I have been to Mexico many times and each visit is as enjoyable as the first. As I cross the border, I get the feeling that I have come home. I really don't know why as I have no Spanish or Mexican ancestry and don't speak the language. I love the marketplaces, the color and the people. Every time I take a trip elsewhere, I come home saying to myself that the next time I "will" go to Mexico.

The churches and cathedrals of Mexico are all so different. Throughout the countryside you may find one that is small and painted entirely in white, while another may be tremendous with an abundance of gold, silver, statues and old paintings.

One day, while walking down the highway at dusk, a flock of green parrots flew over the heads of my companion and me.

Mexican Church

Small thread,
Stretching through space,
Holding up that part remote,
Rocked, unwrinkled
In a placid sea

Tis strange to see
A green bird flying
Thru and eternity of space
While nostalgic odors
Boil the prehistoric

Mexican Church, 1955. Oil on masonite, 17" x 25"

Kansas City

A whistle stop in Kansas
Four A.M. stillness,
The chest expanding
Experience of,
  Total Now.

I wrote this poem in 1925 while traveling with Vaudeville. The drawing was done many years later.

Kansas City, 1965 Felt tip pen on paper, 8" x 11"

The Marriage of Blue & Green

You are viewing the text version of this site.

To view the full version please install the Adobe Flash Player and ensure your web browser has JavaScript enabled.

Need help? check the requirements page.

Get Flash Player