A vessel from the earth, strange and unknown, baring forth both blood and fire, finds Walking Man
When You Spoke, guitar, accordion, banjo, and voice.
A Vessel, Strange and Unknown Finds Walking Man
The School of the Transfer of Energy
workshop studio land
The School of the Transfer of Energy 
That’s an awesome drawing, and an equally awesome photo of the drawing of the drawing. I love your process shots and music too! Looking forward to hearing how he got those twisty little horns growing out of his head. It looks like he found a lotus chalice.
Thank you, Mikey. Yeah, those horns, full of mystery they are. The desire for explanation has been expressed a few times, yet how shall I explain them?
I’d love to hear about it sometime, but there is no rush, of course. I imagined that they were a personal symbology or part of a slow metamorphosis. In due time!
Enjoyed reading Mike’s comments and must agree with his words. What a beautiful ‘trip’ you have taken us on with this song and this drawing and this photo. It’s like hearing the music in Walking Man’s mind. And yet those thorns…make his voice chestnut-hard or carousing during Shakespeare’s era or when another dimension fell over the land on the eve of the Civil War. I don’t know, and hesitate to assign meaning to something so elusive. I’m trying to scratch at the surface and find where the ‘otherness’ is coming from. Beautiful again and thank you,
Thank you, Steven. Chestnut hard, from an era before the blight. Can you explain what you are seeing a little more, Steven?
I feel somewhat intrusive now about dashing off first impressions (above) about such a beautiful drawing. It’s so easy to say things without introspective substance that ‘sound good.’ So I’ll try to go back into what I was seeing and thinking a bit more.
Here goes:
My thought was the ‘thorns’ or ‘horns’ were hard…and grew for self-protection or fierceness of mission or expressing a revelation, as if they were frozen fire. Maybe expressing a ‘law.’ So the voice I’m imagining (a voice coming from a man with horns growing from his skull) has gone through experiences the opposite of softness. That doesn’t mean without tenderness. But he’s more like wood. Some knowledge has been cast upon him by his own perception. By how he perceives and receives the world. Like a tree that has seen different times, and events, come and go. The pageant. The sorrow. The ecstasy. And internally he is somehow connected to it all like a tree with roots down into the ground and branches upward into the air. And thorns or horns.
Well, I hope I haven’t put my foot into my mouth with this interpretation.
Not even remotely have you put your foot into your mouth. And you certainly have my respect for taking the risk. To me, words seem too risky for me to chance my heart with them sometimes, so I stick to drawing, which, in its fashion, allows intuitive and hidden intentions stay in that realm more easily than words might- although that may be a wrong perception on my part.
How I work, Steven, I often need to let God tell back to me what I have made with my fingers, and what for. Sort of like: “ok I listened and saw, I felt and made. What is this now?” So then I wait for an answer, and then comes Steven McCabe, who takes the risk and tells me about Walking Man’s journey with fitting words.
I could try to nail down the horns with a word, or how they came to be there. But you’ve done better than I could. There is more, of course, but these things are all mysteries to me, and some of the things I know, I am unwilling to share on the internet:). But many things stay like observable tips of deep mysteries, like walking through a new forest with new growing things. I may identify the plants and animals to some extent, which helps me in my journey, and some may have some deeper meaning- or provide some nourishment, but in relation to their vast sum, I walk in unknowing, but filled with trust that I am receiving goodness from Great Goodness.
“Frozen fire”, wow!
Your words ring deep like a bell of bronze, well-crafted by a master, you aim like a true marksman. I will learn from them.
Jack, your thoughts are very generous. Ultra generous in fact. And you are far better with words than you maybe think. But yes, I agree, the mystery in the drawing best reveals itself as a drawing. I’ve really enjoyed what you’ve written here and will refer to it again to better understand your process. The synchronicity idea is very interesting. One puts it out there and a voice of sympatico appears, offering some insight & confirmation. The words ‘Great Goodness’ are rejuvenating in and of themselves.
I come back often to this post Jack….to look at your work in progress and to wander through the dialogue between you and Mike and Steven. It settles me…like siting around a fire. I’ve whittled two sticks from hard wood washed down in the creek’s Spring torrent, stripped of bark. They have just the right sound and keep a tapping rhythm I hear all around me. The leaves praying in their vigil.
Gifts of mystery abound…..
Jana, thank you for coming back often to sit around the fire with us. Your whittled sticks remind me of when I was a boy, desperate to make anything I could with my pocket-knife. I am grateful now for the humble intercession of the water and the green.