"Until You Went Away..." - Brad Michael Moore
November 18, 2019

"Perils of Rads" © 2018 Brad Michael Moore

My interest in Arnold was an act of desperation.
I am a life-long Visual Artist, now 67 years-old. A photographic Analog Colorist in the small, medium, up to 4X5 inch sheet film formats. In the mid-1980's - I had a vision over the future of my work. I knew I needed to step forward into the upcoming, Digital Realm, and I began a plan to reach it just as soon as it became affordable to me - 10 to 15+ years in the future.
I decided to create and organize a library of images - both my creations, and a collection of images in the Public Domain. As soon as technology permitted me - I would begin, Digitizing my Library. Once that was well along the way - well - that's where faith & vision come together... I had to trust I'd know where to go with this effort as soon as It had reached its critical mass.
I had a friend who was Microsoft Certified that went into business for himself as an Enterprise Installer of small Server Systems to run small single schools, churches, and such. I began developing proficiency in PhotoShop as soon as it arrived to market [1993-95]. I also went to a local State University [UNT] to take on AutoCad, and brush up on my art basics - since I was self-taught.
My friend, for over 20 years, always kept my computers and software updated. As I increased my proficiencies' - I developed a new style of art I dubbed, "Hybrid Digital Artifacts!" Using the .tiff file, I create my new art by collecting numerous examples of art - stacked into layers, where after - I took portions of different layers - for color, texture, contrast, and line - to create a "new" work of art. As I developed my skills, I became proficient at, 'Digital Painting,' and in later works - I no longer had a great need for my library anymore - except to fulfill specific purposes.
As technology proceeds - old software becomes obsolete - or at least - unavailable to consumers as corporate providers continue to update to newer versions of their wares, & make the consumer buy those newer updates - as they quit servicing older versions. I would use Microsoft, & my friend, as my two most crucial elements to my art from here out... As every new Version of Microsoft that was released {MS-95, 98, WinNT, 2000, XP etc...} My friend would carry me onward - along with all of my old software & filters I had purchased, & used over the years  moving them into the new, upgraded systems - so I could continue to work with the tools that, Brung me!"
When 2019 rolled around - my newest Dell Tower was updated to 'MS 365 Enterprise.' After 20 years - my friend, apparently having marriage issues, or the like, disappeared from the face of this earth. Then, my computer began warning me of immanent shutdown and loss of OS data. I began to panic - I couldn't find my Computer Master. I began asking around - & discovered my last upgrade was "Subscription Software" - for Commercially Licensed Enterprises - a point never explained to me. I live in a rural area, and the few people working commercially, here, do not even have a need for my profile... They serve rural communities using Windows 2010 & Win-10 Professional - both lightweights to my operating system. I finally contacted Microsoft. They were not amused that I had MS 365 Enterprise running on my system as an individual. They said they'd get back to me.
Meanwhile, I found a small group who said they could install the Win-10-P on a second unused Drive - to maintain the data (old software & filters) on my 1st Drive. This would require changing the Drives internally - so that the computer would see my F-drive as my C-drive. This takes some guru work to reapportion drive space and names. The top tech was to do this task, but, while on a long lunch-break - an underling, with nothing to do, and thinking to gain favor by helping his superior reduce his work load - took my machine and copied the downgrade Win-10-P over my critical 'Original "C" Drive...' All my working software & filters maintained, and grown through the years - that gave my art it's, 'Fingerprint,' was forever lost...
After getting the bad news. I got another call - from Microsoft - saying - They would give me a, 'Small Business Status,' & gave me a Vendor's phone number, in Chicago, who would sell me a MS 365 Enterprise License for 2 to 4 years - for either several thousand dollars - to several, several thousand dollars...  Were it that my imprisoned, 'Original Drive,' was still intact - with all of its data  years foraged in being collected - then, putting up several grand would have been well worth it. Unfortunately, it was a day too late though.
So, in desperation, I investigated Arnold to see if it could help me begin again... It didn't seem apparent it could. So - I have retired from my quest.
Brad Michael Moore
Perrin, TX 76486 UDA

"A Found Gift, and a Lost Memory" - Brad Michael Moore
October 23, 2019

                                                        "A Found Gift - a Lost Memory" -  Brad Michael Moore

The Majestic Theater - known as a contributing property to the Harwood Street Historic District, in Downtown Dallas [1925 Elm St. TX] was shuttered, on July 16, 1973, after the final showing of the James Bond Series film, "Live and Let Die." This Landmark had seen a variety of acts - from the great Harry Houdini, to the sultry Mae West, and American Comedic giant Bob Hope. Around 1922, Hollywood Films were added to the regular vaudeville offerings. The theater had an organ near Stage Right, in the very front of the seating. The organist always accompanied the Silent Film fare, and entertained guests during intermissions, & as pre-entertainment before each event's main attraction. When the theater began hosting movie premieres, the public would be treated to gala affairs with such luminaries - such as Jimmy Stewart, Gregory Peck, and John Wayne. Musically, there were bookings of Big Bands featuring the likes of Cab Calloway and Duke Ellington - you just had to dance in your seats - sometimes the isles, and the lobbies. 

After finally closing, the Majestic was re-purchased in 1975. After full funding was arranged, the theater was eventually completely restored as a new performing arts venue. The original Corinthian columns, balustrades, urns, and trellises of the auditorium were restored and repainted. 23K gold leaf was reapplied to all the original murals and architectural motifs, and other interior decorative accents. New, larger, more comfortable seating was installed - reducing the number of seats the Majestic could hold from 2,400 to 1,570 seats. This decision allowed for the creation of an enlarged orchestra pit. The entire second balcony was converted to a central engineering control room when the theater's new, 'State-of-the-Art' sound and lighting systems could be managed. The first balcony was refitted to accommodate highly sought-after box seating. The stage was given a soft resilient floor - suitable for dance performances - while the entire backstage space was upgraded and expanded. In 1977, the Majestic Theater became the first Dallas building to be listed on the National Register of Historic Places. It received a Texas Historical Commission marker in 1983. The theater was reopened on January 28, 1983. 

Professional Photographers, my partner, Douglas. E. Tomlinson, and I, were hired early - to photograph the Majestic's interior destruction. I mentioned the aspects they saved - but one specific thing thrown away - were all the 9 x 13 inch Stained-glass 'Exit Signs!' Unbelievably, in almost complete darkness - I found one sign facile near the top of the rumble pile - it was in perfect condition! So, I began digging around, and I was lucky enough to find one more, mostly intact, companion piece - among the many more completely destroyed examples. It was a nearly-perfect conditioned partner piece!

I took the treasures home, & later, I got the broken one repaired at a Painted Glass Shop in the Olla Podrida - once called the, "The Working Artists Place," it was comprised of three old airport hangers, attached side by side - connected, and converted, into a smorgasbord collection of artisan shops. There were hippie clothiers, glass-blowers, landscape artists, people who made things with rope & metals, Rock Shops, jewelers, candy-makers, small restaurants, tea & coffee Shoppes, and a hip Hair Salon, "Tully's,"  among the multi-craft Shoppes tenants.

Located at 12215 Coit Road & Forest Lane, Olla Podrida became a, 'Landmark of Culture,' to Dallas, for the not-near-decade it operated, but alias, the property was eventually sold to commercial developers to build a Hebrew School... Such a space to replace this landmark for the Dallas's creative community was never considered. It was a real blow to Big Ds reputation of coming out of the dark ages, and providing its citizens access to its community's artisans. The almighty power of the buck starts, again - here.

The relationship to this whole summation of a part of Dallas's History came about because of a line uttered on a Vlog created by Texas YouTuber Guru Joe Scott, who surmises, "Our memories are really - the memories of the last time we remembered the event we are now remembering...! Wow... So, I gave the unrepaired, 'Best' Exit Sign to my best friend - He & his wife were connoisseurs of many fine things. Some near 20 years later, I visited my friends. I noticed a blond-wood shallow light box had been created for my 'Historic' soldered metal & colored glass antique gift - which I had once given to my best friend. Very proudly, my friend then began to tell me a, 'completely false' new history of this gift - its origins, and how he improved its function! I was flabbergasted! He no longer has a single fact right. I had told him the complete history of the piece when I gave it to him - now he didnt even remember it was me - who gave him this gift! I was heart-broken... I did not correct him. - © 2017 Brad Michael Moore

"Freedom's Lease"
October 09, 2019

"Perrin Farm Giant Sunflower" © 1998 Brad Michael Moore

I once felt I was born 50 years too soon, and that, as an artist - I'd rather been born in the days of Picasso, & Ansel Adams. The

height of time's that were solely Analog!  But, in order to feel less encumbered by the backwards nature of our kind, and it's true

history - I'd have to tow my history and knowledge!  I would have had to been born into money, and live in Paris, NYC, or in

isolation - like a true, "Jeremiah Johnson Mountain Man!" I would also need to keep a hold of my education, access to the best

materials offered in the times, & somehow keep my modern sensibilities. I really believe though, listening to this accounting - no one

really ever would want to go back to where so many rights and freedoms were yet to exist!  Tis' only in a novelist's scheme where

this would work - but never in any certain reality!  We live with the freedoms we fought so hard to acquire, & never could we settle

for less! This is why Trump is doomed in his end - a free society will never give up it's 'Freedom's Lease' to a tyrant - and no one

ever truly wants to return to the days when we were [Oz] great (again). Fact is - we still have a good ways to go to meet our best

expectations...  The only truly great things about our past times - were the air, the water, the lack of chemicals in everything we

smell, touch, eat, & breath today!  The Glass Ceiling has still not been completely broken - even yet, and now, Climate Disruption

may make all of our dreams, and all of our freedoms gained - a moot point. Today, the wealthiest of this world's corporate and

individual thieves will still continue to line their pockets with the silver of all of our eventual fortunes - until we perish all


"Terminal Lucidity"
May 11, 2019

"Gwendolyn Erline Moore, at 16"

"The Miracle of Gwendolyn's Terminal Lucidity"

'The 12th Day'

by Brad Michael Moore

My mother, who passed away from multiple natural causes, including being a 4.5 year Survivor of Breast Cancer (Right Radical Mastectomy), Reoccurring Pneumonia, Dementia - possible Alzheimer's, & Nursing Home protected Elder Abuse, by an aide (she was immediately moved to a new facility). In that second Home - my mother lived her last 4.5 months of hours.

Gwendolyn was unconscious for the last 16 days of her life - all but for the exception of a period of - less than 2 hours - on the 12th Day of her last, long sleep... On that day, 4+ days before her, 'Physical Death," and 2 days before her, "Spiritual Death," Gwen had an, "Awakening - a short period of, Terminal Lucidity!"

"Back Story"

In early January, of 1999 - I was at my farm - over 100 miles away - on the day my Grandmother, 'Mimi,' fell in her backyard... I received very strong, distinct, "Impression," from Mimi - almost immediately, and began trying to raise her by telephone - she did not pick up. This was not exactly unusual... Sometimes, when, 'Telephone Solicitors,' would harass her - she'd stuff her bedroom phone in a dresser drawer, and I would drive all the way to her home - to make sure she was OK. Mimi would eventually forget what she did, & never (later), hear legitimate telephone calls either! 

On the day I felt that impression - it was so strong - I called my mother, Gwen. She was immediately concerned, and asked me to drop by her farm - pick her up, and we'd both drive to Dallas together.

Upon our arrival, Mimi's house windows were all closed up, and Mimi's doors were also locked. I was able to stand on a back porch chair and peek through a high window... I quickly spotted Mimi's legs on the kitchen floor. I immediately broke the window above her kitchen sink (the smallest window I could break, and still fit through...)! Mimi had fallen - maybe 12 hours earlier, and had crawled more than 75 feet - over yard, brick, and concrete steps - to reach her house. She kicked the pre-locked kitchen door shut with her foot after she had successfully crawled all the way inside. Mimi was still conscious when we found her, but, she was suffering, 'Full-on Laryngitis'. Apparently, after her fall - she hollered out for help, in her backyard, for a good while, sorrowfully - no one in the neighborhood answered her pleas! The kitchen phone was mounted up high upon the wall, by the kitchen door, so, Mimi could not reach it... However, as 'unexplainable' as it is - I had, 'heard her call,' anyways...

Within the first 24 hours, at the hospital, Mimi had quickly captured something terrible - I had never heard of, the physician called it, "Hospital-acquired Pneumonia." The doctor advised us my Grandmother had, at best, 36 hours left to live - not even long enough for Mimi to ever regain her voice - so we could talk. Mimi was admitted to the hospital on an early Friday Afternoon, fell unconscious late Saturday afternoon, and passed away the following Sunday afternoon. I saw Mimi take her last breath of life...

"Terminal Lucidity! - 2013"

It had been eleven days since my mother had been conscious, and had eaten her last meal. I had Hospice Care in addition to what the Nursing Home was providing. In those last 6 weeks of Gwen's life - I had purchased a, "LazyBoy" Chair, and two end tables. I replaced the room's other furniture with my own, and set it up confronting the right-side of her hospital bed - allowing enough room not to interfere with aides and nurses going about their business. I slept in Gwen's room every night of those last near-six weeks. I spent most of the daytime hours with mom too - for over the final 10.5 years of her life. Suffering from increasing Dementia, and always a, "Fall Risk," - there was no other choice - no family, available, and a "Full-time,' nurse was unaffordable...

Gwen passed away on a Sunday - the day after St. Valentine's Day, 2015, and two days after Friday the 13th - {the day she spiritually passed away}... So, on that last Wednesday, of her last week of Gwen's life - it began like so many others. I awakened. The home aide brought her breakfast {they always served her meals - believing that, sometimes, just the habit of bringing her meals, routinely, might jog her awake}. On this Wednesday, I took my usual notes on Gwen's condition - checking the temperature of her limbs, and looking for Rapid-eye movement. Mom had been constantly moving her pupils beneath her very transparent, thin, eyelids - so, it was easy to see she was still, "with us!" 

At mid-morning, I decided to run down the Boulevard - to find me a, 'Fast Food Breakfast.' The menu closed at 11:AM. I ate my food driving back to the nursing home. What I found, upon my return was the following, very ethereal event...  As I approached my mother's room, in Hall # 3, I noticed there was no one at the front desk - in fact - I didn't see any staff - just residents on the entry area couches. When I reached my mom's room - her door was being held open by the last remains of many people - who all seemed to have been spilling into my mother's room! I was bewildered - what was going on? Someone at the door announced, "Her Son has returned! It appeared nearly every employee of the nursing home was in my mother's room - both nursing and even some administration...

As I tried to get to my mother's bed - on the far side of the room, suddenly, I heard my mother's voice! "Gwen," who, in the previous years, had lost the majority of her hearing, her voice, her sight, her mobility, and, as a result of the abuse at the previous nursing home - she had lost the abilities of her right hand - her writing hand, her hand to eat with, as well... As I reached the end of my mother's bed - I found mom there - at the head of her bed, sitting up, 'alertly' - talking, quipping, and laughing with all of these nursing home people... Gwen seemed to believe she knew them all! Many of them, apparently, knew what they were witnessing, "Terminal Lucidity," which, I could see - they were interpreting - as a, 'Miracle!'. As I quickly approached, I kissed my mother on her forehead - she said, "Brad, you look so tired, sit down, in your chair - I tried it out a few minutes ago - it is so comfortable!" So, apparently, Mom had been out of her bed, and I missed that... Then an employee said proudly - "She's eating her 'Second' breakfast plate, we've prepared for her!

I was in shock, I felt like this was a, "Stage Play," where I had forgotten my lines! Everyone continued to laugh at my mother's humor, and I was just as astonished as they all were - that mom seemed not to be suffering from any of her physical losses - it was so unbelievable! Mom asked me about her other two sons, and had a few more bites of food - at the staff's insistence - {they really wanted her to eat}! Then, suddenly, after what seemed like an unscheduled 'period of timelessness', Mom suddenly said she was full, and was ready to rest a bit... Within ten minutes - she was sound asleep - and would never awake again...

Slowly, everyone left the room and returned to their responsibilities... One woman said, gently to me, "We don't often get to see this kind of event - but, it does happen, and, we all have our stories - now, you have yours!" 

- Brad Michael Moore {My accounting from Wednesday, February 11th,  2015.}


"Gwendolyn at 85"

"Wherever the Wind Blows!"
December 22, 2018

I've been 2 weeks in the field in the sunny, but windy afternoons -
going from one patch of tall-stem Blue Grass, and 'other native tall
stem grasses' in my Grassland Field - they all, after the 1st freeze [
I've had a number of those] produce 'Fluffy Seed' clusters at the
tip-tops of their stems... I lightly grasp each stem below the seed
cluster, and then do an upper sweeping stroke - which relieves the stem
of all it's fluffy seeds into my hand. Then, I throw them all into the
gusty winds, and allow them to spread these newly-freed seedling fliers -
to sail off into the other regions of my field that the winds may carry
them! It allows the specie's seeds to be spread far more efficiently
than if dislodged naturally - which would happen closer to the ground -
limiting the reach & range of how far the tiny seedlings can go.
Lifting, and releasing, them an extra 3 or 4 feet in the air - on a very
gusty day - allows these seedlings to really spread out farther down
range... On every day that is suited - sunny [near comfortable] and
windy - the winds will be blowing a slightly different direction. Since
the grass clusters are spread out - often many yards apart - it takes
weeks to cover the 22 or so acres that comprise my Native Texas
Grassland Certified Field. It's a new way of being a, 'Johnny
Appleseed," I just envisioned this year - after I recognized how far
apart each plant was. I hope next year - my efforts this past month, or
so, will propagate a much thicker, greater amount of species growth I
can recognize next year, and, if I'm right - then I will repeat this
process again - over these next few years - to literally populate my
entire field with my most favorite grasses! It makes for great activity -
2 hours a day for maybe a month - at my age - daily activity is so
important, and this is non-stress activity, meditative, and my dog gets
the benefits as well - as she love to rustle up quail, dove,
meadowlarks, and rabbits - whilst I work. This is my idea of
'entertainment' and having a good time. 

Earlier, I spread about 2,000
Plum seeds I harvested from my best, 'Hybrid Plum Tree' - which really
went bonkers with the plums this year! I figured it must have gotten
just the right amount of rain and sun at just the most perfect times,
this last late winter, spring, and early summer - to produce just a
bumper crop - like none I have ever seen before. So, I figured - those
plums must have really great seeds in them - and, believing that so - I
collected falling fruit for about the 3+ weeks it took for the tree to
drop all it's loot, and I would plant those [throw out at night] - in
open areas - since I have learned, from observation, that the tree
naturally liked to drop it's daily offerings at about 4 am in the
mornings. That's usually my bedtime - so I had to readjust my sleeping
schedule for a month - and now - I'll have to wait a couple years to see
if my, 'Plum-crazy idea,' takes to sprouting successfully in the
near-future! It would be wonderful, in a decade or so, to have a meadow
full with a thousand plum trees blooming out their beautiful lacy white
flowers every spring! It could even become an attraction to the road
travelers - who go passing by on the highway that affronts my property's
western boundary... I figure it's always good to plan out for things to
look forward to - at this time of life... I never had kids to watch
grow - so I have always had to settle for trees, and lesser natural
niceties! - Brad


Sing This While Im Doing You Doggy-style, Please!
December 16, 2018

"61st Redemption," © 2018 Brad Michael Moore

"Sing This While I'm Doing You Doggy-style, Please!"

{Angry Lyric}

I Was Barely Nine - I Was Turning Seventeen - Growing Up Too Fast ­- I Asked, "What Does Life Mean?"

The Earth - it kept on spinning - though I couldnt sleep, or sane-dream.
I lost JFK, RFK, and my dear Martin Luther King!
Now, how was I to grow - my greatest leaders - all cut down?
My heart said, "Don't you know? You gotta keep your game in-bounds!"
"Protect those thoughts you have - but be careful of what you say,"
"There are dragons behind you - seeking tinder to burn away!"

The best that I could do - was to picture what I was -
Words got in my way - while images were filling these walls...
I somehow missed the, 'Draft' - before South Vietnam would fall -
Four kids died at Kent State - for just walking down a mall.
Freak flags became targets - 'Freedom of Speech,' never obeys...
Music became our motto, and LSD would reign our days!

Gone were the times we stored Coke-a-Cola by D.D.T.
Our doors that once were open - are now double dead-locked with a key.
Kids who once roamed these neighborhoods - in gangs of bicycles,
Are good old times forgotten, now - where paranoia rules the day...
Wasn't it Frank Sinatra who sang, "I Did It My Way!?"
Are we not all to blame - hiding our truths while, "Our Culture's on display?"


Brad Michael Moore 12-14-18

The Monophonic to Stereo Age...
November 22, 2018

I was born in 1952 - very much in the age of Monophonic Sound Reproduction - on radio, TV, even records. As I grew into my early teens, The Beatles came upon the Music Scene. I was several years too young to catch a ride on the, "Elvis Train," and so I easily latched onto the Beatles - when they came to the forefront of the emerging, new, "Pop Culture." In those early years - I listened to music more via local radio stations, and TV programing like - "The Ed Sullivan Show!" I remember spending the night over my grandmother's home - where she had a nice, plugin - small, but powerful transistor table radio - about 10 inched long, 5 - 6 inches high and 4 - 5 inches deep! It was a maroon plastic encased device - two speakers - but monophonic sound reproduction!

I'll always remember the first time I heard the Beatle's, "I Wanna Hold Your Hand!" The Beatles opened up my mind, and young life, to all the possibilities of youthful imagination and enthusiasm! Stereophonics came along with the Beatles as they headed into Musical History. Their first two albums were released in Mono ["Please Please Me," 22 March 1963, (mono), "With The Beatles," 22 November 1963, (mono),] and thereafter, all of their releases were recorded in Stereo, beginning with, "Meet the Beatles," followed by, "A Hard Day's Night," 10 July 1964, "Beatles For Sale," 4 December 1964, "Help!," 6 August 1965, "Rubber Soul," 3 December 1965, "Revolver," 5 August 1966, and then - their monumental stereo musical album - "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band," released on the first of June 1967. Stereo devices became a necessity to music lovers!

I remember, growing up in a large city, Dallas, where two Gordon McClendon radio stations began experimental radio broadcasting by doing weekend stereo broadcasting of, "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band," in a very cool way - on one of their AM stations, KLIF, they would broadcast the 'Left Channel mono signal' of the musical LP, and on their new, "FM(*)," Radio Station, KVIL, they broadcasted the Right Channel mono signal, simultaneously! All you needed were two radios, home, or portable transistor radios, and you and friends or family could hear a live Stereo Broadcast! It brought a musical community together, and truly launched an international public desire for Stereophonic Play devices! Pretty cool in the day! (*) The first FM Radio Stations were all broadcasting in Monaural - but theyre quality of broadcast was much higher. Meanwhile, the range of area they could broadcast to - was much smaller than AM stations - the older technology. However, broadcasters knew, as technology grew - they would be capable of broadcasting in stereo! Although, they do not gain all the credit - the Beatle's music provided the vehicle [their recorded music, and the public who would purchased it] to create a, 'Both Sides of the Pond,' profit potential - leading to greater commercial investment towards musical production and broadcasting in general.


November 17, 2018

Mediocrity. It is a hard word to say. It is especially difficult
when you apply it to your life, and the style of meaning that has led
you through your long and winding existence... Then, like blood spurting
out of a badly ripped hole - torn into your tender flesh by a
splintered tree limb - one you just so happened to stumble into! Then,
thats when you suddenly see the frailty of it all! Such a small thing
can literally bring you to a stand-still, and you see it - Mediocrity. If you got mauled by a Grizzly, or run over by a bulldozer, and survived - folk would say - "Wow! That was something - you must led a special kind of existence to survive that! ("…Oh, what a lucky man he was...") But me, I get bent out of shape when I get splintered by a tree limb!"


People are so much more alike than they realize. Some live for their god of worship, others - capitalism. Some just want to raise children, some want to build buildings, or led people on their quest to accomplish - accomplish anything - just some meaningful of purpose to them, that fires up their passion!


Being an artist is so much like being a person of faith. You
believe in some magical mystery manifestation, and creating it from your
intellect of experience will be the primary reason for every decision
you make - or have others make for you - or with you. It still really comes down to that one specific aspect of your nature - that forces you onward - if not towards an exact literal perfection, at least towards one that meets a specific level of substantiation - you feel is worthy of you effort, your name, and your reputation...


Every Tradesman holds a deep pride in the product that comes into your hands - either because you paid, or bartered with them, to recreate their specialty for you, and, maybe -
it is the best work of its kind they have ever completed, or, maybe
their best work is now far behind them, and you both come to an
agreement based on reputation, and ones idea of the value of their


Many artisans work a lifetime and are never recognized for their work. Then they die in some tragic or heroic way...
Then, a public interest develops in the nature of the work that
consumed the artist throughout their lives. They never see the fruits of
their labor - and someone else does. More likely, you will die, and
someone comes in to but the fixtures, furniture, and all the valuable or
not-so-valuable kick-knacks you collected through a lifetime of
defining yourself by the processions you collected to surround yourself
with. In your home - has become the environment - adorned with those special gem-of-finds that fit in with your personality, memorabilia that paints a picture of a person's soul. So often, that will be lost -
just like the art, or stolen by collectors of shiny objects five
fingers can sort away into some small well of a place. But you - you are gone. What was it all for? Who will find your spiritual muse, and artifacts, before they run asunder - or are splintered by an arbitrary tree limb?


An Old WordPress Blog...
June 20, 2018

My last post, on WordPress, was 6 years ago [2010] - but I am here [the day after my 64th Birthday]. I had to help my mother Pass Away - that took years longer than I could have ever imaged... So I went into, Shock Survivor Mode - I kept thinking art, and making it - but my output was greatly diminished for a few years. I spent a lot of time documenting those days, and experiences, both for legal reasons, as much as for future needs beyond the present awareness I was then functioning under. 

When I did post - it went to this Website: Alphasight.com I have always felt a need to document elements of life surrounding me - if not as artistic expression, then as a record I hope to glean deeper meaning from in future introspection. Life is what it is - our destiny is never truly as we wish, or hope for - it is just as pure and convoluted as it can be. How we face our lives - with the hand we are dealt is, finally, how we come to understand meaning, and the purpose of our truth. I am crawling back into the creative mode I fell out of - but, I always expected to. 

It is not the first time I have fallen - in these 57 creative years out of my, now, 64 year-old life... I remember when digital photography cameras became cheap enough to come into the hands of those - other than the highest paid of professionals. When, in the mid-90's - a 9+ to 15 Megapixel Nikon would cost $50,000.00 [not including lens]. National newspaper editorial & sport departments, or the biggest of regional players - would have a couple cameras each... The photographers who got to use those cameras - where the only photographer's in that business, who were really making a salaried living everyone else dreamed of... I took my first meaningful photograph in 1957 - at the age of 5. Having a career spanning 59 years, now, has got to have it's share of up's and downs. I was shooting professionally before I was twenty. I have lived and learned the Analog Method of my field of endeavor, and I have watched the Digital Method overcome the Analog Method of capturing creativity. First it came in the music recording studio, and then the slow overtaking of the Analog Method of Photography. Digital printing was the big disappointment - it never really happened - so the Pigmented Ink Process was adopted, and adapted, to complete the cycle of the digital photography process. 

Today, the invent of moving digital photography has sprouted into the growth of a new age of communications - taken to heart some Baby-Boomers, and Gen-X, and finally, the Millennials. The Millennials - who were raised from birth, into Digital Age - are redefining all the rules. For the most part, children of talent, growing up as Baby-Boomers, we were were shunned, and ignored. Music became our way to break away from a confining society. Both society [its government] and Boomers - were all near-completely intolerant of one another's ideologies. Just study John Lennon's life, living in America (to his death, in 1980) as an example of the turbulence of the times... The Millennials are the first Generation, of Americans, who cannot rely on their elder generations to so succinctly help them find their future. Organically - they help themselves as Technology is their Third Eye. Therefore, all bets are off as the outcome for their generation - it will come as a surprise to everyone who witnesses it... As for me - I'm trying the finished my final chapters - that shall be tempered by the forging of all the new reaches of technology, and the spectral ways they are used by my fellow humans.

Brad Michael Moore, July 3, 2016

"A Simple Platform!"
January 20, 2018

"Runner," © 1993 Brad Michael Moore

A Simple Platform!"  by Brad Michael Moore  20 Jan. 2018

(Patricia Zello commented, "Ive come up with a totally radical solution to all the political problems! Representatives find out what the MAJORITY of their constituents want, and they create legislation and VOTE ACCORDINGLY! Wow! Do you think it would work?")

"Of course it would! Where the Trumpians, and the first [before] Tea Party made their mistakes - they wanted to [and presently Trump's Cabinet is doing] tear down our entire Government - as if that were a "SANE' solution! Today, the world is filled with many more dispot countries than Democracies! If they see a weak Democracy they can take advantage of - they will! Believe me, there are such adversaires, today, plotting against a perceived weakened American Government! 

People must understand - We All Need Government - but it is up to each and everyone one us to make sure we are placing people - the right people, into offices (Positions of Power) who have made promises that the People's Interests - are the only interests they are going into government to exercise! The first way to begin that task is to vote for those who's core belief is - "We gotta get money out of politics - PERIOD!" This is not rocket Science, but, we have an even bigger issue - with our Supreme Court. It will take some time to turn them bad boys over - as we root for RBG to outlast the dope in the White House. 

Everybody's vote counts - and we cannot afford to become complacent after we win a great Blue Wave Election - we are going to need several 'continuous decades' of Wave Elections, until this Blue Wave becomes a Red, White, & Blue Wave - where most everybody, in America, will stand as Patriots - facing the world as 'United!' - as a single Force to champion the good side of our human nature. 

When New Government takes control of the reigns - Big Corporations will have to fall in line - [being in the process - their money will no longer be even legal in Washington D.C.] Take away the Special Interests, take money out of politics!

Create a Single Payer System of HealthCare for All Americans. Re-fund programs to educate, and re-educate the poor, and those needing it - like people who serve our country. 

Let's even make it a choice that every young adult who graduates from High School takes off two years to participate in Community Service, locally, or state-wide, or nation-wide, and World-wide. 

Tax the private Institutions to give more funding to State Institutions - to create parity in our education system, while bringing down the cost of that education, and increasing grant programs so All can afford the best education as possible! 

Make all student loans interest-free - and all interest already paid towards current student loans be reapplied to their principal owed, and create grant programs for those already saddled with old student loans that will lessen or payoff those debts! 

All Americans deserve an education of equal value weather you are rich or poor. The richest can feel free to send their children abroad, and wate their money there, but they will not come home with a better education than those who got theirs here - at home in America! 

Pay Primary Teachers their true value - make being a teacher a desirable vocation again. 

These are needs that must become a promise we make to ourselves, and we must demand of those, we put into government office, to pledge this promise to us too! 

Let us choose not to fight with swords, but come together with grace - which, hand in hand, will make America, once again, the greatest nation in the world, only this time - our words must be made to stand true - home of the free, where liberty and justice, fairness and goodwill, are our creed!" - bmm


A Painting is a Painting
January 19, 2018

"Outside of What I See," © 2018 Brad Michael Moore

"A Painting is a Painting, & a Giclée May be an Original Work of Art!"   

by Brad Michael Moore 19 Jan. 2018

A painting is a painting - a Giclée of a painting is a Giclée of a painting! Don't scorn the Giclée as an overall 'lesser,' artistic rendering because someone used it to reproduce a painting - that reproduction just becomes a, '2nd generation of the Original' - born of another medium... 


However, if you are a Creator of Digital Artifacts - which have their own 'unique set' of original qualities - you, 'Can Not,' represent it - as a painting. The, 'Original Rendering,' of the 1st Giclée printed, from its Digital File, has an advantage over the 'Original Painting's 1st reproduction' - the, 'Digital Artifact,' in its second, and all following printings - will be as perfect as it's original print! At least, for as long as the 'Original File' is not corrupted, or, it also has many backup file copies. 


An original painting is an, "One of a Kind," and can never be reproduced as well as it was, 'Originally Painted.' This is a fundamental fact that is considered 'truth!' When determining the actual value of a, "One of a Kind,"  work of art - be it a painting, Drawing, etc. - even the Artist of a Digital Artifact can affect the value of their first printing of their original, 'Digital Artifact,' - simply by destroying the, "Original File!" - after it's original is printed... Thereafter - that, "Original Digital Artifact Rendering," must, next, be copied - likely digitally, but, maybe by film, and any reproduction of that work, in the future, in any medium, will be a 'Copy' of the original artwork! It's price will be based, first, on the fact it is a, "Copy," - then, all the other variables that may come into play. Main considerations are - the artist's fame, weather they are living, or not, the art's size, method of reproduction - [mechanical, or human] - and, reputations! If by machine (is it, 'State of the Art,' at the time of printing? [Date Notated]) - and the Printer 'themselves' - the reputation of their skills & experience, and their knowledge of both - the medium they work with (Giclée Printing Skills,) and their accessibility to the original work of art. Still, then, they will only be able to reproduce the effect of the painter's strokes, & match, as perfectly as possible, the pigment color, contrast, etc. 


The "Reproduced," work may be, 'so strong,' - it can still stand for itself (in the eyes of the beholder,) but, there is only, "One Original!" Why are some villainous individuals, in this world, who believe there can only be value in the original? They will risk their lives - or the lives of others, and spend millions of dollars - just so they, alone, can have that original…?!

As an artist of Hybrid Digital Artifacts, - I only have to decide if I will destroy the original file - after it has been perfectly reproduced, for the first time, and the buyer agrees to reward me handsomely!





- ___ -

"The Long Slogging..." by Brad Michael Moore
January 13, 2018

"I'll Be Climbing Up That Hill!" © 2018 Brad Michael Moore

In 2004, after my mom's husband died, her doctor told me he figured she had 6 months to live - if she stayed out on their farm - the road dust had her in a state of chronic pneumonia. So I moved her to my home -where I had built a manufactured home specifically for her - all 6' windows, extra exit door to the outside from the Master Bedroom - in case of a fire in front - where the other two standard front & back doors are. I became her, "Sole Caregiver," legally. The doctor was right about the road dust - she lived in a 90-100 year-old house less that 25 yards from a rock road. Back when the old country house was built - it was horse and buggy days... Today, with private rodeo rings peppered into the backroads Cowboy estates, and with several decades of severe oil & gas exploration - long trailers hooked to giant trucks, and O&G Industry running drill rigs and tons of water trucks bringing in fresh water and taking fracked carcinogenic water out - all going 45 to 65 MPH! Well, you can imagine what a dry day, and a south wind brings to a house on the north side of the road - plus, their bedroom was in front of the house - with a view of the front porch, and the road 25 yards beyond!!!

My mom lived with her 3rd husband for near 29-years. He turned out to be a psycho and a mental abuser, who treated my mom as his personal servant all that time. She had to cook him 3 meals a day - red meat, butter, bread, cream [ice cream or dairy cream] were always required. Anything goes wrong - a steak gets over-cooked, wtf - he'd rage and vent, and demean... Wes was known to force mom out of the truck on many a dark night - unto a dark and dusty road if he got pissed at her, and shes having to walk home, or depend on the kindness of strangers. Wes would some lock her up in the washroom for hours - no bigger than a closet - with a washer & dryer included. Her friends, and my family begged her for years to leave him - it was like "Stockholm Syndrome," I once got her to move into a house the elderly lady next door to me had on her property. Still she went back - and, at first, Wes made sure she took all of her cats with her, but, when he allowed her back - she couldn't bring her cats back - so we had to pay an extra 6 months rent for the cats to live in their own country home for a half a year, and guess who had to feed them - since he'd hardly ever let her out of their house to go visit her cherished animals. Finally, country rumors got around over how Wes was - and then he allowed her to bring her cats home... 

So, when I said I built her a house next to my own - I didn't mention I actually built it in 2003 - while Wes was alive - once again - to give my mom another opportunity to get out permanently. Mom was ill all the time & Wes wouldn't always allow her medical attention when she needed it. This whole scenario is what got me to leave Dallas to begin with in 1993. I knew that male abusers picked out women with poor male family structure. Mom's father was dead - no brothers, and three sons to the wind. I know if I move out close enough to her to keep a close eye on them - It would intimidate Wes like hell, and, I would be able, just by my presence, lessen his abusive behavior. Wes immediately threatened my life, and I had to get a Restraining Order warranted against him. It was a bad situation - to put it mildly. 

As luck would have it [for Mom] Wes had a heart-attack in mid-2003. They called me to their house late one evening. As soon as I got there, (I had some Medical Training, from working a stint with the TDC [Texas Department of Corrections - now renamed] and so I was able to do a quick medical assessment with both tools & knowledge I had, and medical instruments they had around their house - they were both in bad health. I quickly determined Wes has suffered a Cardiac Event & immediately call EMS - who took Wes to Palo Pinto Hospital - where they helicoptered Wes to Harris, Fort Worth, where he underwent multiple Bypass surgery - Can't remember - but it was 3-5 bypasses. So, now, I am taking care of both Wes and Mom. She could drive, but not really, - except locally. So I did the doctor appointments for the both of them, and grocery shopping as well. Wes was on Warfarin (Coumadin), which has some severe dietary restrictions. But Wes had to eat what he always ate [as described somewhere above]... So, about 9 months later {4/'04] I get another call from mom asking me to come over to the house - Wes was acting funny. So I went over again and did another assessment, and it appeared to me Wes was Stroking. I immediately called EMS [which was what they should have done both times!] and they came and carted Wes off to Palo Pinto again - with us not to far behind. At PPGH, they stabilized Wes by 1:30 am that morning, and suggested we go home & catch our rest - which is what they said Wes needed too. At 10 the next morning the doctors called and asked us to get there as soon as possible. Sometime in the hour or so before we returned, Wes had a major Stroke. I knew he was gone as soon as I saw him, but it took till 3:30, that afternoon, for the rest of his body to figure out what I already knew - and finally let him go. His entire body - from the neck down was an ashen yellow color, but from the neck up to the top of his head was so red as to almost be purple. 

So I take Mom home, and in two days she's in the hospital for exhaustion, pneumonia, and another host of issues that her doctor could now, more fully, attend to... This is when he gave me the "12-Week Notice..." Wes didn't have a Will, so under Texas Probate Law - Mom got 1/2 of everything, and Wes's only child - by his first marriage, got the other 1/2! His daughter wanted all the money she could get out of this transaction - so, we sold the farm, auctioned off all the farm equipment - I won't list all the equipment Wes had - let's just say it included a Cotton Gin... So, Mom moves to my place - which, luckily, I had had the foresight to be prepared for - having the extra house. The doctor was wrong about Mom's life expectancy. Living out from under the rule of a madman, and suddenly having no one to boss her around - and having a home where her pets could live in safety, and with a pond in the backyard - living off a paved highway - 1/4 mile from the house. I had just given my Mother Nirvana! This added 9 more years to the end of her life, and she spent most of it peaceful, happy, once again - a Mother Nature's Child. 

As time marched on, the years of abuse, being way over-weight, and getting Breast Cancer in 2010 all conspired against my mom. She survived the Cancer, and I had Home Health Care nurses 3 days a week, and some of mom's closest friends would also come on nurse's days off to spend time with mom and allow me to rest - something I had been year's going short of. You see, Mom, Gwendolyn [Gwen], had Onset Dementia, and likely Alzheimer's - which is not readily diagnosable - except by a brain autopsy. Jack County Resources Officer told me, when it became evident Gwen had become a, "Fall Risk," after a half dozen calls I had to make to EMS for their free, "Lift & Assist," runs - to come out and help me get mom up off the floor after a fall. She was still obese, had real bad knees, and no upper body strength - so when mom went down - she was hardly taller than you, she could not get back up on her own - plus she had so many issues with her neck, back & legs - it took two strong men to get her up - though I figured out a trick, using a rolled up sheet, to where - when she fell in a good place - near a bed or couch - I could sometimes get her up by myself. Eventually, I had to put her in a home, and those next 23 months were even more eventful as all the description above - so I won't go into that. My mother passed away on Sunday morning, February 15th, at 8:32 am, and I got to watch her last breath alone, with her. I also watched my mothers mothers final breath, in Dallas, at Baylor Hospital  back in 1999. I dont like seeing people die. Wes didnt fight near a hard as my grandmother, and my mom was the most stubborn of the three  she died the hardest death I have ever known, or heard about  her suffering was biblical…

My art, which suffer mightily - during the latter years, slowly began to return it's muse to me, and almost one year to the day of Gwen's passing away - I hit full-tilt-boggy! I have been creating art like gangbusters ever since. Just thought you might appreciate the story - it explains what happened to me. I am nothing like the being I use to be - I am a totally different man - with, perhaps, even more flaws than before - just different ones, mostly... I must also admit - I am a better Human Being for going through this experience. My mother gave me life! Giving her some of her' life back was a true pleasure for me.

Sincerely, Brad Michael Moore

"Feeding Time," © Guy Milton Moore

"Dream Angel," © 2010 Brad Michael Moore {Premonition}

The Hardest Thing - Cultural Change...
December 14, 2017

Spirit of an Acorn

"Spirit of the Acorn" © 2017 Brad Michael Moore

"Sorry May be the Hardest Word, But Changing Culture is even Harder and more Everset!" 

- by Brad Michael Moore 14 Dec. 2017

I just wonder how long this can go on - people coming out and revealing their past abuse and abusers. Folks really do need to settle their old scores, and express those deeds perpetrated against them into the light of our reality - pain they could never forget again, that has affected their lives, their point of view, their openness in public, and private - even situations pertaining to their personal comfort level in just being, and presenting themselves, as it would seem most natural for them to do so!

Every action will have an equal reaction, and this worries me. We do not want anyone to feel dismissed, so it seems that - ready or not, now, today, is the time to make your case... One year from now - how will our society have readjusted its moral standards? I worry Trump is going to mix mud into clear water in all things - especially those issues having nothing to do with him - or, which have everything to do with him! These are such, "Uncommon Times!" Let's get this all out, and clean things up at home, in our State Capitals, & Washington, D. C. Let us make a change in our culture!

Speak out now, if we need to, for there is no guarantee we even will ever have a another opportunity again as, 'ripe,' as this moment is, today, this month, and this year! Let this become the rule, and not the exception among our rules of our society! By 2020, I fear [or hope], we, as a society, will have closed the book over the ways these issues are handled...

It is very important - that when an, 'Individual's Actions,' - who is a President, a CEO, a sheriff, a reporter, an artist, a manager of any business, or anyone in a position to have subordinates -a parent {children are subordinates} - everyone, including our friends, must be judged by the same standards - for the levels of the inappropriateness they are accused of - if it is - provable in our best judgement - but, let's not have this Century's, "Salam," either...

However, where there is evidence, witnesses - there must also be those people 'closest to us' who can say, to themselves [or aloud], "I've known this all along, and how do I go forward, and be fair as possible - in all ways in which I am complicit by my past silence?" These, "Once-cloudy issues are now standing in the full light of day - showing us fairly irrefutable reasons, if needed - where we can make adjustments to our ways, and means, for comporting ourselves from this point on - to live in our finest skin.

Delete someone on our Friend or Contact's List if they really are 'not' our friend - maybe they will have to earn becoming our next, 'in lineder'... Life is just too precious, and too fleeting, to live it any other way going forward... The Truth is Out There {I believe it too, FM!} - But no kidding, let the dust be stirred, and then let the dust be settled - we cannot allow for the same old outcomes anymore - this is a new generation, and there are many new generations coming up behind it.

We, today, can settle some ground rules that generations tomorrow can function by... Up to us, so very soon...

I just knew this was gonna happen - but really, what are the odds, these days? Women have finally found their voice, their freedom from living in silence. What is depressing - the Glass Ceiling - it may still be there... While we think we are seeing an avalanche today - it is, truly, just a molehill. Still, many abused men and women, or young adults, and those yet to reach the Age of Consent, are still standing in their silence - still too fearful to face their nemesis! If you know one - try to help them come out. Let's see this really becomes a True Change in our Culture - the biggest kind of change humans can make is made amongst other humans - a True Change in our Culture - the kind that never recedes - only grows wider, and clearer every day...


November 22nd, 1963
November 24, 2017


 We all have moments frozen into our lives, moments merged into indelible memories.  Memories that are so ingrained in the fabric of our being - when we recall the moment, it replays in our minds - as if it were yesterday!  Sounds, feelings, circumstances, the song on the radio, or the program on TV - all fall immediately into focus.

 On Nov. 22, 1963, I lived in Dallas, Texas USA.  My elementary school was located on President John F. Kennedys Original Motorcade Route - for his visit to my hometown that day.

 Kennedys presidential race against Nixon, in 1960, was the first election I was old enough to follow and remember. I was very excited he would be coming by our school, and that we would get out of class for the opportunity to wave at the motorcade, as the president passed by.

 Needless to say, I was extremely disappointed to find out, at the last moment, that the President's Motorcade Route had been changed, to an alternate route from Love Field, to Downtown Dallas.  We would not be let out of class after all, and we wouldnt be seeing the President either.

 Even though radios were strictly forbidden in my elementary school, I had decided to secretly smuggle mine in that day. I left it in my locker, and only listened to it during passing periods. One friend, who lockered close to me, knew about it.

 We had been listening to events as broadcasted on, KLIF AM, the radio station where I would, in the next year or so, hear a Beatles Record played for the first time (I Wanna Hold Your Hand).  But, I never could have imagined what I was about to discover during my passing period after lunch on that day.

 My friend and I had our heads stuffed in my locker. The radio announcers voice became very excited as he said there was trouble with the presidents motorcade, and reports of shots fired...  My friend and I just looked at each other, and I said something like, geewiz.  The radio reporter continued in a frantic tone speaking of more reports, one said that, "The Presidents Car was speeding off with a secret service agent sprawled across its back, and that they were possibly heading to Parkland Hospital."

 No, no, this cant be happening, I said to myself.  Suddenly, my friend skipped out on me, having noticed an approaching teacher in the hallway.  Before I could wince, she collared me with my radio saying, Young man, youre going to the principals office! I was caught, red-handed!

 As we headed down the hallway, I keep telling her, Somethings happened to the president - Kennedy may have been be shot!  Finally, with my constant pleading, she stopped by the stairwell, and told me to turn the radio on, but, that I was in still trouble, and we were still going to the Principals office.

 The radio began transmitting an ominous disclosure, something had happened on the motorcade route... Reports were coming from Parkland Hospital indicating both the President, and Governor John Connally, had been shot... The radio message conveyed more than either of us wanted to hear. We moved on...

 When we reached the principals office, we went in immediately. The grownups were talking in low tones to each other, and several more school staff came in, and went out. As I quietly sat in a wooded chair, I noticed everyones eyes who passed me were moist, and solemn.

 Finally, the principal (Mr. Nutley) opened his door, and asked me if he could keep my radio - "Of course," I said, yes. I was then sent back to homeroom with instructions - not to talk about this event, and that there would soon be an announcement on the schools public address system.

 When I got to class I was becoming very worried. What would our country do if President Kennedy died?  Would the Russians attack us?  Who would do this terrible thing to such a great man anyway, and why?

 It wasnt long before the announcement was made to the school - that President Kennedy had died, and that Governor Connally was seriously injured, but, that the First Lady was OK.  It had been decided to let school out at 2:00 that day.
 I lived less than two blocks from school, and raced home to meet my mom, who was with some of her friends watching TV as events unfolded.

 When it truly became obvious this was not a nightmare, and that such an incident had indeed come to pass - in my own hometown, I went to my bedroom and cried.

 I didnt eat too much dinner that evening. The TV stayed on as developments about a slain police officer, in Oak Cliff, were reported - along with the capture of a suspect named, Lee Harvey Oswald...  I thought he looked untrustworthy - in the picture shown on television.  He seemed like the type of person I had always been scared of - unpredictable, and cruel.

 I excused myself from the table, and went outside.  The night was cool and damp.  There was a low cloud ceiling - whose bottom reflected city lights - emanating from the homes, streets, and buildings.  Hardly any cars were out.  Everyone had gone home.

 I laid myself down, near a Live Oak tree in our front yard.  For the longest time I prayed to God.  Why did people do things like this?  Am I safe, I asked?  What about my mother and brothers?  What will John-John and Caroline do?
 Finally, I began feeling fatalistic.  I began patiently awaiting the arrival of the Angel, Gabriel - to blow his horn, for the world must certainly be coming to an end...

 After a while it became apparent - this would not happen...


 I lost my a good piece of innocence that day, in the eleventh year, and fourth month, of my life. My father had already abandoned our family and home, and I wasnt sure how much I could trust adults anymore. It was a hard world out there, I thought, and if you arent careful - someone might get you when youre not looking...
 In the years since, Ive learned there are good people in this world doing the best they can.  JFK said, In your hand, my fellow citizens, more than mine, will rest the final success, or failure, of our course...  Together, let us explore the stars, conquer the deserts, eradicate disease, tap the ocean depths, and encourage the arts and commerce.

 I have learned that I too can do my part to make things a little more worthwhile in this world. I have tried to use my creative talents to better things I can affect in my environment in at least some small way.

 These words, spoken by John Fitzgerald Kennedy at Amherst College, a few weeks before his passing, hold his gift for my life. When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the areas of mans concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses, for art establishes the basic human truths which must serve as the touchstone of our judgment.
be aware, be creative, and become a benefit from your existence. - bmm

A Reading of, "Into the Wilderness"
October 25, 2017
"Into the Wilderness"
October 24, 2017

"Spring Affair" © 2017 Brad Michael Moore

"Into the Wilderness!"                                     by Brad Michael Moore                                               24 October 2017


Here, is a huge, locked wooden door, I can't explore - without opening it!

But, fear fills my bones - I'm lost in a house where no one is home, and their windows are nailed shut,

And then, I catch a glimpse of Clara running by - grasping a question - tightly held in her hands,

She turns at the corner in this neighborhood - it's so large - how will I ever find her now?

I scream, "Clara, please stop!" - I scream at the top of my voice, but she cannot hear me inside!

I fear - if she leaves, without hearing from me - telling her, "I love you!," but, it's so much more than just this!

Clara is all I even needed, all I ever dreamed of, ever prayed for, but - she doesn't know that!

She believes I'm a cheat, or even worse, a lying son of bitch - who will always haunt her breaking pride...

I might as well die - if I can not fly through this chimney to the sky - where I might still might find her!

I do get free of this fortress, but, before I can seek her - I am surrounded by her father's fleet of drones!

They are armed, but I am quick, so I get to them to shoot each other - now they are all crashing down!

Here, at this point, the neighborhood is gone, so is the town, and there is a river running into a forest wild!

I land on the shore, and run by this river's side - maybe it will lead me to her - I can only - I must try!

I enter this wilderness, thick and wild, with its moaning trees - that seem to be crying - maybe, I am already too late!

But then - there's smoke up ahead - coming from a cabin - with a great White Stallion - that is tied up outside...

As I approach - there are three great bears on their back feet - standing very Grizzly and wild - each blocking my path!

I plead to them, "Let me speak to her," if she could only know the truth I hold - our lives must go on!

And as I await my fickle fate, she walks out upon a porcelain porch, and waves the great bears aside...

I call her by name, I plead with her the same, on my knees, my heart bleeds, and I'm tearing when I sigh...

"Dearest Clara, forgive me my pride! All I ever wanted was to please you, not to trick you - I only want to be at your side!"

Clara speaks, in soft tones, with tears streaming from her eyes - "Dearest Dax, Have you mislead my fair innocence?"

I say, "Dearest Clara, I have not lied - This is not a trick, or a play - but by all of those before me - so jealous with 

pride, and wanton intentions inside..."

"Dearest Clara, your parents have protected you - all of your life, and they love you through their strife - but they too - 

so fear letting go of you!"

"Dearest Dax, if you do trust in me truly, I promise eternally, I am capable, supremely - of loving you most of all!"

"Dearest Clara, your life and my life - they were bound for one-another - since as children - when we both played in 

the sand..."

"Dearest Dax, I can only love, and be loved by you the same - if not - what is this life we have explored?"

"Dearest Clara, Surely you must see, you are as a part of me - as I am a part of you - in this dream we both explore?"

"And Clara, I adore you, before you speak, another word - I implore you…"

A telephone rings, and I am dreaming, no more...


Brad Michael Moore 3:23 pm, October 24th, 2017

October 13, 2017

"Quixi-Q," © 2017 Brad Michael Moore ~ Hybrid Digital Artifact ~ Digital/Analog Image/Draw&Painting

Hey I quit blogging for a while, to recalibrate my purpose - to become more topical or, to be more insightful of the lessons of introspection - or, something else entirely... I considered including all, and or, none of the above. As for now, I have decided that being topical really dates a blog and its relevance. We all know the issues we face in these unique times, and my blogging about it here is not helpful - since you cannot participate in a, 'give & take,' of topics - because of this instrument's interface limitations. So, I will continue my blog, but going forward - I will be more introspective about the world I face, and the challenges it poses for me [and Us!]. I will also marvel at insights, and realities that make me marvel! I am an Artist, so it is important for me to find the stuff that can make one marvel - it feeds me the inspiration to carry forth in my work, and my life. I will try to keep things interesting, and, if I feel I have nothing to say - I will not waste your time, or mine, with dribbling... I do want to tackle Healthcare in America - as it affects all of us - but especially in ways I have observed it affecting my family, or myself. Some of this conversation may make you uncomfortable, or angry - at the system we are saddled with. However, there are some observations I must tackle as soon as I can muster the breadth of what I need to address... I will likely do this in several pieces - one addressing my mother's final years in our present Health Care System, and later - I may tell you of my personal tribulations ongoing. In the meanwhile, and whenever I can - I will try to marvel as much as possible, but we must also always be aware of what's lurking inside the simple scenery in our midst…   


Brad Michael Moore       13 October 2017

Recently, & for the Time Being...
August 27, 2017

Presently, I have been doing a chronological survay - reassembling all of my historical imagery materials from
my many scattered file Cabinets, chest drawers, and other places - so I may begin to re-catalog of all my analog
rendering materials collected these past 60 years... The goal is to first reconstitute a new, correct, and
chronologicalize assembly of all my film & print collection - {I had a system through 1992} - when I moved to
the country, and that, waylaid me a decade - with all the work and responsibilities I undertook - always while
building newer digs... All of this, now, is to, finally, do one last great surge of digitalization of all those analog
materials I never completely got through earlier - in my, 'Digital Life!' This work, I feel, is relative to my
present, and future business & art career - so I'll be quiet [here], for a while, but I will be dilligently working!
You may see some of the benefits before I can even imagine, presently - so stay in touch, and let me get to
Sincerely, Brad Michael Moore

Memories Never Made
August 04, 2017

"Shall We Dance, or Code...?" © 2017 Brad Michael Moore

"Memories Never Made"   by Brad Michael Moore    August 4th, 2017

One of Two Parts - (Personal)

Many years ago, when I could barely drive, I came by your home to take you for a ride...
You did not hesitate for there was wild - whenever you and I would go out to, 'howl'!
Up and down old Armstrong Parkway - we would roll, jumping curbsides everywhere we would go!
Magdalena, how well I felt you then, even though, all I could offer you - was my virgin!

You would look at me, curious within, and I knew you so wanted to display your wing -
We were just, both, such longing souls, but, a bit too shy to shed our clothes...
Twas so hard to tell you, in simple words - I knew we shared a, 'metal,' within!
This was my notion needing to revel - somehow, someway - before letting, "Us," go.
That was a moment that never grows old - for our souls were ready - to blend, and bow!

"The Opening Cut" © 2017 Brad Michael Moore

Second of Two Parts...

Such an evening is rarely redisplayed, and it ended as just another longing day...
There would never come another play, when our chance, again, could be remade - 
Too much interference - from other sides - all so against our greater wilds, 
Your father's class, suit, and tie, my home address, a divorced mom - I, a fatherless child...

I know it broke your heart - somewhere deep inside, where thin cracks sometimes become wide...
Before I ever let you know, I was still a'rearing to go, you settled for a handsome, 'Mama's Boy.'
Never another opportunity - to meet, again - not until our Ten Year, High School Reunion...
You found me - to kiss me, hug me, and grin - and so I knew we still loved each other within.
I'm not sure how long it was, after that - but you decided your life should never spin again...

"Star Burst Bloom" © 2017 Brad Michael Moore

July 19, 2017

Peter Lawford & My Mom [Gwendolyn E. Moore] 1947 Dallas, TX USA

  "Retrospection"   by Brad Michael Moore     19-July 2017

Mood swings have always been an issue for me - all my life. I remember once, as a child of about five - my dear grandmother drove near over an hour and a half to Navarro County, to visit her siblings - my Grand-Uncles and Aunts. It was a great trip getting there, and there was no indication over how the outcome of this trip would turn - until it did... After the long drive - I became scared, and refused to get out of the car - to go into that big old house, and visit... Of course, I was a child, and I never really saw these people but once a year, in my very short life - always in this little town, many counties away from home. I can't remember it as clearly, now, some 60 years later, but - I recall, at least one each, of my Grand Aunts and Uncles, did try their hand at coming out to the car, and trying to convince me to come in. It wasn't that I was scared of them - I just did not feel comfortable around 'Big' people, and strange large houses... Apparently, there were no other kids there - to come out, coax, and wheedle me with kid-persuasion - perhaps a pilotable crux of my need that day.

I'm sure in many a family, my, "feelings," would have been ignored, and someone, big enough, would just have come out and scooped me up, screaming, and taken me into the house - maybe told me how disrespectful I was being to my dear grandmother. Retrospectively, what I did was embarrassing, and humiliating - creating a scene like that for my grandma. Bottom line though - my mom wasn't with us, and no one wanted to take on temporary parenting skills toward actions that would only bring my child-ire, from the car, into an otherwise, peaceful houseful of people... So, they left me in the car, and my grandmother had a quicker, shorter visit, and dinner, than she deserved - for all her trouble, and the near 130 mile long journey. I am sure she begged forgiveness to her siblings for my behavior - however, on that long drive home - she didn't scold me, or say anything about the incident. In later life, as an adult, I never asked, "Mimi," if she remembered it - after all - I wouldn't be reminding her of one of my more proud moments, but, I never forgot it! It was the first time, I believe, I was old enough to feel ashamed of my personal behavior, and I just knew it had hurt Mimi's feelings. I did not have the wherewithal to apologize - but I would forever be straddled with this memory, and, deservingly so... And that is the basic missive of my story. 

There were no later repercussions for my behavior. Later that same year, my grandmother, my mother, and my two older brothers - all returned back to Corsicana, for the annual, "Family Reunion," my mother's side of the family always had had. It was held at a different location from my last visit. This was 1957, and times, and the idea of, "Middle-class American Family," was so much different - from the way our lives play out now, for the most part. Simpler times, simpler people... When my grandmother's generation grew more elderly, or passed away - so did our, "Family Mechanics." There would be no more extended family reunions - families were splintering... My parents divorced when I was in early primary school. As far as I could tell - I was the first kid in our school that lived with only one parent - where there wasn't a tragic death involved. In fact, some of my friend's parents would not allow me to come to their sleepovers - once my mother was a single woman... What the exact prejudice was that was being castigated upon us I don't know. I just knew I was different now, and would be treated differently by everyone - from my friends, on up to my teachers, and officials at the school. Worst of all - I would grow up a fatherless son. 

Grand Uncle Fred Farrel Florence

President (1955) of the American Bankers Association,

President of the Dallas Republican National Bank 1929-1957

Zedrick Moore [Maternal Grand-father] Once owner of the second largest Hog Farm in Texas.