Where the West Begins
Out where the skies are a trifle bluer,
Out where friendship's a little truer,
That's where the West begins:
Out where a fresher breeze is blowing,
Where there's laughter in every streamlet flowing,
Where there's more of reaping and less of sowing
That's where the West begins.
Out where the world is in the making,
Where fewer hearts in despair are aching,
That's where the West begins;
Where there's more of singing and less of sighing,
Where there's more of giving and less of buying,
And a mana makes friends without half trying,
That's where the West begins.
Picked this up at the Arts & Crafts Chicago show this morning at Concordia University in River Forest: it's a 1920s print with a piece by a fellow named Arthur Chapman -- whom Google tells me is a classic cowboy poet -- in the original frame. It's a lovely spot printing job -- although I'm not convinced the bristle cone pine and the mesas make a whole lot of sense together.
Still. Makes me lonesome for the American West.
Also brought home a couple of oak pieces to fill out the floor plan. Because that's the rule: there's no leaving an Arts & Crafts show without a little oak.
