Stephen's Painting Studio And The New Novel SECRET GRACES Written By Kathryn Magendie And Published By Bell Bridge Books

     Early this month my dear friend Kathryn Magendie the author celebrated the release of SECRET GRACES the novel that is Book Two of the Graces Saga.  Book One of the Graces Saga is TENDER GRACES.  I can not count how many times I have read TENDER GRACES savoring each and every word while awating the release of Kathryn's second major novel SECRET GRACES.  The author was kind enough to send me a copy of the new novel that arrived by post on Friday the sixteenth of April.
     I was thrilled that Kathryn signed my copy of SECRET GRACES and honored to see my name in the dedication.  She also wrote a brief note on the dedication page informing me that I was also a character in the novel.  As I read with a smile, good glad tears came to my eyes for now I was part of The Graces Saga. 
     It is such an honor that now I feel that I must write, publish and dedicate my first novel to Kathtryn.  Am smiling as I write and Kathryn while you read this post I hope you are smiling too.
     Kathryn Magendie is a well known short story author.  She is also co-editor and publisher of The Rose & Thorn Literary Ezine and a very dear friend who I shall cherish forever.  TENDER GRACES and SECRET GRACES are published by Bell Bridge Books .  Both novels are a must read.
     Kathryn,  thank you.  Thank all of you and as ever be well.
Stephen Craig Rowe
    

Stephen's Painting Studio On The Eve Of Spring, The Ides Of March And An Irish Thing by Stephen Craig Rowe

On the eve of spring light lingers longer on the Ides Of March and thoughts tend to dwell on new buds, sprouts, gardens, the greening and things Irish that Mother has given to the children.  Ages untold carved in stone haunting beauty filled memories of times and words unspoken, yet known in the flow of blood, bone, heart, mind and Spirit of the universe with a slap of the seas that touch the shores and ever call one home.  The air is rich with winter's last chill and sweet damp fog that cause the heart drum like thunder thrill a fiddlers dream in the pipes of the winds.  Ah, the glory of the terrible beauty of the All. 
The roses of a past year only rest as in dreams with roots held warm deep in the earth to gain anew in the light of spring.
Indeed this life is a gift and a blessing each unique single moment a clear calling as we are in the passing and being.
Indeed it is good to be about and poetic in prose on the Eve Of Spring, The Ides Of March And An Irish Thing in the roses of time.
As ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe

Stephen's Painting Studio and Rose & Thorn Magazine Cover Art

Recently I was honored by Rose & Thorn Journal to display a piece of my work for the cover page. I am most pleased by the results and the review of the painting and the Painting Studio by Liam Wilkinson has left me almost without words. I can find words to say thank you, Kathryn, Angie, all of the cast and crew of Rose &Thorn for the kindness you have given for me to grace your page and urge my friends, visitors and guests to visit Rose & Thorn Journal.

For in the roses and thorns a poetic dream is realized that touches all. There, one experiences the word, words, images and efforts that enhanse and enrich the quality of humanity through fine art.

As ever be well, Stephen Craig Rowe

PAINTING STUDIO Sunflower and The Week That Was In East Peoria, and Peoria, IIlinois. Written by Stephen Craig Rowe

Sunflower, sunflower shine on me. So sweet your beauty sang to me. Sunflower, sunflower may you ever be. Sunflower, sunfower brought light to the day. Sunflower may that light never fade.

One morning last week there was a knock at my door. A smiling young lady introduced herself as Alice and asked if I had any children. My reply was that my son is a grown man and in the US Army. She took a look over my shoulder and saw some of my paintings. " You are the artist?" She asked, and I said, " Yes, come in, come in, and see the works."

As Alice was looking at the paintings she told me that she was an exchange student from Estonia. Looking for part time work as a baby sitter. Then asked me if I knew of Estonia. Yes, Estonia is home of the Tall Blonde Vodka. She smiled and kept saying that these paintings are "So cool.", with her distinct accent. I gave Alice a grand tour of the Painting Studio and answered her questions about my work. She wanted to buy a painting to take with her to Estonia but could not afford the price. So, of course I gave her a small piece and on the back wrote: To my friend Alice from Estonia. At the end of the visit we parted with a little hug and big smiles. Never know who will come knocking upon your door. How one receives, greets, and treats a guest gives ones self and the guest a memory that lasts forever.

Not half an hour later there was another knock at the door. It was Danielle a friend and server at Jim's Steakhouse in Peoria, Il. http://www.jimssteakhouse.net/ Danny as I call her, brought me a small jar of home made jalapeno jelly and asked if I would like to join her for lunch. I told her that I would love to but had not shaved or had my morning ablutions. Whatever they are. Grin. We had a nice visit, chat and I told her that I may visit Jim's Steakhouse over the weekend. We then parted with a sweet hug and a wave.

I then chatted a bit with Sassene and then my dear friend Riette from South Africa. Did some communication with friends on MSN Windows Live Spaces, Rambling On, Douglas S. Taylor the author, and others.

Over the weekend I did go to Jim's Steakhouse for dinner. Friday and Saturday nights. It was so very good on Friday that I had to return. Tim Comfort the owner, good friend, and past employer was and is ever a gracious host. Was able to see and talk to some of the guests and co workers. It was a pleasure indeed. Spoke with Dr. Norm Estes, a friend, who is head of the College of Surgeons for the University of Illinois. I gave him an update of my condition and he offered to write or call my surgeon and told me that the facility in Indianapolis is where Lance Armstrong was cured. I also spoke a bit with the prominent Peoria lawyer Joe Napoli, also a good friend, as well as Bruce Saures former owner of the local hockey team and a Peoria landmark. Then as the night was drawing to an end Kim Armstrong from the Peoria Art Guild brought in some performers from the Peoria Blues Fest. I had to say hello and mingle a bit. Exchanging musical tid bits and such.

I also joined http://www.peoria.com/ just because I have been part of the community since 1995. In spite of trials, tribulations, trouble and strife have a feeling that I have left a positive mark on the community that I serve with fine art, wit, my twisted humor and sometimes bad poetry. On that note I must be off for another road trip and dose of chemo. In the mean time,

As ever be well.

Sun flower sunflower shine on me. For the light of your flower shall ever be.

Stephen Craig Rowe

RAIN ON THE MOUNTAIN A Song Poem by Stephen Craig Rowe

" In the space between the words poetry is

best spoken aloud, quiet and near the fire. "

Stephen Craig Rowe

The eyes spark alit in the embers of words quietly spoken, ever remembered in texture, tone, shape, form, rythem and grasp. There she came nearly frozen from winter's crewl grip in silence with a heart full of life, yet nearly stone cold, alone and removed from the fire sweet warm and light.

In the shadows she sang quiet in the meadow, real as the dream within. Walls strong enough to sustain and repel the Ice Princess and the Snow Queens clear blue kiss. Rain, rain, rain, spring rain mist the mountain. Hear her caw and calling. Late in the night, past the midnight hour. Dare to watch the stars and drink the silence.

Ever clear as a kiss of rain upon a rose or tossed about on a leaf reflecting the

light of stars splashed on all of the oceans

of the worlds.

Is it one thing? Or another? Here there and ever, never everywhere.

Knee deep in rose petals she danced in the Spring laughing in the creeks, rivers and streams. Dancing on the seas. As bright as Moon light, and as free as the salt sad burning tears of joy and rapture

that scar

then heal.

Fingers trace

blind signs.

As the Spirit sings that ever special note. The word from within that has ever been and ever shall be best spoken, quiet near the fire, and the light in your eyes. For there one becomes the space between the words and God willing experience

Poetry.

As ever be well. Stephen Craig Rowe

No espaço entre as palavras é poesia melhor falado em voz alta, calma e perto do fogo. " Stephen Craig Rowe Os olhos faísca alit brasas no silêncio das palavras faladas, sempre lembrado na textura, tom, forma, forma, ritmo e alcance. Aí ela veio quase congelado de inverno da crewl grip em silêncio com um coração cheio de vida, ainda cerca de pedra fria, sozinha e retirado do fogo doce quente e luz. Nas sombras ela cantou calma no pasto, como o verdadeiro sonho dentro. Muralhas forte o suficiente para sustentar e repelir os Ice Princess e da Neve Queens azul claro beijo. Chuva, chuva, chuva, chuva Primavera névoa da montanha. Crocitar e ouvi-la chamando. Atrasos na noite, passada a meia-hora. Ouse ver as estrelas e beber o silêncio. Ever clara como um beijo de chuva sobre uma rosa ou atirados sobre uma folha refletindo sobre o luz de estrelas splashed sobre todos os oceanos dos mundos. Trata-se de uma coisa? Ou outro? Aqui, e nunca, nunca em toda a parte. Joelho profundas no rose petals ela dançou na Primavera rindo nas enseadas, rios e córregos. Dançando sobre o mar. Lua tão brilhante como luz, e tão livre como o sal queima tristes lágrimas de alegria e arrebatamento a cicatriz então curar. Dedos traço Sinais cego. Como o Espírito que canta sempre especial nota. A palavra de dentro do que já foi e sempre será melhor dito, calma perto do fogo, e à luz dos seus olhos. Para existir um torna-se o espaço entre as palavras e se Deus quiser experiência Poesia. Como sempre estar bem. Rowe stephen Craig

THE GREEN WALL A Walk Of Words By Stephen Craig Rowe

The effort of the lands and hands that ever try to lay back the green are but a false hope.  A half filled sand bag thrown into raging flood waters ever rising and quenching earths deep thirst to draw man beyond the madness of holding her. 

Translating the tides to fit a neat bit for a short time only is as selfish a task as drinking the whole cold creek dry.

For a time.  And the old world had no blinds or walls or words.

When the green was the garden of all and creatures had no walls to wait for the slash and burn.

Old worn hands and faces, generations of walls, wailing streets, sad windows and fences will never hold back the green walk of words

well spent

For there are no walls to hold back the green.

As ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe 

Spring and Signs of Life a New Day Turn Within And Without by Stephen Craig Rowe

Just the other day I was talking to a friend in Kokstad, South Africa about all manner of things as friends do talk about. The past, present, the now, and future. My current ills and healing and events in her part of the world. Then she asked me if I had any dreams. Before I could answer there was an activity on my street. Sirens and such three or four doors down about a flair up or whatever. I excused myself and went to the porch to snap a pic or two. It was all over before I knew it was about and the fire men were folding the hoses. Attention to detail is paramount to attention to flighty events. Though half a world away, I would rather be there than in the blind. In the dreams and in the hands and heart. There was a break in the clouds and was able to place my hands in the garden for some signs of life.

My thought was so beyond words. Then bent for some signs of life of last years roses and I was amazed

The greening and colors took me by

The Day Lily poking her head in my happy face! A good day is a long day in the light. As ever be well, With love, Stephen Craig Rowe
By the by, Tender Graces the Novel by Kathryn Magendie to be released in April is available for pre order http://www.bellebooks.com/books/TenderGraces.asp