I got a story like that

Artists and Writers…Finally a place to share. The world is a better place when we write, paint and illustrate creativity! All Rights Reserved




I was told that this war would end all wars and that poets and artists from all the lands would tell of this day for centuries to come. I was told that we would all be immortalized and that our children’s children would be forever honored as the ancestors of us warriors. I was told that the glory of this war would come to me whether I died or survived this battlefield I stand upon today. I was told that dying was a great honor and the warriors to the left of my shield and to the right of my sword would gladly lay down their lives for that honor. I was told that my father, his father and his father fought bravely on this same battlefield and that some here today fought alongside them. I was told that I was born to be what I am, a warrior, here today. I have trained all of my young life for this war. I was told that to be truly happy in this life, one must be true to oneself inherited destiny. I was told these things by the gray haired soldiers’ of past wars who sit on the gilded thrones that float above the snow capped hills high atop the clouds that cover the huts and caves where we live. I was told at the great gathering that I would have the honor to fight. I was told that all who left their homes on this day would share the glory forever and as we marched to the border of our lands we march into history. I was told that the following morning sunrise would signal the start of the war. I was told to make peace with my god and with myself and that upon arrival at the field of battle that I was to kneel and pray to the heroes past, pray for forgiveness of my sins, pray for courage and strength.  I was told that upon the rising suns warmth on my shoulder I was to approach my enemy as he approached me. I was told that the fighting would commence upon contact, that there would be one instantaneous clash of bodies and souls. I was told that this battle would last no longer than a breath, a breath taken in and then exhaled outward. I was told that I would know that I had survived the fighting if I rode upon the wave of those who died from the impact.

I remember I was told this just as I felt the sun.


The incredible artwork titled “War 1990” is submitted from our friend Marina Kanavaki http://marinakanavaki.wordpress.com/

The words and the title “Into The Red” is the result of my view

of Marinas work. http://sobnyc.wordpress.com/

Thank you for the opportunity to write.

Steve O’Brien


1 Comment»

  marina kanavaki wrote @

As my word creating capability is very limited [unlike yours!] I’ll try to “respond” to your interpretation of “War 1990” best I can!
To begin with, THANK YOU!
I’m very flattered my work gave you a “kick” to write, especially such a “difficult” [not my words] piece of art [War 1990].
I’m amazed how your words hit spot on the core of my feelings when I painted this. Your story is beautifully told and so well done I read it on one breath! Flows naturally to that moving last sentence, justifying the insanity that is war.
Please accept my appreciation and thankfulness!
Peace [indeed!]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: