Karate Swan Meets Arctic Fox

Mama doesn’t want any part of the young arctic fox who is courting the young swan at the left. The fox knows well the damage that can be inflicted by those giant wings. He gave up and left after some thought.

Image by Randy J. Cole
Prudhoe Bay, Alaska
Sept 9, 2004

Drill

Image by Randy J. Cole Sept. 29th 2003,
Random Stone Productions

People ask me often, "so what do you think about drilling?" My answer is always the same, "why not?" It is clear that we need to find away to create newer and cleaner energy but, until we do, we need to still be tapping into our natural resources.Unless politicians get off their asses, and say yes to more drilling, this country will have more than just financial failure to worry about. You cannot simply shut off our oil supply and expect everyone to go out and buy a new bike or hybrid auto. People who work for a living cannot afford that, it is just that simple. Nor can we all afford to run out and buy new heating systems for our homes.
As far as the animals go, They will do just fine if we drill in ANWAR. I was watching the History channel the other day and they had a show about Alaska. They mentioned ANWAR and the potential damage that could be done while showing video of mountains and beautiful mountain lakes and even Eagles. Excuse me, I said excuse me, but that is not the ANWAR that the drilling will take place in. Imagine if you will the ugliest part of North Dakota, no offense ND but it is just for comparisons. There are no mountains, there is most likely small bodies of water but certainly no mountain lakes. I am also sure that there are no Eagles in the area where drilling will take place.
I love animals especially the ones up here. There are a large number of them to see on the North Slope most of which take refuge on the Prudhoe Bay Oil Field. They are protected here, there is no hunting allowed and no weapons except by the security officers and North Slope police officers as well as other law enforcement officers.
It is time to start working toward the new energy sources all right but if you think the current economic problems are bad your gonna love whats coming unless we fill the gap between petroleum and new energy in a responsible manner.

Randy

Clara

Clara attempts to impress the boys with her best PEZ imitation.

Randy J. Cole

Boys Will Be Boys

This week has been interesting. A small herd of mule deer decided to move into the neighborhood. They have been eating the apples at the neighbors house and bedding down for naps. As you can see they also use the time to practice their skills. This is in town I might add and not out in the country. Goofy deer!

Randy

September 29, 1998, Last Entry

The days grow shorter and colder. The date 9/29/2008 approaches and will mark the 10th anniversary of my fathers death. Wilbur Gillian Cole. A house painter and a good father. He worked all of his life harder than most. Providing things for his family that many of the wealthier families could never acquire. A skating rink in our front yard where we could skate into the night while polka music played on the outside speakers. Wonderful memories that make me feel lost as I look at the modern world of video games and skate boards. We were lucky in so many ways.
My father worked until 1986 and had just begun to enjoy his retirement. A few issues came to be, like the cancer that paid him a visit in his colon. He thought he had won that round. Cancer is a stubborn foe, it would return later in his life.
My wonderful mother Celina, started to fade from our lives as well. Alzheimer disease started her down the long road to childhood and finally darkness. My dad struggled to care for this wonderful woman the best he could but when he no longer had the strength, due to the cancer which had returned, my mother was placed into a home in Spokane, Washington. My sisters and I made regular visits to her and she received the finest care possible.
At some point in time, during my dads struggle with cancer, one of my sisters left a message to dad on the chalk board in the basement. Uplifting messages to help him fight and remember that we cared. The messages were written with every visit.
The last entry read, “Dad passed away 9/29/98 3:15 p.m.” We all can look at an event that occurs right before or after the death of a loved one and relate to it as a sign that all is well. The passing of my father was no different in a number of ways. I will never forget the nurse who came into the room seconds after dad took his last breath and in a loud strong voice while throwing open the curtains said, “Oh Wilbur, you did such a wonderful job!” It really lifted the gloom that had filled the room and we started to heal. One of the signs witnessed by someone other than a family member occurred at the care center where my mother Celina, unable to speak for sometime prior to my father’s death, very clearly yelled my father’s name, “Wilbur” at or very close to the time of my fathers death before retreating back into herself until her death in 2003.
The chalk board and messages still exists but I covered the original with another board in an attempt to protect some family history.

Alone

While waiting for my then girl friend to receive clearance to come to the states, we went through a lot of lonely moments. Chaniya had a very sad conversation with me one day and I responded with this design. Soon I will be taking her to the airport in Spokane and she will return home for three months. Loneliness is a great inventor of inspiration but i would prefer to be with her.
The photo was taken on the island of Phuket and that is Chaniya enjoying the beach on a lovely evening.

Image and words by Randy J. Cole

Heart Songs

"Day dreams are but the silent songs of ones heart and soul"

This is one of the first photos I used for a poster and is one of the first posters I sold. One of them hangs in the hallway next to the window where it was taken. The girl remains unidentified today. She was with a group of health professionals that were on the slope for a health fair. She managed to squeeze herself onto this little window ledge that is in a hall way that leads to my office. I asked her if she would mind if I snapped her photo and she agreed. She seemed a bit put out when I asked her not to look at the camera. The photo was taken 11/05/2004.

The Story Behind Random Stone

The Random Stone concept came about in early 2005. I was working on the North Slope and I was feeling different. I was losing my balance, getting very dizzy while tying my shoes. I was worried about the situation and made an appointment to see my Doctor when I arrive back in my home town of Libby, Montana.
The Prudhoe Bay Oil Field is a vast complex covering about two hundred square miles. Just outside the controlled access to the field is an area called Deadhorse. It houses a large number of companies that support the oil field operations. You cannot call it a town as there is no permanent residence. Everyone who works on the slope lives elsewhere and commutes to and from the oil field either by one of two private charter jets, or an Alaska Airlines jet. Like me a number of workers live in the lower forty-eight and travel back and forth while working a two on and two off schedule. We pay for our own tickets to Anchorage but the charter flights to the Deadhorse airport is covered by BP or Conoco Phillips. The planes are co-owned by these two companies.
On this particular day I was standing at the counter in the airport awaiting the boarding process. I suddenly found myself watching an internal movie. The title was “Random Stone.” Now when I say an internal movie I am not talking about a projector or video. I am talking a hallucination if you will, being played out in my head. I was unable to stop it. I was conscious of what was going on and acknowledged people walking by and saying hello and yet the story still played. The colors and characters flashed before my eyes were so real and included such detail including names and even a particularly interesting automobile driven by the main character. I really thought to myself that I had an active brain tumor playing havoc in my head. I was convinced that that is what was going on.
The event stopped as fast as it had started. I was left bewildered and stunned, and planning my own funeral.
When I arrived home in Libby I wasted no time getting to my doctors office. He performed some simple test and determined that I had nothing more than an internal ear infection. Wow, I was so relieved and yet still without an answer as to what had caused the event at the airport. Could the infection had triggered some crazy thespian tricks within the sanctum of cranium?
The event never left my memory. I have two very close friends in Troy, Montana that I visit on a regular basis. Dave and Sandy, and they have provided me with numerous glimpses of what it is like to work with the Hollywood types. They have worked with some of the best, Robert Redford, Steven Spielberg, Ron Howard, and that is just the directors. They are also the people mentioned in my story about John Stamos. While visiting my friends, I told them of the unusual events that took place in Deadhorse. They liked the story that came from nowhere and told me to write it down as a story treatment. A story treatment is a synopsis of a complete story. Dave and Sandy then presented it to a dear friend of theirs by the name of Marie Cantin. Marie is a movie producer with some impressive credentials. Marie gave me some good input on the story and not much has been done with it since except Dave did have a chance to talk to a VP of development at FOX studios about the concept and she liked it. I have taken a number of avenues on this story, but I have yet to complete any of them.
I would really like to write a novel and have started that process. I would also like to continue to pursue getting into the hands of someone interested in making it into a movie. Not an easy task. What I do know for sure is that the concept is different and I am supposed to pursue it. The universe gave it to me as a gift and I need to follow-up on it before I die. It is important to me. The above poem is one of the by products of the event. I made a trip to the very Tahoma, Washington National Cemetery where my story took place. The flag is the one that covered my father’s coffin during his military honors burial in Libby Montana. It was very odd because the cemetery was much like the one that I had seen and to be honest, I had never heard of Tahoma National Cemetery until I saw it in my daydream like state. I was shocked to find out it really existed. I won’t disclose much about the story but I will tell you that this happened long before I had the chance to meet John Stamos, and he was the one that popped into my head as the lead. The story is about a very successful photographer, Jack Dillon, in the L.A. scene who gets involved in an amazing situation with his actress girl friend, Holly. We will just have to see what happens with the project. Many of the things I do including my vehicle license, RANDOM 1 include the name. And now you know the story behind Random Stone.

Muskox

Today was a good day! The elusive Muskox were pretty close to the road and didn't seem to mind having a photo taken. This small heard was between the Prudhoe Oil Field and the Kuparuk Oil Field. This summer the bears were pretty hard on the herds. These ones are pretty healthy and content.

Images by Randy j. Cole

Flown

Flown

There is one thing we all know,
when its time, we must go.

Friends, lovers, sisters and brothers,
hardest of all, our fathers and mothers.

May we pass with no struggle or strife,
leaving fond memories of our life.

When the time to leave is mine,
raise a glass of fine red wine.

As I travel through the unknown,
smile and drink to me, for this bird has flown.

Words and image by Randy J. Cole,

We

The structure of life can be compared to atmospheric conditions that surround us daily. Seldom do days pass without a breeze or fog, or perhaps a slight rain to obscure a clear reflection of our lives as well as the landscape. When it does happen, it should be coveted like a newborn child, with the time taken to inventory what we have and what we are missing.

Image and words by Randy J. Cole
Photo 08/26/2006 North Slope of Alaska