MONTE SMITH - IDEA ARTIST, CARPENTER, WRITER....
I became the identity known as Monte Smith in Levelland, TX on the 19th of May 1951. I was born an adventurer. I like to experiment and I like to explore. When I was three yrs old and playing out in the yard a couple of boys on their bikes came by and then the next thing you know I'm on the bike with one of them and we're off..... let me tell you, that created quite a stir. But it revealed a pattern that would be with me to this very day. I am a person that has a propensity for finding trouble. Not because I'm mean spirited (far from it) but because I'm curious and wrestle with the status quo. I am not a loud protester as I observed early on that being loud and moving fast will really get you in trouble (people in general don't like that) so I tend to keep a rather low profile but, even so, I do manage to impinge somewhat both on my physical environment and certainly on my social environment. I have many stories I could tell.
Right before turning four my family moved to Fort Morgan, Co and that is where my younger brother by four years) was born. My family...dad's side...was pretty much focused on the oil patch and/or ranching. They never were that high up on the food chain in either category but they did seem to hold a rather secure position midway up that chain.
I had the incredible good fortune to grow up on some very large ranches in New Mexico and AR. There were two in New Mexico. One a 40 square mile sheep ranch near a little spot on the map called Hope. And the other further north between Fort Sumner (playground and final resting place of Billy the Kid) and Santa Rosa. This ranch was 32 square miles large (considered a small ranch for that region) and it was a cattle and horse ranch. In Arkansas the ranch was located on the Fort Chaffee military reservation and was probably around 78,000 acres give or take. It was quite an unlikely mix in the summer....5,000 head of cattle and Army Reserve maneuvers for four months. Imagine raising cattle amid 50 caliber machine gun fire, gorilla warfare simulations and bombs exploding....strange? Yes, it was really strange and wild but after the Army Reserve units left out the AR Game and Fish Board took over and opened up the land where we had our cattle to the broad public for hunting. therefore for about three months we had the most wildest mix of hunters you could imagine. Far far more scary than the military. At least the military (as far as I know) weren't taking LSD. Anyway, this fun and excitement lasted for five years. From the time I was 14 to the time I was 18.
The point is, as a kid I had a tremendous amount of space to myself ( I could get on a horse and ride 16 miles in one direction before I ever ran into a fence!) In New Mexico our nearest next door neighbor was 2-3 miles away. So with not many playmates other than my younger brother I had a great opportunity to develop my imagination. In fact, I developed it so good that it almost became solid a time or two and I spent as much or more time in my mocked-up universes as I did in this one.
IDEA ARTIST
Until I joined the Pickens Plan Army I did not realize that I was an Idea Artist. Bus as soon as I read that phrase I immediately knew that was a description of me. Back in 86' while visiting in LA for a while I had finally arrived at a point where I could actually have the fact that I was an artist even if I couldn't put a...what kind of artist... descriptive label on me. But yes, I am very much indeed an idea artist and I am probably that first and foremost.
We all have ideas but we don't all have ideas the same way or at the same rate of speed or at the same degree of breadth and depth. It took me a long time to come to recognize, know and accept that as a fact. In my case, my ides run as a perpetual stream of concepts that could not begin to fit into the physical universe time continuum. For whatever reason I am somehow linked up to this continuum of concepts, which is fed by many, many sources...that is a perpetual flow in the universe of thought. It's like having a large river next to you at all times and whenever you happen to get thirsty all you have to do is reach out and stick a finger into the river and the water begins to flow from the river to you and your thirst is quenched.
There was a time in my life that lasted for many years where I looked at this condition as being a curse. I considered it a curse because I was the effect of it. I didn't know how to manage it. It seemed that almost anything and everything would cause me to stick a finger into the river and that was incredibly distracting. Also, I drove people nuts! I was always saying, "Hey, listen to this idea..." I did learn how to restrain that urge to broadcast my ideas but occasionally, even to this day, you can here me say, "Hey, I've got an idea...." Eventually I did get somewhat of a handle on this condition and learned to manage it to the point where it was, at least, not a constant distraction.
MONTE THE CARPENTER
to be continued.....
Right before turning four my family moved to Fort Morgan, Co and that is where my younger brother by four years) was born. My family...dad's side...was pretty much focused on the oil patch and/or ranching. They never were that high up on the food chain in either category but they did seem to hold a rather secure position midway up that chain.
I had the incredible good fortune to grow up on some very large ranches in New Mexico and AR. There were two in New Mexico. One a 40 square mile sheep ranch near a little spot on the map called Hope. And the other further north between Fort Sumner (playground and final resting place of Billy the Kid) and Santa Rosa. This ranch was 32 square miles large (considered a small ranch for that region) and it was a cattle and horse ranch. In Arkansas the ranch was located on the Fort Chaffee military reservation and was probably around 78,000 acres give or take. It was quite an unlikely mix in the summer....5,000 head of cattle and Army Reserve maneuvers for four months. Imagine raising cattle amid 50 caliber machine gun fire, gorilla warfare simulations and bombs exploding....strange? Yes, it was really strange and wild but after the Army Reserve units left out the AR Game and Fish Board took over and opened up the land where we had our cattle to the broad public for hunting. therefore for about three months we had the most wildest mix of hunters you could imagine. Far far more scary than the military. At least the military (as far as I know) weren't taking LSD. Anyway, this fun and excitement lasted for five years. From the time I was 14 to the time I was 18.
The point is, as a kid I had a tremendous amount of space to myself ( I could get on a horse and ride 16 miles in one direction before I ever ran into a fence!) In New Mexico our nearest next door neighbor was 2-3 miles away. So with not many playmates other than my younger brother I had a great opportunity to develop my imagination. In fact, I developed it so good that it almost became solid a time or two and I spent as much or more time in my mocked-up universes as I did in this one.
IDEA ARTIST
Until I joined the Pickens Plan Army I did not realize that I was an Idea Artist. Bus as soon as I read that phrase I immediately knew that was a description of me. Back in 86' while visiting in LA for a while I had finally arrived at a point where I could actually have the fact that I was an artist even if I couldn't put a...what kind of artist... descriptive label on me. But yes, I am very much indeed an idea artist and I am probably that first and foremost.
We all have ideas but we don't all have ideas the same way or at the same rate of speed or at the same degree of breadth and depth. It took me a long time to come to recognize, know and accept that as a fact. In my case, my ides run as a perpetual stream of concepts that could not begin to fit into the physical universe time continuum. For whatever reason I am somehow linked up to this continuum of concepts, which is fed by many, many sources...that is a perpetual flow in the universe of thought. It's like having a large river next to you at all times and whenever you happen to get thirsty all you have to do is reach out and stick a finger into the river and the water begins to flow from the river to you and your thirst is quenched.
There was a time in my life that lasted for many years where I looked at this condition as being a curse. I considered it a curse because I was the effect of it. I didn't know how to manage it. It seemed that almost anything and everything would cause me to stick a finger into the river and that was incredibly distracting. Also, I drove people nuts! I was always saying, "Hey, listen to this idea..." I did learn how to restrain that urge to broadcast my ideas but occasionally, even to this day, you can here me say, "Hey, I've got an idea...." Eventually I did get somewhat of a handle on this condition and learned to manage it to the point where it was, at least, not a constant distraction.
MONTE THE CARPENTER
to be continued.....
Replies to This Discussion
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Permalink Reply by Gregory L. Smith on -
Maker of Tables and designer of Galaxies... What else do we need to know? Oh, Yeah, Married to an artist that is as good as or better than yourself....LOL! And you live in the beautiful countryside...Show your pictures.............
Gregor Smith gregors@att.net
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Permalink Reply by Monte Smith on -
I am not a poet. But...
One morning when I got in my truck to go to work the first few words of a poem came to me and that was certainly atypical. "Interesting", I thought. But beyond that brief flicker of attention I didn't give the occurrence another thought. Later that day,In the evening, when I returned home and was sitting at my desk that same grouping of words from the morning once again floated into my field of perception. So, I said, "What the heck." And I wrote them down. Before the ink had dried on the paper more words came and more and so on until finally I had a poem sitting there in front of me. There was absolutely no effort involved. It had just poured out. That's it.. You now have the back story.
Here's the poem...
Love is Blind
Or is it?
It has frequently been spoken
and I’ve always heard
that “love is blind”
I believed every word.
But that was then
and this is now
and I can’t help but think
that somehow;
I missed the point
along the way,
so here I am
with this to say.
After a good many years
I’ve gained an advantage
and I won’t fall prey
to that dear old adage.
I made a discovery,
the saying’s not true.
It’s not love that is blind
It’s just me and you.
When two people meet
It’s actually all there.
The good and the bad
but we seldom care.
To see what we see
that’s so plainly in view,
we see instead,
what we’ve wanted to.
Suddenly we’re involved
and on our way
neither having the courage
to only say,
I’ve made a mistake
I hope you’ll understand
but you’re not for me,
I’ll explain if I can.
You see,
I was desperate for love,
I didn’t even know.
then you came along
it began to show.
However, what I saw
was not really you.
It was just something I imagined
a time or two.
I thought of it so strongly
for quite sometime
that I made it seem real
and forgot it was mine.
It took a life of it’s own
I jumped to the back seat,
and then, as if by chance,
we came to meet.
This creation of mine
which was in reality a picture,
got stuck in my face
I instantly felt richer.
Richer, by far, I felt
cause look what I found.
It was the love of my life
that had finally come round!
But now the picture
has faded,
I see what I’ve done,
I made a mistake
you’re not the one.
It was only a picture I loved
of my own creation,
that was the true cause
of my infatuation.
As we’ve been together
the picture came apart
and along with it
so did my heart.
I feel so bad
for what I’ve put you through,
now I stand here
not really knowing what to do.
I say, “I’m sorry.”
I know what I’ve done.
but perhaps we can be friends
and still have some fun.
Now that I’m here
without my creation,
I’m beginning to have
a strong realization.
The you who I see
right before my face,
you’re really quite wonderful,
so full of grace.
I present myself
in a new unit of time.
I’ll share your thoughts
you can share mine.
What’s that you say?
you have a confession,
It’s not really me,
I’m not your obsession!
You’ve had a picture
All this time
you say it’s the same
story as mine.
The subject of this tale
is of love being blind
but the truth we’ve found
is of a different kind.
We have both proven
that it’s not true.
No, love is not blind
It was just me and you.
Monte Smith 16 Feb 2000
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Permalink Reply by Gregory L. Smith on
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Great use of rhythm and I like the content. Why do you think you aren't a poet? Perhaps, because you haven't written enough of it? LOL! It is a great poem and very thoughtful. I am sure it will last over time, like fine vintage wine, it makes more sense as the years go by and opens your eyes to what you haven't really seen all these years. Maybe we do the same in our work, our dreams, our efforts for others, maybe even in science? It appears that scientists love science so much they are willing for it to be distorted into their vision of science, just to please their esoteric hearts, until, somehow, Physics catches up with their theories and they have to re-look into their distorted glass mirror and exclaim that the stranger in the mirror isn't them, but an apparent impostor...Gregor Smith gregors@att.net
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Permalink Reply by Monte Smith on
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Much Thanks Gregory,
Do you think it could be made into a song?
You've got it though! The concept has broad applications. This is what I'm talking about when I say that I am unable to really see the whole elephant. I keep seeing the elephant as how "I" want to see the elephant and I cannot seem to not do that. But having said that, seeing the elephant as I want to see it is not necessarily a bad thing. Case in point...I see the energy elephant as being totally GREEN! And if we all decided to see te energy elephant as totally GREEN it would be GREEN.
So, does this mean that if I see in you what I want to see in you are you not that which I see?
Monte
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