A New Chapter
Marilyn and I are beginning our barn adventure. Many hours creating plans, anticipating problems, narrowing down the best possible siting and orientation for the structure. Most of the decisions have been made and it is time to move forward. Joining us on this adventure is my good friend and general contractor Jaime Horta of Horta Builders, Santa Fe, NM. We have the utmost confidence in Jaime are thankful he is along for the ride.
My Cowboy Spirit came to life 30 Years ago in the Texas Panhandle. The West has been calling me since that time and expressed itself in my poetry and music. However, it had to wait! There was a career to pursue, children to raise, financial obligations to meet. We all know where the trail ends, but not how long the ride. So, at this point in my life it’s time to set the Cowboy Spirit free!
More time for my Cowgirl, horses, music and poetry. This next chapter begins on 15 secluded acres 10 miles South of Santa Fe, NM, that takes in views of the Sangre de Cristo, Sandia, and Jemez Mountains and the Cerrillos Hills. Marilyn and I are remodeling an existing home and building a barn for our horses. This compound will be known as the “RustyMare”! I’m inviting those who follow me to come along on the ride!
Wind, Rain, and Snow
Leaving Amarillo late this fall night,
Many hours have passed since evening’s last light.
Oklahoma City is a mighty long haul.
Of the past hundred miles I can’t much recall.
Oh, sure, there were others; rocky ground to till;
The hail on the wheat field and stock could take ill;
Try’n to keep the kids healthy and strong;
Summers were hot, cold winter nights long.
These are problems a man could deal with I think;
Not kids carrying guns and government red ink;
Why it is that those few who make the rules
Can simply say, “no more prayer in our schools.”
Why jobs overseas are more important than mine,
And successful marriages are on the decline;
How someone can kill and then be set free.
I know in my heart it’s not just me.
And the two formed a rock where either could stand
To deal with whatever their lives would demand.
To be sure, some didn’t turn out that way,
But more often than not, together they’d stay.
Over your fate you could have some control.
You weren’t just a name on some company payroll
To be struck off so they could stay in the black.
Security is one thing that you’d never lack,
There was interesting talk in that house, I’ll bet;
Conversations replaced by the TV set.
That’s why communication gets so much air.
We don’t talk like we used to, it just isn’t there.
So lord if your listen’n hear this man’s plea;
If there’s life after death, please just send me
Back to that time out here on this plain
And let me battle the Wind, Snow and Rain.
No Wind
The prairie cries out in thunderous refrain
‘Bove the silence that settles in on the plain
To make us aware of some coming event;
Beauty or power, the same signal’s sent.
It may seem a subtle message to send,
But watchful are we when we see there’s NO WIND.
The clouds’r risen in the warm summer sky.
Thunderheads build’n up five miles high;
Then again Mother Nature keeps her word.
Before the first crack of thunder is heard;
Before the soil receives water to mend,
The rain is foretold and, again there’s NO WIND.
Now, blues and pinks are arranged on a stage
In a display of beauty to contrast the rage.
Birds, crickets and locusts join in
As the coyote choir begins’n blends in;
The closing act to a day’s perfect end.
The setting’s just right because there’s NO WIND.
Three Chord Bourbon
Here is the latest promotional video
from my sponsorship with Three chord bourbon.
Like the tune to your favorite song,
this bourbon is rich and smooth.
Three chord is inspired by good times
spent with great music and those closest to you.
as a performer, I’ve come to realize how important this is.
Enjoy!
Ghosts of the Chisholm
There's a whispering on the night wind along the Chisholm Trail,
The Ghosts of those men who were born to roam.
Who speak of Cattle and Cowboys in rich and rugged detail.
Who never knew of family, farm, or home.
But lives where days are measured, in miles gained and cattle lost.
Their reward was freedom for their soul.
Nature called the cadence with turning leaves and morning frost.
Counting the days 'til they reached their goal.
There's chaos in the current as the river starts to swell.
Fear casting its spell among the herd.
The rising waters are threaten to carry them to hell.
Sounds of prayer without a spoken word.
The river bank moves swiftly by, they fight for the other side.
Muscles muster all that they can stand.
Swimming against the devil's grip, they continue on this ride.
Weary limbs find comfort in the sand.
There's a joy that fills the night air as, the starlight casts its spell.
Rugged faces gathering round the fire
To sing the songs and hear the stories that the journeymen tell.
Above the chorus of the Coyote Choir.
Then they wrestle the ground in hopes of drifting off to sleep
Escaping from the trials of the trail.
Then start again at morning light the schedule that they keep.
Each day moving closer to the rail.
What Makes A Cowboy
What makes a Cowboy will never change
Regardless of what’s left of the range
The truth is it’s just a state of mind
If a Cowboy’s lookin’ he’ll always find
A worn truck seat that’s fittin’ just right
For watchin’ a moon that’s big and bright
A cold beer to share with a friend
A helping hand that he can lend
An occasion to ponder what lies ahead
While gazing at the stars from a pickup bed
A place to hole up when the goin’ gets tough
And the courage it takes to call a bluff
The way to keep hangin’ on when all seems lost
How to do what it takes and forget the cost
How to saddle back up after being thrown
A place on the prarie to call his own
Livin’ A Lie
He’s been livin’ a lie that’s been getting’him by
For most of his forty years.
That his dream’n some day he would get underway,
Rope’n and brand’n his steers.
His friends think he’s crazy, and probably too lazy
To be make’n his way as a hand.
But he knows in his heart that he’s right for the part.
A Cowboy will be his last stand.
But then now and again the fear will set in
‘Bout whether there’s still enough time.
Those lines that appear on his face make it clear
He’s a man that’s passing his prime.
Still he keeps the belief that time won’t play the thief
That steals what he’s long’n to find
Call it stubborn, call it pride, he won’t cast aside,
What’s been lurk’n there in his mind.
And he feels some regret watching another sun set
Heaven or Hell, what lies ahead?
So he pours a stiff drink and he tries not to think
That he’s hangin’ on by a thread.
And what keeps him alive and continue to thrive
Is the hope some day he’ll slide
On the back of his roan on a place of his own
And fate will grant him his ride.
Gary Byrd - Fine Art
The American West is much more than epic landscapes that capture our imaginations - it’s a set of ideals. From hard-working American grit to being a good neighbor, loyal to your loved ones, and striving to build a better life. The West helped define our country and is still a beacon of what life could be. That's why we still journey the Tetons and stand in wonder. It’s why a sunset over the Arizona desert still leaves us breathless. It’s easy to imagine how life was and easier still to long for those days in spite of their difficulties.
Running into an old friend when you move to another state is more than chance. So when I found Gary Byrd, a long-time friend and fellow landman from Oklahoma, in Northern New Mexico I knew something was weaving our stories together. It turns out we both were drawn to the American West, and were seeking to portray its stories in our art. For Gary, he has found that outlet with his brush and for myself, my writing and performances.
Gary has been painting since 1993 and has studied under renown artists such as Greg Beecham, John Seerey-Lester, Martin Grelle, Dustin Van Wechel, Chad Poppleton, Charles Dayton and Jim Wilcox. His work focuses on the people, animals, and landscape of the American West and he is frequently on tour across the country. Collectors, like myself, find inspiration in his work as each, no matter the subject, invites you into a story you get to play out in your mind.
Living in New Mexico provides unlimited sources of inspiration for my writing. However, there’s something special about being in my home, drinking my morning coffee, and getting to take in Gary’s work. I often find myself wondering what it must have been like to discover the West for the first time as it was centuries ago. Did people know what they would encounter as they set off for better lives over the Rocky Mountains? Did they know their encounters with new tribes would be forging history? What must it be like to see places like Utah after months traveling through the plains!
I like to call myself the Unlikely Cowboy because I truly did stumble upon this love for the Cowboy Spirit and the American West. The beauty of this moniker is it serves as a universal welcoming call to adopt its ideals and feel the inspiration in the American West. A call for you to discover how to embody it in your own life. Not everyone is going to be spending summers herding cattle or baling hay. Not everyone will learn how to rope or maybe even get to saddle their own horse. But there’s something more to the American West for us to appreciate, even if it’s for a few days as we drive across the West. That’s what Gary’s work represents to me and it has been a pleasure becoming familiar with his work.
It’s always humbling to hear how my poetry touches people from all walks of life. I have to imagine, hearing about Gary’s collectors and the shows he attends, that he too must find similar satisfaction in embarking on this mission to preserve and share the stories of the American West, one painting at a time.
To see more of gary’s work, visit his website and be sure to follow him on facebook & instagram!
The Devil’s Rope
What’s happened since the barbed wire fence,
brought the ‘ol rancher strife.
He could not comprehend there may come an end, to this way of life.
He was in luck as he stepped from the truck,
for the message he was to hear.
Brought peace to his mind and he would find,
there was no reason for fear.
There are some who from the cities come,
and openly embrace the quest.
And join those who had no clue,
until they came upon the rest.
Of unsuspecting souls who changed their roles,
donning spurs and brim that’s wide.
Blue jeans and boots are now what suits,
the places where they ride.
There comes peace of mind for those who find,
and set aside the time to invest.
For each time they cinch their saddle they clinch,
their place in the American West.
So, saddle up with pride whenever you ride,
whether pleasure or purpose have you.
And know in your heart that you are a part,
of those lucky and fortunate few.
Sundown in Cowtown
Here’s a quick recap from the “sundown in cowtown event” hosted by Tallgrass Supply Co. It was a pleasure being able to perform alongside some great artists in the okc stockyards at boxcar woody.
Performing artists
Visual Artists
Vendors
Sponsors
