Hello, LOVE NEEDS no batteries.

Folks, there are 13 albums... over 400 paintings available in print form... to inquire about these, first scroll down and find a few of my samples, then e-mail me...and you'll possibly have a collector's item sooon... not available anywhere but here...

the following is copyright T.K.S. 2k5

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Love Needs no batteries.

(the following is one of the many replies I have gotten from past associates) who are getting supercharged that I am still here delivering content... in reality, it is as much a tribute to these friendships, forged through fire shared in the heat of archtypical journeys, and our shared goals that I even continue with my own art, music, and teevee shows... or post this blog. Get ready, cause... We have albums yet to mix, folks!!!

There have been so many unigue brilliant minds, hearts, true and courageous... all found beating through long road trips, stage shows, productions... shared dreams transformed to dancing joy right in front of us... You don't have to be famous to know you hit the mark right on target in ways an arena performance could never satisfy.

In my life up till now, each genius acquaintance new to me was a challenge to work with, as was I. but we delivered the quality, and over the years, through passionate battles that forged content truer... we paid the price. There are films yet to edit of the documented parts... for other settings, there are master tapes to mix and still tracks to record, albums yet to complete. Luckily, I did my journalistic responsibility documenting each stage enough LONG BEFORE MTV real world. The phone still rings with satisfaction, every so often when past collaborators thank me for the part I played in our shared journey... crazy as it may seem, most of us still haven't released our fully finished product. We were too busy BEING IT... It's fun to hear from them, and to discuss where we have been together, but I am still here, "on point", re-shaping and re-releasing the "best of the best of the best"... and my whole driving force is on where we still can go.

This Blog is not about bragging or exagerating... it's about honoring. This whole e-mail/Blog edition is dedicated to key collaborators who have contacted me, after I sent this Blog link attachment in a hello e-mail ... The ring of response, from those warrior geniuses has been translated symbolically into this edition of the on-line ToeKnee show. The purpose of re-connecting publicly on-line, is first and foremost to inspire YOU TO DO YOUR PASSION/BEAUTY/Potential .

It's my belief that, if the people of this world express their unique potential, grow towards that, then our shared world will be awash in sparkle. It's time to stand up and let yourself be counted, bring your potential, beauty, vision, to the table... we need it.. What point of expression are you? What explorations are growing you? Why not create a blog, send some feedback through this oneand your link and re-direct the traffic. Try to pony up constructive feedback, bring your content and share it... or just immerse yourself in watching me re-organize from the thousands of recordings, drawings, shared goals, ideas and fruitions displayed here, step by step......

To tell you the truth, there have been times I envied some of my past creative collaborators' abilities to keep their families together, and to suck in their guts and do whatever it takes to keep the food on the table. At the same time I was also incouraged and inspired to see them make those sacrifices. over the years, I realize they had a similar view of the path I took. The grass is always greener. Ultimately, we learn from each other, especeially when we share the expereince of each other's paths by proxoy over the story telling fisre, toasting our successes like battles won... telling the stories for the entertainment value, forgetting the sheer terror of the scariest parts most real, because we'd managed to grab the part worth saving out of the JAWS of the DRAGON one more time.

My hands were pried away from my own precious family, before I could change my mind too much... I guess I still have some destiny in those territories, because I still weep for what I lost. But the heart, the art, the vision deepened, these were the prices I had to pay for the prizes I am still in process of winning.

Sometimes it seems that I must have prayed too many prayers to make a big, big difference out here in La La Land... yet, no matter how hard I tried, or the good I saw coming out of the projects, I never felt like I had done enough.

I am reviewing my calculations on that prmeise of what is enough... how mcu of your art could you ever do, and know you'd done enough?

This Blog is re-framing past achievements in a way similar to a full retrospective art exhibit. When I plan my future shows, they will all include multi-media, performance art and music, most people will expect paintings only, but my art, long ago broke free of the molds.

So, the following e-mail philosophical diatribe is a portion of my processing of reframing these goals as I meet the requirements of this Blog head-on. Each installment changes me by writing it. byt the time I finish the blog segment, I am transformed by the process, if I do my job, and the words no longer describe, since I am new again.

The vision refined.

Keep this in mind, and consider what it may be like for you to embrace your inner heart's facets, and explore your own accomplishments, embracing your tribe in similar ways.

Perhaps we can collaborate... let me know.

............

Though I tried to put family ahead of my art/spiritual process, I could not be my mom and dad... My task, from the position I felt born into, the city, the town, the capitalistic greed of our society; all consistently repositioned me up against a fork in the road, would I be quality or quantity? It was near impossible to do both, for me... It was from the that steering wheel that my hands felt pried, and it seemed the precious was constantly slipping by the windows of my vehicle riding on wheels of fire to a distant goal that felt all too unreachable.

What some have done blindfolded, too me 30 years of sustained effort. when I slowed down to appreciate the scenery, I realized my spaceship had bent time/space.. I have felt almost like I got beamed back in, and the whole landscape, though almost familiar... came back into focus just a little out of sync.

I have realized what it means to live true, and how important it is to re-meet friends/loves through the eyes of wisdom acquired through aging and expereince. The eyes share the downloaded essence of vibrational transformation. We greet each other in joy, but weep weep for the burdens we see that each other has had to endure/survive/ grow through and past.

I discovered more about this with each loss... on my own trail... But, I finally re-arrived and see it fresh and new again. I realized that my own standards were such that I could never accept the glory part until I knew I was fully ready... after I had ripened , I saw that it was definitely true, that I needed to ripen first, and I needed to pony up to the ideals I set before me. How I failed in relation to them taught me as much and far more than any success I could have earned/learned. I grade myself from clarity and notice I earned gold stars long, long ago. When I recieve those awards from point in clarity, I shift my view and notice that I was with a team of award winners in every case. If I could have learned anything and recognise it's value for use in the future, then now is the time to apply it. I am absolutely certain this is probably, maybe, might be, the same for you, if you understand what I have been trying to convey here.

there is no arrive... there is just a continuing spiral towards....

Sadly, in our present society, where a child sometimes has to make their own way towards their potential through a virtual war-zone of masked hypocrisy... it's all too easy to get confused, and if you were blessed with some insight, so hard to keep it safe and alive...so you have to be learning and refining your vision as you go... Maybe years go by before you realize there were easier ways, before the veils were lifted. Hindsight is always 20 20. Some people never get to where they are headed until their deathbed... And the truth is, none of us can fully evaluate ourselves or each other, because transformation is a constant process, and each path/soul unique.

At this point in my life, I get to explain to the folks who felt left behind, no matter how long ago, that , from my viewpoint, it seems to me, that see we each got the the place needed to get to... and from that point where we feel we have arrived, we have so much more to share, and test, and learn by thorough true implementation...isn't it even better if we can greet each other anew and showcase that new beauty unfoldment, in light of our sacrifice, shine it back to each other and express how grateful we can be for any shared steps hand in hand? ... and maybe even the beauty of the price we paid for what we grew into, is worht celebrating... ain't it great when the sour parts get reclaimed through humor??? We can be throwing down new roots for newer harvest, by living with that dance among each other... and it's so much more fun... what could be more enjoyable for folks to share around the campfires of glory, that the stories of adventures, the epic tales we lived first hand? ... the nip and the tuck of our journeys...? If it's worth it, it's worth the price paid for knowing it this deep... and if it doesn't seem like you're there yet, then keep on keeping on, because the rest is coming, if you want it.

Society sometimes seems to have fallen too far for me to do much to try to reclaim anything... But then again, I get to smile if I want to, I get to encourage those around me if I choose. Those actions from others towards me, have save my life, in the past. If I have nothing else to do, then whynot ride the train and just spread a little hope through eye contact. Meet the ones who acknowledge your presence from that space... it's the biggest art of all, and you definitely gain more than you give, whenever you ride a trian like that.

In California , it all seemed so extreme, over the years. From my cable access tv show soapbox, I chastised the rich folks for belittling us with their flashy behaviour. We served them like slaves, they took us for granted, I can't even afford to live in this town anymore. I live on planet "ART TRUCK". I warned them about their internet stocks. I tried to be kind and still ring the alarm, 2 years in advance. the shows were edited, I launched those insights/warnings... And I admit it, I judged the people who built superficial worlds, invested in stocks that destroyed what's left of the last indigeonous societies, I did not help encourage them to consider other ways to make a dollar.

My role, as I now understand it, is to help encourage people back to their art/potential/passion. I'll try not to whip folks who are seeking help. Who needs to be blamed for disasters... Sometimes the only way we can learn from our actions is to realize the awesome power a mis-step can have over the happiness of innocent bystanders.

I saw too many empty lives clammering for another ski-doo to pollute the last tranquil lakes, rivers, oceans... they didn't realize how much there was to enjoy where they made their racket. Everyone yearns for the nutritional components of peace of heart/mind. A plastic world replica is a disaster for all.

.......

I got this e-mail from my friend Kenny Kolter. Right next to it was my friend Lon's reply, my son, another friend Ed, and a few more near and far.

Because they see this legendary status I seem to have developed by still trying to create beauty after losing so much from their position, they don't realize that from where I stand, I have been seeing the beauty of their choices for some time. And it made me cry equally as much as they did for joy of knowing me. Every life heroic.

One of my new cds expresses this sentiment; Everylife Heroic.

The key songs on that record were all written in the Zen of the moment, sung on street corners and some filmed simultaneously. I showcased one of my homeless friends, Jim Wade, and withing a few weeks of airing that Toe Knee Show, a couple of beautiful barely clad wonderbellied beauties stopped their RANGEROVER, jumped out and hugged and kissed smelly old big bellied JIM. The beauty of real tits, the way they boucne and the freedom of those early College age wonders of life's journey all collapsing safe around Jim's smelly old self. What a sight to see... and so, so pefectly and absolutely true.

They got his autograph, said he was going to be famous, said they loved his music and singing. From where I stand, from where I have been, all of creation seemed to line up in that moment. Rare that truth in presence could ever be expereince in such beauty full. Par for the Course if you are living a life on track. How many people can understand I rejected millions of dollars in order to create moments like that. And it's all beyond a song, and idea, a painting. To have that innocence, purity and beauty fall into your arms in that safe way, with trust... and to hear the song of the voice while she says you do not "smell at all", they love you anyway. That is heavenon earth... and who doesn't deserve a version of that?

I got powered up to invite myself to do my part to help create vmoments like these, through the art of action, because I had lived through the visions that came when I had lost all that was near and dear. I was driven to my knees, I kept my heart and eyes open and I saw truth and wanted to do better.

For the first time in my life, I was able to see the beauty of anyone trying to do anything. The child view that we all bring to our most precious and tender creative beauty wanting to express it's essence.

Think about that.

All thos past rivalries, all the attempts to win the prizes. They cuased us all to reach higher, further, harder... but notice/Recognise the real prizes you sometimes gain from losing. The reality that paradise in this 3d land is always in transition, always changing, always transforming. You held it, You knew it.... and yet it was burning you like a sunburn because you stood too long in it... But at least you were in it for a time... so , thank your lucky stars.... and get ready to do what you still need to do to feel able to fully recieve it again, if it ever comes back around again.

But ... get busy learning how to root for any success, your own or the success of your friends and relation... even the success of your enemies... That's what I saw when I hit my knees... and ...From that position, of holding what I had yearned so long to hold, I was aware I still needed to grow in order to truly recieve it as a daily experience... the concept of expanding and cheering on anyone eheaded in a good direction, graually seeped into my consciousness... I practised by watching family Feud, and the Lottery drawings. I wept many of time, noticing my heart was ready to expand with tender joy at the possibility that anyone could win...Yeah, I got really surpsied to see that my heart was doing something again for the first time. I was being washed with those tears... Some wires got reconnected that day. but I knew I was working towrds that for all the years of sacrifice... never realizing how beautiful it could feel.

It was/is worth the effort.

Let's say you are a golfing genius, and you break all the records. Let's say, on the way to fulfilling your life dreams, you watch everyone lay dream contracts and big money at your feet everywhere you go. Let's say you are so far ahead of what anyone though humanly possible, simply because you applied the effort and you see you have awesome vistas of growth in front of you. A long time ago, you home town, your race, your sport, your family, all your firends got supercharged by your skills. they each and all got renewed. folks journeyed to your hometown, your friends did interviews and discussed the pleasure of watching you become who you became. They get movie deals, move up a few steps on the ladder of status and the whole sport has been changed to a wonderland of opportunity and everyone starts to give you serious competition... but they still can't beat you. They've played their whole life towards goals that you long ago surpassed, now they are breaking through into territory that is starting to match... who says it's not your turn to take a rest, and let them win a few???

I watched the news events of the day, I studied the folks winning everything and everything. And I got happy to see families driving Ferraris around the city where I still can't even afford to live. I was notiding how much I felt encouraged to see anyone winning anything, to see anyone succeeding at anything... to see any family still intact... to see any marriage together...to watch anyone earn any kind of award for anything... Yeah...I got really happy to see ANYONE win.

I still watch family feud, just for that reason. I cry when I need to remember what it feels like to earn the finish line and know you did. It makes me happy to see other people's families together, to see anyone able to maintain wealth, or even work for wealth without thought of what they are destroying for the lives they build... Why shouldn't they feel blessed, take it for granted for awahile (as we all do), then re-teach themselves about what they have in their own way and eventually, who knows, maybe they will even be able to see the beauty of my path, as I now see beauty in theirs.... they might leave their endowment for the future art grants... Who knows how those dollars could be redeemed and re-cycled to help create something for the future of our children.

This is how we learn. Who am I to say?

I just found, through expereince and self-testing that I now can allow/bless it all. Who am I to judge... who am I to judge?

When I think of the struggle I have endured, I get grateful that I am learning. When I search to view true art, I see it in the lives of many friends who were able to hold their families close and dear. the 8 line e-mail respnse I have been dedicating this e-mail to, is very similar to the other e-mails I got. each one, in a life heroic and each one inspirational to me. Kenny and his wife and kids, that's art to me.

Interesting that I realize that I have to continue as the artist, musician, performer, first, because I trained myself to do so, and it would be a waste not to use the training... but, moreover, now, because folks connected to me are counting on me to deliver from this position. In a sense, I understand that we each have to honor the empowerment others provide to us, by crossing the finish line with it. we reward them by succeeding. Their belief in us, is like a bank account and we get to spend that towards our goals, with their blessing we achieve. We truly repay the ones who love us, by honoring them in this way.

ART in action helps. The breath freezes golden when it hits the air with that pleasant ring, when loved ones /friends meet. . All of a sudden, it all finally seems so ordinary, normal, appropriate, worth it... and oh, oh so fresh....... Like cleansing tears or a pouring rain that whispers to a quiet drizzle and we see clear true sparkly air between us... it all glows.

Maybe this isn't so special, maybe it's just living a regular life. Maybe that's why what's left of the third world indigeonous people's eyes sparkle so bright so dee, in such joy. Maybe we are all re-learning and re- earning our way back to what we already had/were/are.... it then becomes all art, all music...,

just as much as a zen moment that counts as much/more.

the ke sacrifices that held back some of what they have to offer....

What I have known all along is that the sparkle in a child's eye, or the love of a mate, partner, or unfolding respect and inspiration is all that we can ever truly build.. the best paintings are the ones you can't see unless you see with the heart.

Love needs no batteries.

............

Some words about Kenny, now, the first of a series of expositions on the great folks I know/have known. Kenny is the best drummer I have ever played music with (some say there were others as good around me... but I never played much music, not enough to have the same level of results with an audience. Kenny served us well, through the Buzzers, Lucky Bazooka and the Adaptors, and Anxious Eye. Each band, a littler different sound. About and album coming out from each era). Understand that I have played with many gifted drummers... Kenny gets showcased here,. for how he helped me/believed in me during my Austin Texas ART exhibitions period.

When I hit Austin, a few years back, I was launching my series of art shows called "Native American President", Kenny had moved their and was raising a family near Thrusday Mountain.

"Native American President 1992" seemed like an important idea to drop into people's consciousness pre-1992 election. That was the vision I had, during ceremony back in Iowa, and I was way out on a limb. I launched a series of 5 shows, in famous places, viewed by up and comers in the Texas Legislature. George W saw my work back then, just walked by it. I was background in those kinds of places. Seen by people who were/are on paths to play a part in our worlds. I was trying to help remind us all about "the people". This included me. It was a big idea. It worked. A lot of magic seemed to happen. I had no budget, no grants, no safety net. The economy sucked. I was soon playing music on the streets, living out of my car, doing my own PR... grabbing at straws to survive while nurturing that exhibtion process. I wasn't there to make myself famous. I was their to bring reminders of our essential relationship to each other, the earth, our future, what we have and how we live to honor it... symbols of folks who tried to do that, and were forced off their lands... not images to cause guilt. Images that inspired. It was a job beyond money... and I was realizing how broke I really was... did I fall off the cliff?

If I did, then I fell onto/into the dafety of Kenny's porch for daylight painting. and Thursday Mountain solo campfires cowboy indian style through Austin winter.

There couldn't have been a more humbling experience that feeling trusted in the company of another person's family, their precious family. I drank from that fountain.

Exactly what had been ripped from my life in another town, was all around for me to feel the safety, and see how much I wanted to protect it...It helped me to have those expereinces while I absorbed the reality of what I had walked into, in the Austin art world. I felt out of my league, realized that not everyone was going to recieve the ideology of my series of artworks cheerfully. Even though W, and Anne Richards, and Willie and others were walking past my art, I wasn't sure if I had , in fact been able to create the kinds of paintings that could inspire them towards goals well within their power...did I display the need for re-merging with harmony in all things, or just my own guilt for being born white in America? I hadn't tested that series, but the feedback was poweerful and affirmative, yet hardly enough sales. A success as a spiritual sacrifice. Ideas presented hit target... yet, with each passing day I was realizing that the last remnants of repairing my lost marriage were dripping through my hands like sands of time...So hard to explain that I was trying to survive a certain kind of death in my heart... something similar to what the native peoples have lost over the years... what did I expect. That's what shows up on a path like that. If you do it real. There's no safety net. Youhave to learn it through expereince, or you can't paint it. I wasn't the illustrator guy duplicating safe images. I produced stuff that pointed in a certain direction, with full compassion simultaneously. Those kinds of faces on humans look like Nelson Mandela, Mother Theresa, certain Yogis, elders who live true... Not everybody can be in a room full of them. Maybe it was too big of a mirror. But, to affect folks, not to sell, but to affect them/their perception, the perfect range and exactly "what the doctor ordered"...

Meanwhile, I was up on the mountain behind Kenny & Mara's house, cooking a can of beans and grieving the loss of my son and wife every night... praying for a success that also mtached soemthing I could bring back in full confidence and strength. I knew that the risk was gonna be that big, that I may have to accept the full loss in light of such a risk... but I never thought it would ever feel that desperate, that empty, and that permanent.... each second away from that small town in Fairfiled, was another nail in the tire-popping road barrier preventing me from ever driving back...

This rambling intro is rambling still further, can you believe it???

Lately , I've been doing many all nighters , still working on similar projects. LOng distancegoals that are meant to encourage, brighten and help lighten... inspire, ....I have a lot of work waiting for me....

I am trying to get prepared for my next series of waves of creative flow... the stories need to be told... while I do that, so I will continue to upload these postings. It's part of the process of being available, honoring the ones who are rooting for this process to work out...and those who can bear being near me while I still continue.

Back to the story,

.....there I was in Austin, nurturing my art at the various venues, shaking hand,meeting likeminded people, ... and getting press... and probably freaking out a lot of people who thought I was some sort of radical.

Anne Richards was considering one of my paintings for the statehouse lobby, or so I was told... and I was staying in Hillary's best high school friend's house back yard tee pee, then shaking her hand and waving to Bill backstage... It was a strange mix of miracle "in sync" combined with the previous reality of my internal trials.... ouch.

I was once stung by a sweat bee that flew in on a sandwhich I was eating. Right in the middle of a joke someone told me, and my huge laugh, I got stung. It felt like a spike had been driven through my tongue. I kept on laughing, though I hurt like hell. It was so important to share that laugh with that person, because they hardly ever embraced me with such humor. so I laughed while I was stung by a bee, and I kept the smile while I tried to figure out what had happened, then opened my mouth and watched the bee fly away.

There I was, shaking Hilary's hand, waving to Bill. before he was elected, being introduced as a friend of one of their friends... and I was a shattered internal wasteland of loss, my family back home was just slipping away all the while, and I knew it. I felt it. I couldn't make sense out of it...

Stung by a bee in the middle of a really happy moment.

Silly me... I scraped along, as best I could. Retreated to my outdoor Austin Texas porch studio.

....................

Kenny & Mara invited me to paint on the porch, after I called with my last quarter from a construction site campsite. a place where I knew I could park my car and not disturb anyone by sleeping in it. that's all I could afford... I'd scraped the last chnge from the floor. Thank God for the Datsun 510 and it's sweet low gas requirements... I could drive in and back for the galleries for less than a dollar a day.

They invited me to ask the community to let me sleep out of my car on Thursday mountain, so I tried it, I felt protected and safe, I asked and they said yes... then, I sold a small painting below wholesale costs for basic food expenses, and I sang songs / grieved to the canyons below everynight like a warrior on a battlefield of life... which is where I was on the battlefield of my heart.

To the canyons every night, I wrote music about the journey I was surviving, some of the best songs ever.

That was right next to Joe Ely's house...(do a search for FLATLANDERS.com, and meet Joe and Jimmy Dale and links to the rest of the Willie Nelson Family and friends). Late one night we walked over to Joe's house and shared some night air. I met him more officially at one of Willie's annual events. Courteous, respectful, excellent humans... are always a pleasure to meet.

Funny how you can share meals with folks, yet the price paid for their success (by them) is that they meets SO MANY people, they start seeing the world as a blur. All I can say about those folks is that it was important for me to study how they handled themselves, how they stayed natural and humand and equal.. How they refused to "put on airs". I was very glad to share time with them, shaking hands, sharing beers or meeting their extended family... but I learned so much watching them with the folks they were bond in love with, in the ways that real lives lived can bond you. They seemed to be true enough for me... luckily I filmed some of it. I feel indebted with the way they stick to their path, though it changes for them as much as mine changes for me... they intentionally meet new folks one on one everywhere they go. They meet their audience first hand... I got a view of what that looked like.

Anyway.

I heard Kenny's community band play in Austin , while I was sleeping on the mountain ...I really wanted to join in. I asked, but I realized then that my songs wer close to the bone and raw , I waas incubating with a new sound... my mountain music was too fresh... it felt so much better to pace myself, to nurture my way through my own transitions, and to use my songwriting as a method of self-reflection as well as honoring. My whole world was changing. That's not always the best time to be on stage. I played Austin venues solo.... I practised my performance with folks on sidewalks, rush hour. I tested the vibes I was putting out and I took cues on where to search for bullsh*t in that process. It's easy to fool yourself.... as anyone reading this already knows.too.

I DID NOT QUIT. Believe it or not, I felt the confidence building, and over the years finally reached the point where I now feel I could hold my share of the stage right next to Willie, if he ever invited me. But he'd have to hear me play first, and I chose to learn from him back then (and ever since), rather than beg him for a break.

Believe it or not, when I did hand him a pre-release copy of my 5th album, on his bus, drinking some of his coffee, I said, " I don't need your help, here's a gift of my music for you, something to entertain you for a few minutes on the road" when he saw me reaching to get the cd, and hand it to him, I noticed he was feeling "oh no, not another person beagging for a break" . However, I didn't. It could have changed my whole world, yet I knew I wasn't ready at that time.

Now, when I feel most ready and the voice matches the feeling of the songs sung, I seem further from sharing a song with Willie, heart to heart.

I've repeated this chapter with Mellencamp. I envisioned visiting him at his studio, and it made sense, so I drove around a blizzard on my way home from Cincinnati, and I stopped into see him. He was reaching for another master tape right inside his studio door. He saw me, and immediately had this look on his face like he was saying "Come on man, you know you shouldn't be visitng me on myown land, you know you didn't have to knock on my door... why are you here". It was a lighthearted versin of that, and he, sure enough opened his door and we talked on his porch ofr 10- 15 minutes.

I chose not to insist. I chose not to invade. We had a shared viewpoint. He gave me free advice. He encouraged me. But he said he wouldn't have any more time than that 15 minutes. He was they guy I respected, I believed in, and he fulfilled that premise. Completely honorable, equal, considerate and respectful, but still busy.

I did debate the methods of fame with hime... what it means to do your dream, how much I was trying to save my marriage by skipping a few steps... but I never sold him a painting, I did not walk in the door he left ajar, while he left and came back. Honor respect. you do not have to steal a breakthrough. If it's that big of an emergency, then you will have to watch the disaster of arriving too early.

I'm a whole lot closer to the stage than I ever was, and it doesn't hurt as much to wait patiently... because I became closer to being the person who can play from the spot on this street, in this neighborhood at the back door at the Aha! Inventor's workshop... where I practice teaching what I learned over the years, starting with art and music production. Ready to build a stage inside here and invite folks to step onto it with me.

So, I did it on the mountain, I did it in the streets, I did it on the small stages in the folk clubs..., I visited Willie and gave him a Buffalo Skull, then I honored him by not taking up his precious time.

..............................

Great performances cannot be better the real life moments. My God, swinging a hammer in a zen way on a construction site, is as powerful as singing a beautiful song true.

There are HUNDREDS of black performers who match Ray Charles, singing in community church choirs, on back porches, at family/community gatherings. The illusion of this modern world is that the famous folks are the ONLY folks... I am sorry to burst your bubble by reminding you of the star inside you that's starting to shine right where you stand. You know that this will ever be the case, and is always an adventure more fun than arriving.

Watch that last video of Johnny Cash, and see the empty hollow inside his eyes when he explains that he felt fear that everything he did for his own fame created dirt in other peoples lives... and watch the despair when he sings the if he had it to do over again, according to him, he would never have left that part of himself in the past. I suggest that expressing that, before he left us proves it was always there... He's a saint in my book. He could have left us with a pretty picture, instead he admittted he wished he had done better. That should be a call to action, if you have anything ready to bring for our benefit. build the buildings, write the songs, honor your tribe, become a better person...

Saint Johnny is Saint Johnny because he admits this, before he left our lives. By admitting it, he is shining a light on the ones who are shining the light everywhere except on camera.

Remember what the Indians said about the dangers of the camera, it can steal your soul. I have seen this first hand, even in my own life, from time to time. I walked right back to the sparkle. Nobody saw it, because it was done off camera. I loved being a pioneer of the current reality tv show movement. But the reality of this current phase, is to bring the real folks to the light we all need to share. no child left behind, no genius left fehind. I 'd rather witness the sparkle of innocence in the eyes of the kids in local stage plays that to meet Britney Speers... I mean, really.... she's not even attractive to me.

Summary: In any case, it was Kenny and his family that helped make a safe place for me to build a few paintings while enduring the sacrifice of bringing those paintings to the stages of Texas. I sure hope Willie and his friends take care of those paintings... they cost a lot, in terms of endurance. They weren't created to manufacture acclaim. But they did transform hearts... because the altar from which they were painted was built by the ones mowed down by Custer, to make room for our tv. And we still need to re-balance to reclaim our dignity and sanity for that. SO , Let's do it in Joy.

I have been trying to explain that the true art of art is more about giving the artist a safe place on your porch to paint their masterpiece. I certainly cannot help but feel that I may have been ready to step into Willie's world, and not realized that he'd have been glad I showed up. I can't leave out the fact that I could not consider that I had any value to him. And I can't leave out the fact that I thought I was ready to play music with Kenny and his band as well... By writing this, and revising it a few times, as my thoughts, ideas, memories get refined and simplified I actually see that the beauty of my Austin texas time frame, was that I got to witness a family that trusted me, and to pay homage to a whole bunch performers who benefited me with the songs they sang from my radio growing up. I got to thank them, and dutifully respected their privacy... who could ask for anything more?

Keeny is now the same ages I was, when I went down to Austin for those shows and painted paintings on his porch.

I think it is the age when most people begin to start thinking from point of realization that there may only be ONE more time to do their life dream inthis world.

So he e-mailed me and spoke from that position about how he regards my presence in his life, and cherishes the times shared.

We all eventually know that we have to make sense out of our journey. NOW. In other words, if you have learned something, and have a chance to prove it in present action, then the moment's depth reaches these levels. If you get the chance, you decide you want to try and hit as many of those notes as you can. Especially if it is in process of reflecting beauty back to the ones that inspire you.

All the more precious if consciously earned. You choose not to miss the moment. You get moved to acknowledge the beauty. Maybe this is the practise of life where we all show up as artists for each other.

THE more beautiful the paintings, music, whatever, you have done up till now, the harder it may be to continue creating from the same level if you try to force consistency, you lose the connection.

If you study, you can have the breakthrough of witnessing the art in the Policeman, the art in the Waitress, the art in the NURSE, the art in the Doctor, etc. etc.. everywhere you turn.

It starts to heat up in your hand. Your mind shakes, your heart aches... and then you get used to it and realizing you are only starting and it finally feels like you are getting somewhere fools you into thinking you have arrived.

And then, you start over... maybe all cycles always go this way and life really IS a circle... maybe maybe maybe.

I feel like I re-arrived at the beginning of the circle drawn ready to go again.

If it weren't for the reflections of the ones around me who know me well enough to write like Kenny wrote... I may think I haven't gotten anywhere.

You work your whole life to become who you are, now that you ARE, what are you going to do?

I love the smiles.

I love the dancing hearts.

I love the deep impressions people can give to me, to each other , and everything in between those echos. There's no denying it, if you get moved deeply, everything comes into focus, and the hard crusty parts always get sahttered.. the veils fall for a few seconds it all is sharp and in-sync... The limiting factors erase themselves right in front of you... and it's sink or swim.. but in a good way, cause you're getting a feel for how the wind moves, the currents in the water, the voices of encouragement, the adventure of testing yourself...

I think some folks call this mastership.

... or maybe it's just being normal and everybody gets a chance as soon as they are ready... and maybe you get knocked off the horse until you can stay on... and maybe you CAN learn more from the survived fall...i

Back to Austin; I think some of the lurking researchers must have been thinking I was a radical crazed fringe person. But I come from a family of hard working common people. Salt of the Earth. All I wanted to do back then, was paint the kind of paintings that could remind us all that we still have opportunity towards the dignity of tribal harmony with each other, our goals and our Earth. All of us , all around us, all in this 3d world, all of us on this continent will have to make peace with the part we play. It's still here. Ready or not, we still can make a go of it. All available and all still true. Right here among the people with whom we share breath.

When I visited the Native American Reservations, I was searching for a medicine man to help me complete visions that came through prayer. I was trying to find a way to help bring peace to the battlefields, to shft us all towards co-operative mutual benefit. It was a big idea, and I was not the only one who had it.... obviously. But it felt even bigger, becuase it was a part I saw that I could play. By going to those native lands alone, and following the intuition and the visions, I met the elders and they invited me to their circles. They offered me spots to sleep in their houses, on their floors. They fed me.

Just like an artwork, by doing it, I had changed myself forever. I went to the source of where I knew I could find a connection to a way back . It was not for me personally, since I had already been on my path. I wanted to play a part by bridging those representatives of those ancient ways back into our society. I was just one of many... and it had been going on for a long time. Lots of white people feel called to take these kinds of risks on behalf of racial injustice. To me, it was also a task inspired by a series of meditaions I did on some of the past massacres. I was sensing the un-peace of those souls who met up with each other on battlefields back in those days... I was sensing the shock and trauma of the indian women, shildren and old people mowed down by Custer in early morning raids.

The further I allowed myself to feel those realities, that the Native People still wake up to each day, the more I wanted to try and do my part by showing up and searching for medicine people who would go to the battlefields with me and all pray together to bring peace there.

Those kinds of journeys, many of them, changed me. when I returned to my hometown and faced blank canvas I found myself painting the native warriors, the compassionate ones, who still defended their people ferociously. the saintly faces of the heroic leaders who lived harmony ... who fought honorably, and who grieved over their victims. You see the honor of warriorship on their faces, and the peace of what that means, even though they had survived many battles, they did not have the faces of killers.You can see these same peaceful aged faces on the faces of WWII American war veterans. You can see the sparkle right along side it, nurtured by knowledge of peace and what's precious... aged by the sacrifice of what it means to protect your people in the 3d world.

The visions I had came true. It'll have to be a long form book. We all respond to these kinds of impulses around us in our lives. For me, it was a long distance solo motorcycle journey... and when I returned I found myself painting Indians.. . what seemed like the hardest way for a guy like me to make money, but the best way for me to fulfill a responsibility to make a difference with the art I created.

Years later, Kenny saw me painting those kinds of paintings on his front porch in Austin. He may not have known that my heart was grieving over loss I was expereincing in relation to the same parts of this society that ripped the families and land away from the Native people's. the ailments of our society hurt us all equally, whether we know it or not.

We can play a part to build a better world.

It does not require war.

About the Native/shamanistic Journeys that influencemy native american paintings; Those Native elders greeted me as equal human, took me in to their family, sacred rituals, fed me at their tables... let me sleep in their houses. This is where I came from, similar to the family I was raised in. We had a lot in common... not every community embraces diversity while holding onto it's tradition. they showed me, they can and I learned from being there, in ways I am still learning each day.

....the path got wider, deeper, more expanded and more beautiful when it's beauty, more sad than I can bear when it's sad... yet always transforming and still painting Indians from time to time.

In reality, if we each find peace where we live, with the ones around us, and if we can find ways to develop that to a deeper level of trust, we can do so much more in far less time. and this is now being proven in Indonesia. Watch them work together, and let us all learn from helping and caring from a distance.

The proof is in the pudding. Back in Iowa, I loved playing music for the people. I loved painting paintings inspired people to see a sunset clearer and honoring it's beauty or remembering it...then telling me that the painting inspired those thoughts/vibrations.

When I played music with the various bands, players, whether it was around an indoor fireplace with glasses of wine in sparkly spacious castle/mansions with indoor swimming pools, or in small midwest clubs, or backstage with fellow performers at music festivals, on porches, in kitchens or home studios... watching folks dancing, playing drums with us, laughing with excellent enjoyable conversation... evrything seemed to be in it's place.

Everybody was a genius in that flow of creative beauty. and the nights faded away in joy and peace... far better than war. The gallery openings, the folks who see what we do, who honor us for doing it.. they remind us of our purpose... Bucky Fuller says we are all born to genius, and the natural flow of things will reveal this if we are left to creative flow... because of certain aspects inside our wasteland of modern urban grey colored industrial society, and the realities of survival, we sometimes feel like the last blades of grass trying to grow through concrete that holds us smothered away fro the light of the sun... yes, we feel this, yet we cannot give up.

The genius within us, though invisible, still has the power to break through all our barriers and to do it in a mutually beneficial way.

I believe this, or I would have quit long ago.

I dream of a west coast tour, I gauge my distance from fulfilling that dream everyday. gotta do it right. got to prove I learned how to do it right.

....and I get encouraged when folks remind me that I am providing something they appreciate.

My son once said something, right before I left on this long distance journey. He said "Be kind to the people". 3 years old and such wisdom...

I know, the road can kill you. But I like to travel. What I realized a long time ago, is that it's all about who you share the ride with, the folks you spend time visiting on the way, and how it enriches you /changes you/transforms you from then on out.

My connections, my family, my friends are all time TESTED. I love the idea that newer, better , more enriching moments with fresh blood might be some where in my present life, waiting to evolve and appear now and in the near future. No better time or place to start practising than in the present moment, mean what you say, say what you mean. Be beneficial.

...deliver!

How would the world be if we started practicing being intentionally uplifting each and every moment, encouraging each other towards these shining gems called shared moments. Then we can start inviting fellow travelers to retake the goldmine internal, in a good way... we won't be locked away from our deserved rewards, what we instinctively desire to share with others... no need to feel shocked watching concocted meaningless actors who win awards pretending to be real, or to feel that their. limelight takes away from our limelight... Let 'em be. They'll be the fading symbols reminding us of what we have been doing all along, and we may have to make peace with that. Since, we are necessary right where we stand, an dif not, we can become beneficial and then watch how that feels.

Nothing like starting over. It's a circle anyway...

.

yes.

...

....and now, for your perusal, the recent dialogue with Kenny;

Kenny,

I appreciate that very much.... remember this, it wouldn't be the case that you would e-mail me telling me that my art is so beautiful, or that your heart feels like it is breaking with joy to still see me doing my walk, if it weren't a shared TRUE reality between us ; reflected.... that's the crying "tears of joy" part. It's a tribute to you, to me, our families and the friends/times we shared.... the least of all this is the idea of me playing a part. Yet, I admit we each, including me, are necessary for these realities to have such depth.

Folks around me here are starting to say the same about me, reflecting similar appreciations... but I feel frustrated, because I haven't even started and they think I have applied finishing touches to what I am trying to build!.....

I admit my life may appear heroic,

...it's not easy getting back up off the canvas this often, but each time I do, for me, it feels like it's another heavyweight bout won, with a thousand I get to see still waiting in line to greet me right after. I love the wins, but the journey between isn't for everybody, and I sure do miss the team effort.

In any case, symbolic living has it's rewards...

e-mails like yours with foundations between us that put depth to the meaning, as does time, space and separation.

the bigger it is, the wider as well.

that is, the bigger life is, the wider the heart can become... needs no batteries.

in any case.

i must be a philosopher.

...as you mayhave already noticed, I'm presenting moments of exquisite depth, shared with past teams, on -line, validating ALL of our shared pasts at the same time... I swear to God, it's far bettter than a VH1 special.

....so, in gratitude for you e-mail... this will get posted and then modified cause it's time for folks to hear about the profound beauty of the unknown Anxious Eye victories we shared, as well as the paintings and the tv.... and, by the way, I have been re-shaping all the 4 track and other masters of our recorded history.... so feel free to find a corporate sponsor, or to kick in any tapes you might have from those sessions... I sure wish we had a copy of that reel from the "Something Different" show. I don't know if you realize this when you hear the current trends in music, but we did have an effect on what's out there now... it's too close to be an accident.

I find peace in knowing that the effects we each have on each other come in all forms on all levels, and rarely is the good stuff trackable, anyway... just cause those other folks are on tv doesn't mean they are living happy and free. We , at least, get to be somewhat regular people, because we don't have to deal with the destructive qualitites of fame. that's right , I did say... Quali, tities.. Let's make it official Quali-titties.

I mean, really, nothing could be more beautiful than real, natural, tits... so, we made music... it will never match how I felt when I was breast fed.

They say the warriors of ancient times were fiecest, if they were well-bonded with their mothers, and their escapades/heroics protecting their tribes on the battle fields were to protect that sacredness back home. This is how we live, learn, pay tribute. So, ultimately, we are just trying to leave some beauty for the next generations, safety with mothers and children.

In my case, it was a long distance sacrifice. So, it looks bigger, and seems to mean a lot more because it seems so deep.

You can thank my parents for that, I guess.

But we can thank each other for meeting up on the frontlines and making it beneficial as best we could. warriors do this.

...................

You'll notice that I have been also highlighting some of my solo journey in these various big cities of North America. In a sense, I have been researching "what it means" and testing the quality of what I have been trying to bring to the stage/gallery walls.

One of my postings talks about one of the open-mike series of performances I did in Seattle, pre-Cobain era. Musicians learn from each other, on various stages, back stage, in the alleys on the way to the gigs...

What I never really considered, was that maybe Cobain was in one of those audiences where I played...an anonymous setting in his life's journey back in those days could have included that maybe he tripped across a path where I was playing some of the songs Anxious eye helped develop. I swear I hit peaks of crests of waves, that few people who know me thought I could have ever hit... and I was the only one who really knew the difference. I saw that there were times when I was hitting home runs consistently, but it was only for those moments, those times and the space got wide, the faces showed/reflected and the hearts inside of eyes who urgently thanked me.... this all happened while I was riding solo... and I was definitely walking through some of those other folks'territories. they'd a seen me, if they wwere there then... and it took all these years to realize that perhaps this was the biggest part of my musical journey; being symbolic for the future Cobains.

Did I ever tell you I met Courtney's dad a few times out here? do you think that's a littel eerie? How bout the fact that I hung out with willie for awhile a few times, shook the hands of Johnny Cash?, Lunched with Joan Baez over and over... in a sense, I was noticing that the internal work (the more important work of a true artist) brought me to a level where I could sit and have enjoyable conversation with folks who most people would never meet, unless they also were famous.

Studying the energetic of things, it seems to me that embracing a path of musci as a JOB, is slightly less than embracing music the way I always have embraced music; as part of the ART of LIVING.

If a person has done a job for their whole life, even if they get famous doing it, it has to be a little less than feeling the depth of creative flow, which is right here in our breath. You don't have to write a song to get to those levels, you don't have to paint like rembrandt, you don't have to appear on peoples records, or their tv shows.

Cause everyone knows (as we are now seeing) whatever you do, the quality of moment you are building into your future is the true benefit of a life well lived.

I am probably ready to be well knwon now, because I made it a priority to unveil the illusions of fame, power, significance.

Recently, I sold a painting to family down the street. It's a symbol of Path , painted like a Monet. I sold it for less than 5% of it's true value. But it is riches to me, daily, becuase I precious little girl wakes up to it in her sacred safe family each day. She rushes up to it and kisses it, and says my name. This girl's sparkle and brightness enriches me thorugh that painting. And, I get to know that (just like the paintings I gave you) , I am woven into her life symbolically through that painting. I know that the images I grew up with are part of my life. I still remember the paintings my family had on our walls. They encouraged me, enriched me.

The beauty, the art, for Joan Baez or Willie or any of those folks who seems special or famous or powerful, has to be similar to where my enrichment comes from. Standing ovations do not match true smiles where no favors are traded, and you just enjoy the sun shining with a friend. this what real art, real music are all about.

.................

Back in 1990, I was not so sure I was building this kind of quality of depth of appreciation... so I had to journey further. that's because I vowed to be in surrender to the path for these reasons, and this was the price I paid...

So, when Steve Oliver called me(in 1990), while I was holding my own new born prescious baby and sleeping next to my luscious wife... I was fearful of losing all that safety... for a while there, I was temporarily trying to relinquish my vows... I guess. but I sincerely tried... and Ii did whatever I could to shift to a homestyle version of this path... I must have survived the tests, just to be able to talk about it now.

We each have a range of sacrfice that matches what some folks call Karma.. I knew, long ago, from the illustrations folks in my family provided, that nothing could come of substance from mere fame or small-minded success. that was not my path... but I sure wanted to slow down and just stay with my family... it felt like it was trying to rush out of my life... and Steve's call seemed symbolic of something I was trying to forget asbout my chosen life's purpose/significance... the path of artist in the 21st century might just have to alsways go through these illusions... at least my path seemed to neeed those tests... and I was choosing family, family, family ... trying to do anything I could instead of the price I had to pay to become a better version of who I was trying to allow myself to become... something like that...

Steve is such an excellent guitar player. He added so much vitality from the stage when we all drove Anxious eye to the Audience. That's why I still know I have to re-mix those tapes. I am that kind of artist... I can't let the paintings rot. Steve was also into his brand of wanting to be famous, which was not my primary goal, back then... maybe it should have been. I think I would have been more honest with myself to have worked on it flat out... since the illusion really tweaked me and was already interfering with my process.. yet I'd never sorted it out to this degree, because I hadn't paid these deep prices to see the beauty until now... beauty. At 5am, when he called, I awoke from a deep tranquility , in the arms of my wife with our son next to us... and he said he was calling from L.A. deep in an overnight artistic expressive binge painting and drawing and listening to up-comers in the LA music scene. He said, "I heard you on the radio Toe Knee, and I know it was you and I had to call to say, "let's reform Anxious Eye" and complete the journey together". Well, he was right, it was me, it was US.... but not necassarily our songs, or me/us singing, it was the radiance glow from the effect we had on those folks who carried it across the finish line in the form of their own music. They may have never realizing we were there ahead of them, on that mountain peak... we just never left our flag to destroy the view. Maybe the folks who accept flame and lose family over it are just (in reality) so hell-bent on having a plaque put up , or a flag or a statue about it... that doesn't mean it will last.

Our music is still vital, current, lasting... and, in fact, I am now believing I have actually crossed the finish line. Because why? Because I shared the sparkle of ey with all the folks enriched in moments of shared beauty. Some were on stages, some were anonymous in crowds, and some were just living life as amoment to moment sacred path of true art, true heart.

It just so happens that, along with the super stars of common people (the unfamous), I actually found peace in moments shared with folks who lost a lot of family, friends, beauty on the path of fame... yet they were definetely very, very anxious to drink from that fountain of shared moments when I met them. In a sense, the Unpath as well as the Path were both redeemed by those meetings. We had each arived at the same goal through different routes. Anybody who gets there says it's worth the journey, everytime... and I guess I do to, nowadays. yet, it's not what I thought it was going to be, better... I need to create some momentum so I can share it.

And that's what I am saying each second of each moment now.

So, I must be ready to be right here where I already am.

And guess what, so are you.

What's the difference how we got here?

...........................

I am not so sure if this is supposed to cheer anybody up about what they may have to go through /survive to become their own truth. But sometimes, I think this is what you get if you do 200 open mikes across this country over a period of 20 years , yet walk away from superficial glory. this is what you get.

Life is a stage. We all have to play our part.

They won't know I have re-joined them. They might not care.

But I noticed in their eyes that they realized they hadn't really left folks like me, by becoming famous. they just took a roundabout path to our destiny of a shared moment. In truth, I believe that if we have folks we are destined to meet, they will show up on the path we have decided to take. If you want it to be a fun meeting, then do the choice for your own potential to unfold, not for the purpose fo specific results... I met folks sleeping out of my car on cross country journeys. It seems to me, if I had gotten music lessons, acting lessons, coaching earlier, or been born rich, I'd have met them somewhere else, but would I have taken the time to enjoy the meeting?, would I have known it was precious?

They might not recognize me, or see me. but we can all stand on a street corner waiting for a light to change every so often, in our lives and a shared space/breath is sometimes worth more than a grammy award. I swear to God this is true.

If I am worth the journey of where I have to go; I have been becoming, then the guitar, voice and harmonica and the songs will do the work for me, but they will be no more than an introduction , a portfolio to explain shared vision. The birds of the feather after the show, and a relax on the porch will be where the real party happens...

Sometimes, when I do not feel this clear about the process, I'm not sure if I am in a haze, or a limbo, or if I became Jimmy Stewart frozen in the 3rd act of it's a wonderful life.

But, though you ,nor anyone should never have to know what I've survived the past 6 years-15 years since we've shared space, you still help me see that I have been doing some solid travel. The space between points to this. And this is the beauty of time and space....

I'm thinking I can take the beauty of your e-mail appreciation to be expressed thorugh the NEXT painting, through the NEXT performance, through the NEXT songs I write.

Interesting.

But long before that, my in-out breaths have gained power... and I feel refueled. And this is why I put as much emphasis on not-painting, not-singing, not-writing as I put on doing anything. The space between is like drawing back the bow. All future choices get super-charged. Needs no batteries.

Intonation never lies. People know from those vibrations that the voicing is coming from genuine experience. brushwork never lies... body language never lies... developing the vision to see/hear/touch to the depth where no lies exist. clarity reveals the truth we travel towards. Only the foolish fools get fooled.

This is why I have always studied the elders, in their smiles through pain, we seem to be able to see the conversation that lifts, soars, the soul. Who said they got that from watching tv or hiding from their heart/tears/pain/joy? ... Nobody, never. The direct route is coming back.

Love Needs No batteries

"...another interesting test adventure into the magic of intention on the material plane"

Art into Life

-Toe knee

Email From: "Ken Kolter" (the short and sweet, which inspired this long soapbox journey through philosophical metaphor.

(drummer from "Anxious Eye" , a shared band from Iowa days).

to ; toekneestanger@hotmail.com

Subject: Hello

Date: Sat, 18 Dec 2004 19:01:02 -0600

Hey,

I saw the blog thing you've created

.......and looked at your paintings

They are so good

I felt like crying

Remembering your talent

And heart

And friendship

Thank you

Merry, merry

And happy, happy

Love,

Kenny