My late, much-missed friend Karen Wilkinson often hosted musical evenings for our living-foom band The Snot Dogs. Usually the evening included pizza from locally heroic Spanato’s, plus a salad of Karen’s own making which included pomegranate seeds–the ingredient that made the salad extra-special. So this morning I called fellow band member Martin Klass (about whom more in my blog posts “Foom-Bozzle-Wozzle” et sequelae) and told him I’d gotten some pomegranates; would he like one?
“I would love one,” he said. “You know, because of Miss Karen.”
I knew. So tomorrow I’ll deliver him one. And I’ll also ask our piano player Katie Wood, who loved Karen as well.
Friendship and Love are transmitted many ways, Friends.
inventor y
climb. drop. Look. Be a rat in a maze. Fly yourself a kite. Send some Love out. Meditate on a Mountaintop. heart. heart. heartheart. Heart. heart. heart. heart. HEART. Heart. hear
This is not so much Gun Control advocative as it is Maniacal Behavior Control advocative, with a tip of the hat to Love, Sweet Love.
One with Clay, Image and Text 