Nice Puppy Coloring Pictures photos

LOL... is this an Explore/Scout April Fool's Joke?

Image by colorblindPICASO
1. Shoe shopping really is a tough exercise for Sarah. Years of shunning girlyness really comes back to haunt you when presented with those ridiculously small sandal buckles., 2. While waiting for the train Sarah broke into toe stretches to get ready for the day of walking barefoot. My pedometer averaged 8 miles plus per day. My feet hurt just typing that., 3. Sarah contemplates the questionable choices she's made in life: investing in rare comic book posters instead of the market, eating that truck stop vending machine egg salad sandwich, dating a guy who takes pictures during dinner..., 4. The look I get each time I innocently joke that I may have traded our convention passes for tickets to Six Flags. Sarah has NO sense of humor about those things., 5. "Uh yeah hi, is my stylist in? Great, could you ask her if 'mango cherry breeze' or 'island mist essence' would be better for my hair?", 6. So easy to use, even a bodiless pair of shins and feet can do it! You could save 15 hours or more with Roomba., 7. Sarah swinging at her old elementary school. She suddenly stopped when she realized she chased down and beat-up her kindergarten crush in that grass and dirt. I wish I could say times have changed…, 8. Sales people on Wednesday night: "Welcome to 'Shirts 'R Us! How can I help you?!?" Sunday night: "No we don't have that in small. Ask me again and I'll strangle you with this metal hanger.",

9. I give Sarah the camera, thinking maybe she'll take picture of me. Nope, one picture of her feet on the dashboard then hits the power button. Flickr would be a much different place if Sarah was contagious!, 10. Note that the "Heavenly glow" is not an out of focus, over exposure, over processing on my old camera's part, rather a metaphysical expression of Sarah's joy at finding the self she needs to expand her Transformer's collection., 11. Wrapping Christmas presents is a serious operation. This is generally as close as I want to get to the action. Not because I'm lazy. But because one wrong move and I could find myself under the tree with a bow on my head...., 12. To throw her enemies off her track, Sarah often changes her hair color with a mere thought., 13. "The dress looks sexy Hon. Shall I go ahead and clear out some room in my pockets for your keys and wallet?", 14. Ok... you have GOT to hear the story of why my Girlfriend is dancing. I can't give it up here, she's too shy for me to say it. So you'll have to click on the picture and read the full description for the story. But it involves Sarah,..., 15. Dating Tip #37: When your girlfriend comes into your office, kicks off her flip-flop, puts her foot up on your lapboard, and randomly says "So, what's up?" There is a pretty good chance she isn't just making conversation., 16. There is no case of my sore feet that Sarah can't help out by making me take 4 flights of stairs. I know, she walked around the convention for the whole week barefoot and I'm complaining... but hey... it is just what I do!,

17. NOW IN 3D! “The last thing Sarah’s punching bag sees before it is kicked to the ground” Playing in selected cities this summer., 18. I know what this looks like, but Sarah is not in fact physically repelled by kitchenware., 19. This is either the most boring game of Chicken known to dog or the most improbable "staring game" ever played., 20. "What do you mean you want to hang something on the walls?!? You never mentioned that when we first met! You should have said something before now!", 21. They really shouldn't put those mini power polls so close to a swing set. When people like my girlfriend swing barefoot splinter danger is at an all-time high. She finally learned her lesson though.=), 22. Bottle opening continues. Does this look like a road construction crew to anyone?, 23. A date w/ a geek 03: In my continuing series of observations on the opposite sex I have to point out the "Winter on the top, summer with the feet" approach to Sarah's attire. You think THIS is weird, try laying under a blanket with her!, 24. I think the secret is out... She wore her 80s TMNT hoodie to my parent's house. My family knows I'm dating a geek.=),

25. "Welcome back to Wheel of Fortune. The category is 'Before and After.'" "Pat, I'd like to solve the puzzle: 'Bare Foot Ball'", 26. The start of a "small" water change. A big one before the hurricane was more like 30 buckets. It is a wonder Sarah and I didn't look like He-Man action figures just from lugging buckets., 27. You might want to sit down for this. I have several pictures of Sarah wearing both a skirt AND pantyhose! Still no purse, bra, or makeup... but she gets girl points for that right?=), 28. More evidence for why I should have been kept away from Aperture Priority and different F stops before I got a DSLR., 29. Frustrated with English, Sarah breaks into a mime routine to remind me to take out the trash., 30. My girlfriend uses her super powers to mess with my camera more than fight for truth, justice, and the American way. In this case she chose to phase in right by me as I took this shot., 31. So it costs 5 bucks for a large bottle of water at a football game in a town with a dramatic EXCESS of water at least once a year. By that standard, how much would stadium water cost in a desert?, 32. Sarah frowns when she realizes all the really GOOD toys are on the top shelf. Oh the joys of being three and a half feet tall. I guess going barefoot all the time doesn't help either...,

33. Are 1980s brown loafers REALLY back in style now? Wow... you learn so much from visiting a college campus. I am NOT getting my Members Only Jacket back out of storage. NO! BAD FASHION DESIGNERS!, 34. "Hey Chuck... this broad wants a super hero shirt... do we have any of those in the back?", 35. She’s lost in thought; I’m lost on the map!, 36. Rare footage of a geek/tom boy at the Houston Galleria parking garage. Her species is usually repelled by girl things like shopping. This is indeed a truly rare capture!, 37. *SIGH* Sarah sure spends a lot of time getting pedicures. Something tells me mud and gook are part of the cause for that!, 38. Sarah calmly explains the details of Oan Power Batteries and the Green Lantern Corps. I don’t think anyone at these parties knows she is a geek. I mean... how would they know? Really?, 39. Sarah getting Rock Band ready to go. She would have been much quicker with this, but she was a bit thrown off by the pinkish Wii-mote cover. Pink is her kryptonite., 40. Walking down the sidewalk on our way home from getting the pizza.,

41. As usual the dogs go to Sarah for comfort and relief from their costumes. Is this the same phenomena as hostages bonding with their captors? One more question for dog psychologists to tackle., 42. You know you are officially a couple when your girlfriend comes over to help you move into a new apartment.... not to be nice or to help out, but to make sure you leave enough room on your shelves for her stuff!, 43. A date w/ a geek 02: When you are going out on a date with a geek, you can't leave for a night out without checking email. SEXY! Geek girlfriend...=), 44. A shot of Sarah I and leaving to run some errands, her begrudgingly allowing a photo, while I fumble for my car keys. We live a complicated life, particularly in terms of sentence structure., 45. Hm... three dogs are sitting in a row as commanded... must be pancake time., 46. Even with her mom walking right beside her, Sarah callously steps on a crack and breaks her mother's back. She is SOOO inconsiderate!, 47. I thought I might have to reboot her. She just kept staring at herself in those sandals. Guess she's not used to being tall. The air IS thinner up here., 48. Known for her patience with frustrating tasks, Sarah is often put on bottle opening duty. That went well!,

49. How many girlfriends would let all these model kit parts, paint, and tools stay on the kitchen table like this? Uh... maybe this one since it is HERS! I think I should get to move more of my bachelor pad stuff in from the garage., 50. And so it beings anew... The mad rush to collect all 5 covers of the 1983 special edition Batman comic., 51. Sarah putting on a brave face during last minute Christmas shopping a few years ago. Really... she did great. Only two people died and JC Penny finally lifted the ban on her concealed sword. Life is good., 52. Girls are weird. This was shot last November (probably pretty cold out). Sarah is wearing like 5 layers of shirts on top, but she has on shorts and is barefoot. How is it that much warmer below her hips?!?, 53. Sarah doing her impression of a hood ornament. It is either that or the scene in Titanic at the front of the ship. Either way, she's doing her majestic posing best!, 54. Khaos is pretty sure the leash wants to eat her. Meanwhile, for the first time, Pokey discovers Sarah paints her toe nails. Getting ready for a walk is complicated when you are a dog., 55. She got a flat tire., 56. Not shockingly the geek crowd doesn't really make use of the smoking porches. But they do make a good place for a quieter phone call spot.,

57. Still annoyed from our football team's performance the day before, Sarah started randomly demonstrating the proper procedure for signaling a "fair catch.", 58. Legend has it that Elvis Presley wrote "Blue suede shoes" because men would notice they were standing next to him at urinals in public bathrooms. They would turn to say something and forget what they were doing..., 59. Sarah might be able to survive on cherries and cold cereal alone., 60. "Hon, I know your glasses make you look nerdy, but you’re not even CLOSE to that pin!", 61. As with the busses, on certain Saturdays in College Station, all crowds point to one destination. Well, assuming those crowds are dressed somewhat the same way as us., 62. This is a game!, 63. When your tastes lean toward comic books and other "boy" things, you have to get creative when shopping for shirts. But rather than learning to sew and screen-print, Sarah spends a lot of time in the boy's section of the store., 64. Dirty feet are an obvious outcome of going barefoot all day. A surprising outcome: how much Sarah likes to terrorize me by randomly touching me with her feet. My girlfriend is an odd bird...,

65. Restaurant tables really should come with camera tri-pods installed. This self portrait sort of looks like I'm trying to get someone else into the picture., 66. “This is going to be one of those weeks at work… do you think people would be able to smell tequila through this lid?”, 67. Sarah before an Aggie football game. She's a non-conformist. See? She's NOT wearing maroon pants!, 68. It is a long walk to the nosebleed section of Kyle Field. We only made it because we traded for a bottle of oxygen at the first base camp (located just below the first deck ramp)., 69. "Hey Charlie, what is that up there?" "No idea Zoe, but I want it." "Me too, now how do we get it?" "Not sure, it's pretty high. Let's give the humans puppy dog eyes." "WHAT? No way, KITTEN eyes!" "Puppy dog eyes!", 70. The boot-up cycle for this model of girlfriend is quite slow. There is a full minute of silent blinking. That is followed by 4 or 5 minutes of aimless walking around/bumping into things., 71. "Measure twice, cut onc… wait, MEASURE?!?" Yeah… Sarah is more of a "wing it" kind of girl., 72. It really doesn't matter what position they are in, or what they are doing. A Cavalier is always willing to look up and pose. Now... how do I train Sarah to do that...

Created with fd's Flickr Toys.

(Michael Healy) THE HOLY FAMILY

Image by Fergal of Claddagh
MICHAEL HEALY, Stained Glass Artist
Thomas MacGreevy

In the centuries that followed the Protestant Reformation pretty well all the ecclesiastical buildings which had been erected in Ireland both before and after the Norman invasion were laid in ruins. And until Catholic Emancipation, practically nothing was set up in place of the lovely things which had been destroyed. When church building did start again, the age of bad architecture had arrived. With a few exceptions — most of them in the classical style — the churches and chapels built in the last hundred years or so are, architecturally speaking, of poor quality. It took three generations for an Irish architect of genius, Scott, the designer of the basilica at Lough Derg, to appear. But we have only a very few buildings by Scott. For architecture is the most expensive, as it is the most communal, the least individual, of the arts. The arts that are dependent on architecture, however, sculpture and, in the case of church architecture especially, the art of stained glass painting, these may come to fruition more easily, and be more widely distributed over a given area than good architecture. A big stained glass window costs no more than a small picture of the same quality. And a beautiful window may be set up even in a church that, as architecture, is undistinguished. That is where the subject of this study comes in.

Michael Healy was born in Dublin in 1873. He died at Mercer's Hospital, Dublin, in September, 1941. Outside a very small circle his name is hardly known. And yet for forty years he was quietly but unfailingly beautifying our land, doing all that a great artist could do to give worthy expression to the religious life of the people of Ireland. The pioneer artist of the modern Irish stained glass movement, it is largely owing to his genius that to-day there are few places in the country which are more than twenty miles from a major work of modern art. In Dublin and the greater towns something in the way of visual art has, of course, always been happening, if it was no more than the erection of a terrace or crescent or square of well-designed houses. But for hundreds of years the visual arts were practically unknown outside the towns. Nowadays, however, if you drive, say, a hundred miles, through almost any part of Ireland you will find that you can stop at least half a dozen times, go into churches, and look at stained glass windows which represent the most venerated figures and events of religious history, very often of our own religious history, and represent them with an elevated tenderness of feeling, a beauty of draughtsmanship, and a splendour of colour, that were only rarely surpassed in the works of the great stained glass artists of medieval France or the painters of Renaissance Italy. And what is more important than their being there for art-loving travellers is the fact that these windows are there to stir the imagination of people of sensibility who live in remote places. There are there in nearly every county, from Cork to Antrim, from Wexford to Donegal, at Mayfield and Bushmills, Gorey and Letterkenny, in Sligo and Mayo, Roscommon, Leitrim, Fermanagh, Clare, Tipperary, Kilkenny, Laois, Kildare, Meath, in Cork city, Galway city, Dublin city, above all at Loughrea — they are there to induce that mood of meditation and recollection which only genuine works of religious art can induce, and, more profanely considered, to constitute standards of taste and artistic points of departure, and not only for grown-ups but, even more important, for artistically gifted children.

Forty years ago, then, a movement was started to break with the bad mass-production pseudo-religious art that was coming in large quantities from abroad. And the pioneer artist of it was this Irishman of the people, sprung from the humbler ranks of society, yet a man of extraordinarily wide range of understanding and power of interpretation, and a master of the richest and most fastidious sensibility both in colour and draughtsmanship, Michael Healy.

It was indirectly through Harry Clarke, the most brilliant stained glass artist of a later generation, that I, myself, first came to understand what a great artist Michael Healy was. Harry was a contemporary and friend, and I used sometimes to borrow his bicycle in order to get to places and things worth seeing which were at a distance from a railway station, St. Doulough's church, near Malahide, for instance, and Jerpoint Abbey, near Thomastown. On a Saturday, getting on for twenty years ago now, Harry lent me the bicycle to go to Clongowes to see Mr. Keating's then fairly new Stations of the Cross in the School Chapel. I am not discussing the work of living artists here, so I must not dwell on that remarkable series of modern Irish paintings. What I was not prepared for in the Chapel at Clongowes was a radiantly gleaming window behind the altar which represented scenes from the life of St. Joseph, Joseph listening to the angel's message, Joseph and Mary being turned away from the inn, and, loveliest of all, Joseph, during a rest on the Flight into Egypt, engaged in the homely business of making a fire, with Our Lady, the holy Child on her knee, sitting under a cluster of trees, and the donkey grazing a little way off. I did not know who had done the window, but apart altogether from its remarkable colour harmonies, rich crimsons and blues and greens, all cooled to a lovely silveriness of tone by the technical process known as aciding, apart from all that, the sacred personages were represented with such noble simplicity and such grave reverence as to make it evident that the artist who had imagined and executed them could enter into and convey the spirit of the Christian story as few artists since the end of the Middle Ages have done. I was rather excited at my discovery and enquired of a manservant at Clongowes where the window had come from. He said he didn't know, but volunteered to ask the Rector. I protested against disturbing anybody so august, but he insisted. "He'll be only glad to know you like the window," he said. I waited in some trepidation, but in a few moments the Rector came downstairs, declared himself to be Father Joy, a countryman of my own, and gave me the kindest of welcomes. He was gratified by my interest in the window, told me that it was Healy's and that it was due to, I think, Father Mulcahy that it, as also the Keating Stations, had been commissioned. I, in my turn, was gratified to learn that the author of the lovely window was somebody I actually knew myself. I had known Michael Healy for some years at the time and I was interested in his work, but I had mostly seen it in small pieces in the studio at The Tower of Glass where he worked, only very little of it set up complete in the churches for which it was designed. And none of it that I had seen in such circumstances had struck me as the St. Joseph window did now, as, that is to say, indubitably the work of a master, a master in the high tradition of the great stained glass artists of the Middle Ages. I was probably more receptive to the window's effect for the fact that, a little while before, I had sold half my books and gone off to stare at the greatest stained glass windows in the world, in the most beautiful of all Gothic cathedrals at Chartres, fifty miles from Paris. And more recently still, I had been able to see the lovely glass at Segovia in Spain, and at Barcelona, and, on the way home, the next best glass after Chartres, that in the cathedral at Bourges in the middle of France. Naturally I was excited to think that there was a living Irishman, a man I knew myself, whose work was worthy to be mentioned in the same breath with that of the great men of thirteenth century France and fifteenth century Spain.

I wanted to do something about my discovery, to share it, to write about it. There was, however, a difficulty. Harry Clarke would not mind my having used his bicycle to discover the work of Michael Healy. Harry was not that kind of man. He knew better than I did what a fine artist Michael Healy was. The difficulty was Mr. Healy himself. He hated publicity. I knew him fairly well. I even had reason to think he liked me. Miss Purser, for whose enterprise in founding The Tower of Glass we must always be grateful, had once said jokingly to me, "Mr. Healy likes talking to you — I don't know why." I knew that if Healy did like talking to me it was because I was interested not only in his work but in the processes of mind behind it, in what he said about the human, the non-technical side of it. I had no pretensions to technical knowledge. Healy was also friendly, I think, because during the revolutionary years our political sympathies lay in the same direction. He was a very reticent man, but, a child of the people, he was passionately interested in the country's destinies, in its past, its future and its present. Absorbed in the happenings of the time and their implications, he would talk to me about them with, for him, some freedom. And then my interest — a youthful, light-hearted interest compared with his — in the scraps of information about religious history which I had picked up here and there, was a greater bond than I realized.

But the question now was whether he would be cross if I, an ignorant layman, presumed to write about his work. However, I decided to risk it. So without a word to himself, or to Harry Clarke or to Miss Purser, I wrote my very inadequate appreciation of the Clongowes window and sent it to Æ, the editor of The Irish Statesman. It was published the following Saturday. And for a week or so I went near none of them. Then somebody told me that at The Tower of Glass, "they" were rather pleased than otherwise. They, of course, might mean the other artists, Miss Geddes, Miss Rhind, Miss O'Brien and Mr. McGoldrick. Mr. Healy's name was not specified. Still, I ventured to go round. They were all welcoming, but it was a relief when Mr. Healy beamed, if anything rather shyly, through his spectacles and made it clear that he would not hold my indiscretion against me. And so we became even better friends than before. The end of that story is that when, some months before he died, I saw him after an interval of four or five years he told me he was working on a big commission of seven two-light windows representing the Seven Dolours for Clongowes. He regarded them as his magnum opus and, talking about them, he volunteered the opinion that probably my article of long ago had helped to get him the commission. I should like to believe it was true. He did not live to finish the series. Only three of the Dolours, that is to say six lights, were completed. But even as they stand, they are enough to immortalize his name. They are of amazing richness and delicacy of colour, and the figures, the Holy Child, Mary, Joseph and Simeon, are of a graciousness which has hardly been approached in Irish art since, I would say, some of the fifteenth century carved figures in the cloisters at Jerpoint. It seems to me hardly extravagant to compare the Divine Child in The Flight Into Egypt window with the wonderful Christ-child in the Paris version of Leonardo da Vinci's Virgin of the Rocks. I am glad, as I believe Healy himself would be glad, that the series of Dolour windows at Clongowes is being completed by his friend and fellow-artist at The Tower of Glass, Miss Evie Hone.

Healy, I have said, was a reserved man. He could crack a joke and had a ready smile, but he never spoke of his personal background or history. He left it to be understood that he was a man of the people. Though religious subjects might arise in connection with his work, he never told me there was a reason why he should have special knowledge of them. I did not know that he had once tried to be a Dominican brother and only returned to the world because conditions in late nineteenth century Ireland seemed to him to make it unlikely that he would ever be able to follow in the steps of the great cloistered painter, Fra Angelico. Nor did I know that every morning before leaving his modest lodging in Pleasants Street to go to his work he read from the Divina Commedia in the original Italian. As a young man he had made his way to Florence and spent a year-and-a-half there. A life-long Dominican friend, Father Glendon, then editor of The Irish Rosary, guaranteed enough work to enable the young artist to spend sufficient time in the wonderful little city on the Arno for him to develop his taste, to discover who, amongst the great artists of the past, his true forebears were, and to grow familiar with the temper, the attitude of mind, that would make it possible for him to re-create the great tradition in terms of his own Irish experience and environment.

Healy's work in The Irish Rosary begins in August 1898 with illustrations for a serial story of La Vendée, Sealed Up, (translated from the French by a Child of the Sacred Heart). In this month also he signs an illustration to one of a series of articles on The Convict Priests of '98 by Cardinal Moran; and for the remainder of that year, and into 1899, there are drawings accompanying an oriental story called The Last Crusade by John C. Sunderberg. In these illustrations, Healy, who was only twenty-four, rises with masterly assurance to the imaginative effort called for by subjects ranging from aristocratic counter-revolution in eighteenth century France to the torture of Irish political prisoners in Australia and the difficulties of Christian Persians in the course of a more or less holy war waged against them by influential if irresponsible followers of Islam. The drawings have not only Healy's own beautifully refined quality of line, they also have dramatic appropriateness, expressive movement and an unfailing sense of character — down, in this last particular, to the quiet insistence on the Semitic features of both Moslems and Christians in the oriental story.
But as time goes on, it becomes evident that he was not cut out for a routine illustrator. His illustrations for an article on Saint Odilia in 1899 have a sketchiness, what might even be called a weakness, that was probably due to a failure of interest in that type of work. And in a continuation of a series called Among the Savage Tribes of Ecuador his pencil seems wearier still. A Holy Family drawing that accompanies a Christmas poem has, however, the genuine and deep, though temperately stated, devotional quality that was at all times peculiarly his own. And it has the added interest of showing strong Florentine influence in the matter of grouping and the treatment of the draperies. This must have been executed about the time Healy went to Italy, though whether it was before or after his arrival in Florence is of little importance. For it is only natural to assume that like any other eager youngster setting out for the city of the early Renaissance he would study all the reproductions of Florentine pictures that he could lay hands on.

Early in 1901 he was back in Dublin and reappears, no longer as a regular, but as an occasional illustrator in The Irish Rosary. And now there is a technical difference in his work that is notable if — like everything else about his evolution — undramatic. The illustrations to a story of Dublin slum life called The Coal Porter's Family (by Molly Flannery Woods) show a heightened awareness of what is called form — as distinct from linear quality — and A Family Group accompanying this story suggests not so much Florentine fifteenth century as modern French influence. The drawing is more masterly than ever but it has a feeling for volume, a suggestion of power, that relates the artist to Daumier, who, for all the profanity of his humanitarianism, was the first modern artist to break with the ideally graceful Graeco-Roman forms of the High Renaissance and to recapture something of the more robust vitality with which the stained glass artists of medieval France endowed the sacred personages of Christian history. This suggestion of French influence remains in all Healy's illustrative work in The Irish Rosary, notably in the drawings for the stories, Two Students by W. Flanagan (July 1901) and Edward Fortescue's Wife by Louise Kenny (December 1903). An indifferent but even more obviously Frenchified drawing is Gertrude and Her Puppies which went with a chapter of a serial story by S. M. Lyne. The finest of all his Rosary illustrations, however, is probably the radiantly sensitive Ould Biddy, which accompanied a sketch of an old serving-woman by Charlotte Dease. With the beautifully comprehensive economy of great art, the drawing realizes the nobility, fidelity and intelligence which Miss Dease's text attributes to the subject. This little work might be taken as the forerunner of all the small masterpieces of draughtsmanship inspired by the life of the people which, not for reproduction or for exhibition but for his own pleasure, Healy was to go on producing up to the time of his last illness.

He had also begun painting in oils and in the August 1901 issue of The Irish Rosary there is a full-page reproduction of a Saint Lawrence O'Toole by him. It is not, in reproduction at least, as impressive as the best of the drawings, but it has distinction and it would be interesting to know what has become of the original, and of other religious paintings in oil which he is believed to have executed about the same time. I have been privileged to see some of the portraits and landscape's in oil, as also many watercolours, which he painted, again only for his own and his friends' pleasure, in later years, and I do not think I exaggerate when I say that they include a few minor masterpieces and a very high percentage of distinguished work.

It was about the time of Healy's return from Florence that, on the initiative of Edward Martyn and with the practical, material, and artistic assistance of Miss Purser, An Túr Gloine, The Tower of Glass, was founded for the production of works of stained glass art in Ireland. Those were the early years of the intensive national resurgence in all departments of life which culminated in the military rising of 1916 and the events that followed. During his absence, Healy was recommended to Miss Purser as a likely young artist by John Hughes, the distinguished sculptor, for, before the Italian journey, he had been a student at the Dublin School of Art where Hughes had a modelling class. Soon after he returned home, therefore, Healy accepted Miss Purser's invitation to enter The Tower of Glass. He had to study the stained glass technique under the late A. E. Child who had been brought in to teach it. For Healy, it meant mastering the richer idiom, the fuller means of expression, of thirteenth century France rather than that of the later phase of the medieval spirit which is represented by the fifteenth century painters of Florence, but being the man of genius he was, it came easy to him. With his mind fully matured, and knowing what he wanted to put into his art, he soon outstripped his teacher and was working out developments of stained glass technique, especially in the matter of the aciding I referred to earlier, that were to come to be regarded as peculiarly his own. And thus began the forty years career that was to be one of the richest in the annals of art in Ireland, the career which, all over the country, in every province, but particularly in Connaught, at Loughrea, and of his nine great windows at Loughrea, perhaps most especially in the magnificent three-light windows of The Ascension and The Last Judgment in the transepts, was to re-create in terms of art, the Vision of the City of God.

The Vision of the City of God is something that we associate particularly with Saint Augustine because of his book, De Civitate Dei. And it is therefore fitting that another of Michael Healy's greater masterpieces should be that at the Augustinian Church in Dublin, representing St. Augustine meeting St. Monica. The art-loving visitor to Dublin quite rightly makes a point of seeing Harry Clarke's east window of the Crucifixion out at Terenure. It is at least as important for him to visit the Augustinian Church in John's Lane, right in the heart of old Dublin, to see Healy's gravely beautiful procession of sacred figures, all most nobly imagined and set in an ambiance of deep rose-colour and green shot with gold. If it were possible, one would hardly be afraid to show this window to St. Augustine, himself, and to claim that the modest Irish artist had produced a not unworthy act of homage to his life, his ideas and his vision. (There is, incidentally, one difficulty about this window. It should be seen early in the morning for it is only then that the light is satisfactory).

The visitor will also, if he has time, try to see Healy's Annunciation and Visitation windows at Blackrock College. Less epic than the great Augustinian window, they have caught rather the spirit of the first happy phases of the story of the Redemption of the world as told in the Gospel of St. Luke. And then I think the visitor will certainly want to see the noble window at the Sacred Heart Church in Donnybrook, representing St. Patrick baptising the chieftain's two daughters — we all know the story — and the lovely blue window of the Madonna with St. Catherine at Dundrum.

Finally to return to Clongowes. We buried Michael Healy at Mount Jerome. Father Fergal McGrath, who was Rector at Clongowes during the period of Healy's later work there, assisted at the service.
"Who is it?" the cemetery chaplain asked him when he arrived.
"A stained glass artist," Father McGrath answered.
"A good artist?" the chaplain queried.
"Very good."
And then, unconscious of the fact that he was uttering an epitaph, the chaplain remarked, "Ah! there's none of them as good as the man who did your windows at Clongowes."
I can imagine Michael Healy smiling with shy pride at that little conversation.

(© The Irish Rosary. September 1942)

Ruff

Image by Big Grey Mare
Ruff is the father of many of the puppies whose pictures I post, especailly all the merles (and some reds, too). He and our other male, Rex, take turns out of their pens, but even when in their pens, they pay close attention to everything going on outside. In this picture, Ruff is pretty intent on watching the other dogs.

By the way, Ruff really lives up to his name, and his bright coloring suits his personality.

Kiowa Tribe of Oklahoma Seal

Image by Native American Seals/Logos
PROFILE AND CULTURE

Before the Kiowa people signed the Medicine Lodge Treaty and moved to the reservation, they; were grouped into two local divisions known as "To-kinah-yup" or "Men of the Cold," and "Gwa-kelega", in their association with the Comanches. These two names were local differentiation's equivalent to the northern and southern division Kiowas. The northern division ranged along the Arkansas River and the Kansas frontier. Among the Kiowas, there were six sub-tribes, which formed the camp circle. The sub-tribes were based on extended family divisions, each having its own leader. Each divisional leader and his followers had their own particular dialect and special religious ceremonies.

The Kiowa camp circle faced east with each sub-tribe located in a clock-wise position around the circle in order of rank and importance. The first position was occupied by the largest and most important division of the tribe, which was assigned the task of providing the bison for the annual Sun Dance. The second position comprised a division comprised a division who led the war ceremonies. Next were the Kiowa proper, believed to be the original nuclei of the Kiowa tribe, who were the keepers of the Tai-me and were charge of the priest's tipi at the Sun Dance ceremony. The forebears of the Kiowa-Apache formed the fourth position. A group named after a Kiowa mythical character held the fifth place. Occupying the last place in the circle was a division who was annihilated by the Dakota tribes in the late 1700's in Kiowa history.

Status within the Kiowa tribe was ranked by a series of social classes with the wealthy families functioning as an aristocracy. A person could earn the right to move up in society if he or she acquired the abilities and skills meriting respect and honor required for achieving a higher rank. There were many instances of people rising to eminence from poor and unfavorable beginnings. There were also cases of status being lost as result of a dishonorable deed.

The bison played a significant role in the life of the Kiowa as the major source of food and raw materials for all living necessities. Although the bison was plentiful the Kiowa never killed the animals wantonly, or for sport. Bison were killed only out of necessity, whenever food, clothing or shelters were needed.

Generally speaking, Kiowa tribal society was male-oriented. Women gained prestige through the achievements of their husbands, sons, and fathers. Personal glory for women came through attractive appearance and diligence in learning skills such as tanning, skin sewing and beadworking.

There was another side of Plains American Indian life that was less frequently told. This was the women side; the side of the persons who get the warriors s ready for their expeditions. A Kiowa woman was in charge of everything and everyone in and around her tipi. Kiowa Men were in charge of everything else away from the tipi. Statistically, females form fifty-two percent of the American Indian population group. They probably comprised a higher percentage in most Plains American Indian tribes, for we know that polygamy was an economic necessity to them. The surplus of women and children in a fighting, hunting population must be cared for.

The Kiowa woman, or indeed the woman of any other Plains tribes, was a strong personality in her own right. A weak woman could not have lived with men as strong as those of the Plains, at any time. The Plains American Indian woman exercised absolute control within her home, and a considerable amounts outside it, and still does so today.

Of course a Kiowa lady did not push herself forward, raise her voice, or make a scene, any more than did her Victorian contemporary and counterpart. A wise Kiowa woman got her way and kept her household together as a wise woman does anywhere, by not asserting herself until such action was necessary by circumstances. But she got her way, and held her household together into her own old age, nevertheless.

The children raised in this culture-reflected behavior learned from each parent. Boys were left with their mothers and sisters until they were ten or twelve years old. Then, directed by older youths, they began to herd the family horses; take them to pasture and water in the mornings, and return them to camp at night. Gradually, imperceptibly, the boys moved out of the tipi world into the men's. From herding they graduated to horsebreaking; then to buffalo hunting, and finally they were permitted to accompany raiding parties as horseholders and cooks. Like mediaeval pages and squires, they were learning a man's responsibilities and attitudes by acting-out.

In the same way, girls drew back into the tipi world. They no longer fished in mud holes for crayfish, or twisted sticks into prairie dogs fur to draw the rodents out of their holes. Instead of carrying shawl-wrapped puppies on their backs, they slung small sisters or brothers between their shoulders. The first fumbling stitches with awl and sinew, which had produced a girl's workbag and needle case, were tightened and perfected until she was skilled enough to make moccasins.

The same virtues were held up before both boys and girls. Speak quietly. Don't hurry. Wake early so the sun will not see a lazy child. Remember to say your prayers and wash your face at night and morning. Always be respectful to the old people, and go out of your way to help them, for they are your memory and your conscience.

Ideal behavior was not the same as real behavior, naturally. But the ideals existed plainly for anyone to emulate. Even today, Kiowa parents hush their children when older people are speaking, and expect them to do a share of housework and work around the home.

Plains American Indian women were the day-to-day craftworkers of their people. A Kiowa woman made her home (and owned it); she was dressmaker, tailor, carpenter, cobbler, grocer, and cook for here family. She worked steadily and with pride in here achievements, day after day, year after year.

At the age of eight to ten years, Kiowa boys were called upon to perform the Rabbit Dance of their special society. After their initiation into the first society, the youngsters advanced through the following orders of military societies depending on their sub-tribe or family: "Adal-toyui", or "Young Wild Mountain Sheep", named for the daring and aggressive deeds of the young warriors in battle; "Tsain-tanmo", or "Horse Headdresses," were comprised of five warrior societies; the Wild Horse, the Black Horse, the White Horse, the Buckskin Horse and the Wise Horse Society which usually indicated men who were considered strong in the ways of the Wise Horse or physically and mentally mature. The Tiah-peah", or "Gourd Clan"; the "Tone-kone-gya" or "Black Leggings" and the Eagle Shields comprised the top military societies. The highest-ranking society was the "Koi-eet-sen-ko" or "Kiowa Dog Soldiers"; comprised of ten men picked for outstanding bravery. These men acted as camp police and leaders in tribal ceremonies with the distinction of taking first position in hunts and in battle. The Omaha Tribe gave the Oh-ho-ma Society to the Kiowas in the late 19th century.

Warfare required utilization of shields painted with individual emblems of protection. Women, because they had their own special powers, were not allowed to touch the shields and special covers were fashioned to protect the shield from view.

Among the early Kiowa people, Although clothing was simply made and decorated, the Kiowa, like other tribes, had their own designs that identified them. The specific style of dress carried through the cut of shirts, leggings, and moccasins. For example, the Kiowa man's shirt consisted of a slipover garment fringed along the shoulders and decorated with a minimal amount of beaded or fringed designs. Kiowa men had a distinctive moccasin style with full-flowing fringes applied down the center of the moccasin. Women's leggings or boots had small individual designs and no fringes. Boots were worn during the winter months while moccasins were worn during summer. Women's clothing consisted of a skirt and pullover blouse made of soft buckskin. Women wore their hair in braids and, on special occasions, painted the part of their hair as an added adornment. Pride in the care and length of one's hair was foremost in personal vanity. During mourning, the mother or wife of the deceased cut her hair to a very short and unattractive length as personal sacrifice for the loss of a loved one.

In accordance with early customs, Kiowa men also had a unique hairstyle. The hair on the right side was cut short on a level with the base of the ear, leaving the left side to grow to a full flowing length that was braided and often wrapped in otter fur. Hairstyle was a means of identifying themselves as Kiowa people to other tribes. This was also accomplished through sign language, using a quick motion of the right hand close to the right side of the face with the back of the hand down, fingers closed and slightly curved, moving the hand in a quick, circular motion from the wrist away from the cheek.

The manner in which children received names are one interesting aspect of Kiowa culture. Names given newborn babies might be acquired several ways. A name could be given as a result of a certain deed or act performed by the father. Sometimes, a notable occurrence at the time of birth, or the first thing either of the parents saw after the birth, gave them an idea for the child's name. In certain instances, an older tribal member gave names to a younger person as a means of honoring a respected name.

Linguistic similarities between the Kiowa language and that of other tribes; have never been fully established. The failure to establish linguistic relationships may be partly due to the fact that their last known homeland of the Kiowa was in the north around the British Columbia area. Migrating southward in their nomadic wanderings, the Kiowa brought with them an unknown language. Another reason for difficulty in pinpointing the linguistic origin of the Kiowa from everyday language, was the taboo against saying any word that might suggest the name of a deceased person. Because of this taboo, another word, substituted for the offending word, introduced a new combination of the existing roots.

Not so long ago, as well as here and now, the Plains American Indians have always been people to appeal to the imagination. Say "Indian" to the average American, and certainly to the average European, and the picture you conjure is that of wild, red-painted warriors, mounted on frantic, flashing horses; men and mounts alike adorned with eagle feathers and the colors of quills, beads, painted buckskin, crimson and navy trade cloth, and the dull sheen of German silver. This would be a good description of the Kiowas.

You know, everything had to begin, and this is how it was: The Kiowa Tribe was bound together in its legendary beginnings, when the earth was empty of people. Saynday, known to American Indians as Trickster, wandered alone on the sunless earth until he discovered the Kiowas living underground. He enabled the people, as ants, to crawl upward through a hollow cottonwood tree and pulled them through an owl hole upon the surface of the earth. They were many more than now, but not all of them got out. There was woman whose body was swollen up with child, and she got stuck in the log. After that, no one could get through, and that is why the Kiowas are a small tribe in number. They looked all around and saw the world. It made them glad to see so many things. They called themselves Kwu-da, "coming out." Saynday spoke in a language understood by animals and by people. No distinction existed between the Kiowas and other living creatures. All are of nature's whole, part of the earth maker's creation. When a Kiowa says "Behold, I stand in good relation to all things," he reflects his feeling of oneness with the universe.

The Kiowa, in later years, have also referred to themselves by the name "Kom-pa-bianta", or people of the "large tipi flaps", a distinguishing feature of their tipis. This name was known among the tribes long before their affiliation with the Southern Plains tribes. Today, they call themselves "Koi-gwu" which identifies them as a tribe. A Band of Apaches, later called the Kiowa Apaches joined up with the Kiowas, nobody knows when, and have been with the Kiowas ever since.

The earliest historic knowledge of the Kiowa Tribe tells of them as living along and around the upper Columbia River in the Kootenay Region of British Columbia, Canada. They lived where the springs flowed westward. Up to this time, the Kiowa had no horses and they used only dogs and the travois for travel. Later they acquired horses, which revolutionized their lifestyle. The traders of Canada's British Columbia gave the first written account of the Kiowa in that area in the 17th Century.

They migrated from the Arrow Lakes area in the late 1600's to the Upper Yellowstone in an area described as a region of great cold and deep snow. The mountains in the area, which is now western Montana, are to this day called Koi-kope, or "Mountains of the Kiowa", by the Kiowa people. In this part of the country a decisive dispute between two Kiowa chiefs over a mountain goat killed during a hunt resulted in one chief withdrawing his band to the northwest. These lost people are called "A-az-tan-hap", or "those who went away suspiciously."

The other chief and his followers traveled to the southeast and, for the first time, met the Crow tribe. The Kiowa from the Crow during this alliance acquired the present Tai-me or Sun Dance medicine and the sacred arrow lance. During this time the Kiowa also acquired horses. While in the vicinity of the Missouri River, the Kiowa also became friendly with the Arikara, Mandan, and Hidatsa. After obtaining permission from the Crow people, the Kiowa group settled east of them, then on into the Black Hills about 1780. It was here that the Lewis and Clark Expedition came across large Kiowa encampments. During this time, they came to know the Cheyenne, Arapaho, and later, Dakota tribes invaded the area.

The Kiowa continued downward through Nebraska and Kansas to Oklahoma and Texas. In moving into the Southern Plains area, the Kiowa became allied with the Comanche tribe, and together they became the dominant inhabitants of the Southern Plains. The Kiowa made long expeditions into Mexico, establishing headquarters in the Sierra Madre, from which they made trips all directions, even as far south as Oxaca, Chiapas and even to Guatemala. Some of these journeys are known to have taken as long as two years.

The Kiowas were fierce warriors and are credited with stopping the progress of the Pacific Railroads westward for 40 years. They are also credited with killing more U.S. Soldiers than any other tribe. The Kiowas and Comanches stopped the northern expansion of Spain, France, Mexico and the Republic of Texas at the Red River. The Kiowas started with good relations with the U.S. in the late 18th century until later in the 19th century when greedy special interest groups bankrolling corrupt politicians in state and federal governments began double dealing and passing laws to steal Kiowa rights as a sovereign nation, lands and money that started the conflicts, treaties and legal battles that still continue to this very day.

Sign language is often attributed as an invention by the Kiowas for trade, and spread among the Plains Tribes. The further away from the Kiowas you go, the less Sign language is used or is unknown among some American Indians.

Currently tribal records show that there are approximately 11,500 enrolled members of the Kiowa tribe and still growing strong. While a majority of the people still lives in the vicinity of their original land allotments in western Oklahoma, many Kiowas left the state in search of employment under Federal relocation programs to the major cities during the 50's and 60's.

Many Kiowa people are extremely skilled in making a wide variety of arts and crafts products that provide their family with supplemental income. Documentation of the history and development of contemporary Kiowa art formulates one of the most unique records in American Indian culture. As early as 1891, Kiowa artists were being commissioned to produce works for display at international expositions. In 1918, a selected group of young Kiowas were given formal art instruction through the auspices of a mentor, Mrs. Susan Peters, who later would be instrumental in seeing the same group enrolled as special students at the University of Oklahoma's school of Art. This group which included Spencer Asah, Stephen Mopope, Jack Hokeah, James Auchiah and Monroe Tsatoke, became known as the "Five Kiowa Artists," a term which has remained popular use to this day. The "Five Kiowa Artists" were the first American Indian artists to receive international recognition for their work. The influence of this group upon succeeding generations of American Indian artists, not only among the Kiowa, but among their fellow Southern Plains American Indian tribesmen as well, has been of inestimable importance.

Traditional craft skills are not lost among the Kiowa people today, many of whom are extremely talented craftsmen working in a variety of media including buckskin, beads, featherwork, and German (nickel) silver. The quantity and quality of craftwork produced by Kiowa people places them solidly in the foreground of American Indian arts and crafts today. As a result of the steady production of fine arts and crafts products by Kiowa people, a highly successful enterprise, the Oklahoma Indian Arts and Crafts Cooperative has flourished during its 20-year existence. The Cooperative, an American Indian owned an operated crafts enterprise housed in the Southern Plains Indian Museum and Crafts Center, draws approximately one-third of its membership from the Kiowa tribe.

In addition to their achievements in the fine arts, Kiowas are gifted musicians and dancers. Noted among Kiowa composers of contemporary music include the Cozad family, noted for their contributions to American Indian culture. The Kiowas have always had their traditional style of war dance, call the Straight Dance. Although the fancy war dance did not originate among the Kiowas, Kiowa dancers must be credited with many refinements in dance steps and costume embellishment.

In 1968, the Kiowa Tribal Council was organized to govern tribal affairs in specific areas such as health, education and economic development. In order to alleviate the problems of inadequate and outdated tribal housing, a Kiowa Housing Authority was organized with tribal members serving as a governing board. Many Kiowa people qualified for the housing program and today are living in new homes provided by the Kiowa Housing Authority. However, their are still many, especially the elderly, who need new housing and live in old structures dating back to territorial days because of lack of funding because of cutbacks, despite the housing provisions promised in the Medicine Lodge Treaty and Government Trust Relationship, "as long as the grass grows and the water flows".

Other advancements have been made in higher education with an increasing number of Kiowa students attending colleges and universities under Federal grant programs. Having taken advantage of the educational opportunities provided to them, many Kiowa young people are today preparing themselves for professional careers. With the higher education of young Kiowa tribal members lies the prospect of the bright future of accomplishments and advances for the entire tribe as it continues to grow and thrive into the 21st century.

Today the Kiowas are openly giving recognition to their traditions. There are many Kiowa champion drum groups and traditional dancers in the Pow Wow world. In the 1950s the Kiowas revived two of their old warrior dancing societies - the Kiowa Black Leggings (Ton-kon-ga) and the Kiowa Gourd Clan (Tia-Piah). By the late 1970s the O-Ho-Mah Society showed signs of new life. All three organizations have revived their traditional ceremonial dances with the ancient songs and rituals. The growing strength of the Kiowa Native American Church with its traditional ceremony now protected by the Indian Religious Freedom Act of 1994 also reinforces the resurgent enthusiasm in continuing religious traditions.

Although the tribal members have established their roots in Kiowa traditions, they have not ignored the present. Kiowas can be found today in all walks of life and around the world. As revealed through language, dance and song, Kiowa culture is healthily growing in the present while tenaciously preserving the culture for the future.

Rat Wearing Fur Coat

Image by Lynda Giddens
My poor puppy had too many knots in her and had to have her legs shaved.

(Please note that the weird coloring on the carpet in the background of the picture is some strange lighting effect. After seeing this photo, I flipped out and examined my carpet, but nothing is there.)