Deane created a story with text and pictures in the mid-80s. There are eleven paintings that tell snippets of the story. The family does not remember what he titled the story and only one daughter remembers seeing the book of which no copy or text has been located. The paintings got moved around after the fire. Sketches are included in this set until the rest of the paintings can be located. Deane was the model for the war image and the last three images. Below is a reimagined version of the text by middle daughter Jill. The first paragraph corresponding to each image explains what is happening in the story. The second paragraph are the words on the images.
A young man of modern age on the cusp of adulthood is visited by an apparition who warns him of trappings that would keep him from a successful life. He envisions a portal to a bedouin past.
Wind chimes, colored glass, prisms shooting shafts of light through its forested interior An aviary for songbirds, organ-like chasms recreating the roar of a fast, green river Cool pine scent wafting across its fern-choked banks – a universe in clay But so light it hovers above the arid courtyard
The apparition tells a story –
“What is my life’s path?” a youth asks an elder.
Life’s path, you say life’s path you shall follow the three-fold way of all youths of no inheritance War, drink, sex now go away, I must-must contemplate
The elder drops his jug. It shatters.
The rebels invite the youth to fight with them.
Dust, confusion, battle banners, bugles blaring – the exhilarating striving to master the exacting art of maiming one another
The rebel leader notices the boy cowering.
The glories of war are not for you, boy You’ve not the fine competitive spirit, the pure lust for gore Even the horses scare you, but come, I’ll buy you a wine and send you on your way
The youth enjoys the wine and drinks until he hallucinates.
What do you see flickering in the forefront of your mind that others can’t see? When the morning breeze blows away the alcoholic haze, will this phantom also disappear?
The youth becomes infatuated with a woman.
Two shy young bodies clash and thrash in inexperience. Two expectations carom giddily in a shower of phantom light. Ah, well Practice will make perfect.
The woman leaves. The young man has yet to give up the drink.
But, oh, the price. As though all you dreamed of has disappeared in this one effort. The last phantom light winks out. You who have never mastered the relationships of living beings are left bereft of any company
Much time has passed and he is now an aged man. He wanders and stumbles upon a broken jug that reminds him of asking the elder a long time ago what is life’s path.
A hill, a grove A broken jug, somehow familiar. the unwise wiseman – yes. Such a long life ago And now you are as fragmented as his jug.
If you could patch the scattered shards of your self as you would the scraps of a broken jug
Memory gone blind – A head once filled with shape and color – empty of light
One night, an apparition appears. She grants him one memory.
One memory – perhaps that will suffice
The man is repentant for not heeding her advice of long ago. She replies,
“I’ll share your road as I hoped I’d share your life. I’ll be the light-always in the forefront of your mind”
The young man who had this vision and listened to the apparition’s story came away much wiser.
IngrahamTulsaArtist 