Battle of the Little Bighorn

I recently finished an excellent book by Stephen E. Ambrose titled: Crazy Horse and Custer, The Parallel Lives of Two American Warriors.

The opening paragraph of the Introduction to the book reads thus:

“This is the story of two men who died as they lived – violently. They were both war lovers, men of aggression with a deeply rooted instinct to charge the enemy, rout him, kill him. Men of supreme courage, they were natural-born leaders in a combat crisis, the type to whom others instinctively looked for guidance and inspiration. They were always the first to charge the enemy, and the last to retreat.”

This book was a fantastic read for me, following both men through their youth and early adult years until the battle that ended them both, one on the battlefield and the other later killed while in custody.

There is, of course, no photographic documentation of the Battle of Little Bighorn while it was occurring. My family visited the battlefield several years ago. It was a running battle. The tombstones are laid out along the way, marking where the dead fell. Around a small hill are the last ones.

However, this painting (above) is so full of energy and action and battle that you might guess the artist was a witness. You can hear the gunfire, Indian screams and yelps, Calvary horns, horses galloping. The painting shows ponies riding full speed, Indians killing and going for the kill and Calvary holding out and shooting back to the very last man. Titled “The Custer Fight” it was painted in 1903 by the extremely talented Charles Marion Russell.

The Best That I Have

The following quote is from a magazine article about the actor William Hurt. Younger folks will remember him from some Marvel movies late in his career playing the role of General Ross. I would encourage them, and anyone else, to travel back to 1980 and watch the movie “Altered States.” Then make your way through the rest of his movies from the 80’s and 90’s and continue as far as you are still interested. He reminds me of Dennis Hopper and Philip Seymour Hoffman in that you might not like everything they were in, but you would watch it just the same because if they were good, they were usually outstanding. Hurt died in 2022.

Make no mistake, Hurt was dedicated to his craft. “I never explain my movies — it just ruins the emotion,” he told the Post. “I love saying that line. There is a point to explaining what I do, but at some point you just have to do it. The work is the best that I have to offer. That’s what I want to be eloquent at.”

Dopville

Once a month I highlight a piece of art I have created and posted on my Fine Art America site. This one is titled Dopville from the Abstract Art Collection.

Bliss, Birds and Taking Care Of Things

Recently I had a most fantastic day. It was during late March, the temp in the upper forties and the sunshine coming down at mostly full force through a few strands of clouds. I had been raking leaves and doing other small clean-up jobs around the acreage when I eyed the poor, weather battered homemade chimes hanging limply among the trees and poles, some broken on the ground. For some reason collecting and fixing them became my instant focus. I gathered up some thin wire, needle nose pliers, some S hooks and a few other things I might need and sat on my bench in the sun, facing the south. I laid out my materials and tools around me and got to work. Two of the chimes needed to be completely rebuilt. There was a light breeze from the east, but not enough to bother or chill me. I took my time, cutting out old, disintegrating material and replacing it with new. Occasionally I would stop and lean my head back, eyes closed, and feel the early warm spring sun on my face. To do something enjoyable, without knowing beforehand we wanted to do it, might be one of our most rewarding experiences. That was how I was feeling. It was a bliss, after such a long, cold snowy winter, to be sitting outside in sunshine working on something.

The birds have been gradually returning to our place. So far I have seen mourning doves, sparrows, crows, finches, cardinals and of course the ubiquitous robins. There are some hawks in our area, and we will occasionally see a bald eagle. I have not heard the coyotes much so far this spring, nor have I seen the usual explosion of baby rabbits, but those could both change at any time.

Our road is starting to get a little busier with the farmers trucks and tractors coming and going, with planting right around the corner. We are coming to the time of year, as my Dad says, “when it’s time to start taking care of things again.”