Larry Vennard, Thats me, have many lifetime experiences that
are rare and unique. With more than thirty-five plus years as a
Construction Gypsy, Vietnam Veteran, Oil Field Roughneck, and
a Gandy-Dancer~> (Rail Road Track Builder, Specialized in Switch
building, Insulated Joints, and Exothermic Welding.) Makes an interesting conversation reading my resume.
Realizing that I have grown old I stopped using my back and
began using my head. I have become a published and award
winning Artist. I now concentrate on my hobby as a Recycled
Iron Sculptor and Artist. Along with my eBay Store called “Our
Variety Show Store” plus including my Internet Marketing pursuits, I have a full slate that occupies a bunch of my time.
*
As an award winning and published Artist, I am asked
very often one main question, “How do you do that?”
My reply although a bit long addresses the question…
**
The general consensus of most non-artistic people seems
to be the misconception that no more than a chosen few
are skilled enough to carry out creating a steady output
of artistic products. This is the farthest thing from the truth.
The reality is that our imagination is remarkably similar
to a muscle that needs to be exercised in order to
consistently put out guaranteed results. If you don’t
practice developing your artistic blessings, the ability
will disappear into non-existence.
It has been determined that the trick is to keep working
at honing, perfecting and developing your skills. After
many successes and failures, the necessity of maintaining
the constant pursuit of expressing your artistic ability seems
to become apart of your being, and will soon come to you
as if it were a born inherent talent instead of a hard earned
and tedious self made achievement. Think about it and give
it a try. It can’t hurt and you may become a famous artist.
My sincere regards!
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I like to meet people with an upbeat personality who
won’t quit and work for success till the fat lady sings.
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There is a breed of men that don’t fit in,
A breed that can’t stay still,
as they break the hearts of kith and kin,
As they roam the world at will.
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I have clinched and closed with the naked north,
I have learned to defy and defend,
Shoulder to shoulder we have fought it out,
Yet the wild must win in the end!
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Two of my favorite poems by Robert Louis Stephenson.
These two poems exemplify the type of people I hang
with. Scary ain’t it?
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A man was driving through west Texas one spring evening. The road was deserted and he had not seen a soul for what seemed like hours.
Suddenly his car started to cough and splutter and the engine slowly died, leaving him sitting on the side of the road in total isolation. He popped the hood and looked to see if there was anything that he could do to get it going again. Unfortunately, he had a limited knowledge of cars, so all he could do was look at the engine and feel despondent.
As he stood looking at the gradually fading light of his flashlight, he cursed that he had not put in new batteries.
Suddenly, through the inky shadows, came a deep voice, “It’s your fuel pump.”
The man raised up quickly, striking his head on the underside of the hood.
“Who said that,” he called out.
There were two horses, a white one and a black one, standing in the fenced field alongside the road. The man was amazed when the white horse repeated, “It’s your fuel pump. Tap it with your flashlight and try it again.”
Confused, the man tapped the fuel pump with his flashlight, turned the key and sure enough, the engine roared to life. He muttered a short thanks to the horse and screeched away.
When he reached the next town, he ran into the local bar.
“Gimme a large whiskey, please,” he said.
A rancher sitting at the bar looked at the man’s ashen face and asked, “What’s wrong, man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“It’s unbelievable,” the man said and recalled the whole tale to the rancher. The rancher took a sip of his beer and looked thoughtful. “A horse, you say? Was it by any chance a white horse?”
The man replied to the affirmative. “Yes, it was! Am I crazy?”
“No, you ain’t crazy. In fact, you’re lucky,” said the rancher, “because that black horse don’t know squat about cars.”
(8^D) 4 years ago