12” x 12” • Mixed Media on Canvas
To begin my past influenced my styles. I am somewhat of a loner. My childhood Was filled with isolation. As a child I collected rocks, dug mud out of the clay pits Next to my house. When I create it seems to get stuck in my brain and will not let me rest until it is released and escapes thru my hands like poetry. That is why I am a mixed media artist.
Originally, I grew up outside Phila, Pa. and moved south in the late 1970’s I went to school for Commercial art. And worked at a graphic art company doing maps and drafting work. My grandmother was my greatest influence. She was the greatest artist I knew. Her hands could make anything out of trash. The mixed media bug is in my blood.
Past projects include Richland County art commission door project. SAMA Mosaic Show 2003 Miami Show 2nd place. SC state fair several purchase awards, 2 place award, Dot Ryall Award. Tapps Show Midlands Clay and self-show windows.
Artist Guilds: Trenholm Artist Guild, Cayce artist guild, South Carolina artist guild
Inspired by the experiences of David Robinson
Across The Sea
by David Robinson
What a journey for me
to cross the sea,
to have known the
things that I had to see.
First was a man they called a V.C
and he was trying to kill me.
Oh, the training they gave as best they could,
but it was much different across the Sea,
things I had never seen,
names I had never heard, nor could say:
Long Binh, Da Nang, Cam Ranh Bay,
Chu Lai; and many more:
frag, M-79, M-60, Claymores,
C Rations, Gunships, choppers,
fire base, and NVA.
This was so different across the sea,
especially for a country boy like me.
Names of things like dust-off, evacuation,
hospital, amputation, K IA, medevac.
How those names scared me.
Because I knew there would be names
of comrades, friends, buddies; and, yes,
brothers I would never see again.
How sad we didn’t have time to weep or mourn.
We had to stay alert and on guard and pray
there would be no more.
There came the day I could go back
over the sea.
What a welcome sight this was going to be
Back to a land I call home.
They would be so glad to see me;
But, when we landed on shore,
there were people who acted
like they didn’t like me anymore.
I heard names I had never heard before:
war monger, baby killer and more.
I thought, No, I’m back across the sea.
These things should be familiar to me.
Then I thought: I’ll forget it all,
so I hid the reminders: the pictures,
the uniforms, the Ho Chi Minh sandals, all the rest.
I’ll not talk of all I’ve been through, so it will go away.
But the memories
and dreams: they stayed
and I started feeling
I’m the only one this way.
Then thirty years or so I
heard about a reunion.
At first, I thought I don’t
want to go.
But I decided I would
and so glad I did.
It was mind-boggling and too hard to
all these brothers and we all felt the
How could I ever forget brothers like
To meet their families: what a joy,
and remember we met when we were just boys.
To talk of the good times we had
and very seldom speak of the bad.
I think of what would my life be
if I’d never had to cross the sea.
But if I had not,
then I would never have met
brothers like these.