My Guitar
As a boy on a family vacation in Maine, I met an older guy who had a guitar. He said "Hey listen to this" and played Bob Dylan's "Blowin' in the Wind". The Beatles landed in the U.S. the next summer. They had guitars. I got a job as a stock boy in a hardware store and bought a mail order guitar from Sears. It came with a 45 record and a pamphlet showing the cords.
I played at the school hootenanny. Kids wanted me to teach them Peter, Paul and Mary's "Where Have All the Flowers Gone" and later the Beach Boy's "409".
I worked on the high school paper and creative magazine. When I got to college, I showed them my writings. They said "the stories are great but these poems are sentimental. We can't publish that".
I thought, the poems are more simple, like song lyrics, so I again picked up the guitar.
Much later I returned to the church and they said "Aren't you the guy who plays guitar? Play in the services". So I did...for years.
Now songs come in my head all the time. Like whispers in the rain.
My Art
In kindergarden, they gave us clay and I made a squirrel. The teacher had it fired and said "show your mom". I did. Mom went and bought colored pencils and paper for me and I drew birds from a print we had on the wall. Later, I took the drawing to school to show the class. The kids called me a liar. The teacher did, too. The principle even had my mom come in to school. She brought the bird print from home. My drawing was a different size than the original print.
Later, they took me to a room that was dark. There was a box with a light and a little mirror that projected a picture on the wall. It was pilgrims. I drew the pilgrims and no one called me a liar anymore.
From that time on, there would frequently be a knock on the classroom door and someone would say "please excuse Chip."
I drew all the teacher's visual aids. Later I painted them. I did the bulletin boards and showcases and eventually the school play sets... for years.
I got a bachelor's degree in fine art at Towson University. Then, I needed a job. Ad agencies hired me to draw their ideas. Comps. I drew their ideas, then my own. I won awards. I started my own agency. Now, I'm retired and I just do it for the Art. And Him.
My Writing
I entered high school with a reputation as the creative kid. They said "Why not write for the school paper?" And so I did.
I described the football game as a "gritty masterpiece" and wrote that the auto shop kids were resurecting "a blue Chevy Nova with the blues, into a red gem".
The student advisor said "No, no. Just describe the big plays. No, no, they're just restoring a vintage car. Don't get fancy."
Eventually, they said to take over the school magazine - "Prelude". I wrote stories, then became the editor.
The local elementary school principle read my stories. "Isn't this the kid that did all the art? Hey, have him do the school plays".
My first assignment was to rewrite the Wizard of OZ as a 40 minute play for 6th graders. I did it. It was hard. My friend Paul helped.
Later, my church group found out I wrote. The new thing was to do skits during the service. I wrote a bunch. I started a Christian drama group. Church halls and schools. Afterwards an alter call.
My Spirit
Running away to New York's Greenwich Village at 17, turning on, dropping out, hitchhiking to San Francisco's Haight-Ashbury, getting busted, getting out, wandering the world, London, Paris, Barcelona, coming back to tend my father after his debilitating stroke... none of it reached me.
I was just back one night and read the bible- "Satan is defeated by the blood of the lamb and the word of our testimony". Something leaped within me. I stayed up and waited for sunrise.
When it came, I was a new person. I never looked back.
