HORIZONTAL MYSTERY SHIP when you leave at seventeen rarely home more than two weeks at a time months, years and decades can be surprisingly unreliable markers of adulthood only once in the summer of ‘88 a recent college grad wide-eyed and wanderlust-fueled my tonsils required more I stayed a whole month once healed, packed, and in possession of necessary visas off to the southern hemisphere a young pioneer in search adventure and different stars now, when visiting after a lifetime lived elsewhere grey hairs visible no matter my efforts I find myself sliding into a peculiar second adolescence of sorts driving Dad’s truck windows down, hair blowing mile after mile of expansive, wild beauty the prairie a determined cellular homesteader forever staking a claim in my blood and bones I want to sneak out to the bar play Space Invaders sadly, no longer a standard unlike 1982 drink beer, eat junk food and avoid the endless expectations of being a grown-up Looking back with midlife sensibilities I realize those late nights in high school tenth grade, I believe laser focused, playing Space Invaders provided a surprisingly valuable education initials entered, quarters stacked protect the bunkers, defeat the aliens monitor the horizontal mystery ship with vigilance my peripheral vision unknowingly trained to notice things beyond immediate scope bonus points pinged while friends waited impatiently twenty more minutes, please under a waning August moon only one lunar phase ago I was still my father’s daughter a middle-aged, South Dakota teenager pretending time actually plays tricks wanting desperately to disregard reality one more visit on the calendar one more phone call cheeseburger or ice cream cone one more evening watching Everybody Loves Raymond M.A.S.H. or Mayberry RFD twenty more minutes, please quarters stacked no longer Space Invaders the nearly forgotten teenage relic of a heartbroken fifty-something fatherless daughter once again, I am protecting my bunkers monitoring a new horizontal mystery ship paying very close attention to what's just beyond my immediate scope just twenty more minutes, please
Tag Archives: prairie
South Dakota. inspired.
This is one of the items in the silent auction at the Billie Sutton Grit for Governor event this Saturday, November 18th, in Burke, South Dakota. The imagery of road, earth and sky are meant to give a sense of spaciousness like the prairie. This bag has been sanded, ironed, hammered, painted and sanded again. I like my work to look a little tattered, worn out and yet, still hanging in there.
I wanted this project to reflect my love of South Dakota and acknowledge the road ahead for the SUTTONforSD team. This gubernatorial race requires a lot of heart, courage and grit. I suspect there will be times when everyone is going to be a little tattered…and yet, somehow, still hanging in there.

The road to me is about leaving, coming home, exploring points unknown & so much more. I never get tired of working with road imagery. My creative inspiration for this bag came from Mexican artist, Frida Kahlo (who made a lot of her own wardrobe and accessories) and Calamity Jane (who wore a lot of men’s clothing). These women had a lot of duality and refused to conform to social norms…talk about grit.

Billie Sutton is married to my niece, Kelsea Kenzy Sutton and grew up in my hometown. He’s currently South Dakota’s State Senate Minority Leader (and the father of my brilliant & hilarious great-nephew, Liam). This gubernatorial race is one to take notice of, regardless of where you live. Please take some time to visit their campaign site. The link is below.
Now, won’t election day 2018 be even more fun now that you’re paying attention to South Dakota Governor’s race?
Go ahead, share the link, make a donation & really have some skin in the game.
https://www.suttonforsd.com/









