Some time back I decided to attempt to sculpt stone. I don’t know what made me want to do that I’m not a very artistic person, in fact, I’m not an artist of any kind. I purchased a set of grinding wheels suitable for use in my Dremel rotary tool. Selecting a stone of unknown variety, I’m also not a geologist, I started in. Well, to make a long story short I wound up with a hole in the stone large enough to hold a tea candle.

So, I had this flat stone with a recess in it and wondered what to do with that. As I mentioned that recess would hold a tea candle, so I thought to use that as a campfire. I picked up two more stones and simply glued them to the stone and painted faces on them. I then ringed that tea candle with some smaller stones to complete the scene. Smiling I call them my “stoners.”

You do have to be from a certain era to understand just what a stoner was. I was never one myself but was in the company of many of them. That was back in the day of “Mary jane” and “ganja” being the new cool, hip thing to be involved with. Far out man. Those little guys are just sitting there with those, I don’t have a clue smiles on their faces, they are stoned! I often light a tea candle in that stone sculpture while composing these posts. It makes me smile.

Now as far as sculpting goes it was a total failure. Grinding a recess in a flat stone doesn’t really count as sculpting. Painting some eyes and a mouth on a stone isn’t really art either. But I don’t look at that as a failure at all, not when I enjoy looking at it. Isn’t that the purpose of art and sculpture? Shouldn’t it bring happiness to the one viewing it? I think so, only way I know to explain some of those “masterpieces” by de Kooning and others. Those paying the price for that stuff must be ecstatic!

Sometimes I wonder if becoming an artist or a sculptor isn’t just a matter of believing that you are. I’ve known a few that “self identify” themselves in that way. Just like that, all at once they call themselves an artist. It’s the same with authors. I don’t think of myself as an author although I certainly write a lot. Still, that doesn’t make me an author. I might think I was if I were one of those “stoners” though.

But really, I’m just reminded of how the littlest things can amuse us. Things that others do not appreciate or understand. Those little “stoners” make me smile with the memories they bring to mind. I reminded of some old shipmates from my Navy days. Those guys that were wearing those “Ganga” tee shirts, peace symbols and had tats of cannabis leaves. They parted their hair in the middle and often wore a headband. Always surprised when they were chosen for a locker inspection or a urine test. Why are they picking on me? Yeah, they really didn’t have a clue.