About Doug Stuber

Doug Stuber is a visiting professor of English at Chonnam National University in Gwangju, South Korea.  He holds a masters in English (creative writing) from Holllins University, and a B.S. in Journalism from the University of Florida.  He has published 12 volumes of poetry, and comments on geo-politcal issues and other things that pop  into the lensfinder. He exhibits abstract expressionist art, and toured around the mid-Atlantic in bands from 1987 to 2007. “If you follow your dreams and work hard, the universe will take care of you.”  Doug was active in Green Party politics in North Carolina. “Alternative ways must be made locally, the top is never going to change.”

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80 thoughts on “About Doug Stuber

    • Painting has saved my life….at least three times.

      SOmeimtes I get exhibits. Sometimes people like them.

      Mostly, in times of need or feelings that are just not presentable,
      I make paintings, and if lucky, they get presented. Taking the
      unthinkable or unimaginable or large spread of emotions, flinging
      that stuff onto a canvass, and having it “come out” has been a
      36-year experiment. SO far, so good, I guess. If you want one,
      when I get bakc to the USA, I can mail you one.

  1. Yeah, love the abstracts. I dabble in pen/ink drawings occasionally, but your work is brilliant. You mention NCarolina; I have just come back from a holiday in the Outer Banks – my son lives in Durham – and what an amazing place!

  2. What a bio! So delighted to have you following Learning from Dogs but conscious that you will find writing errors all over the place. Seriously, your interest in my scribblings is much appreciated.

    Oh, and speaking of errors, hope you don’t mind me pointing out that in your ‘About’ text there is a tiny glitch. You wrote “on geopolitcal issues” when I’m sure you meant “on geo-political issues”.

    Best wishes, Paul

    • Not running for office, but helping the right folks run. In 1991 (the primary campaign for 1992) I wrote speeches and was a front man and east coast coordinator for Jerry Brown. In 2000 I was the NC Campaign Chair for Ralph Nader, Green Party Chair,and organizer of 20 new local meetings around North Carolina that sprung up thanks to due diligence of moi. I changed course from Boarding school brat to environmentalist at age 18 in Yellow Springs Ohio asan intern for the Yellow Springs News,and stayiong with my uncle Tracy Logan and myn aunt Beverly Spellman Logan. and then things like this appeared to me:

      Ode to Horace Mann

      Be ashamed to die until you have won
      Some victory for humanity. Horace Mann

      Be aware that energy is life, save some for your kids.
      Be afraid that our minds are bent by news not books.
      Be awed by the healing power of the simple purple cone flower.
      Be amazed that after four short years she knows so much.
      Be awake before the bombs drop, before the money rules.
      Be agile: live in a town that walks and bikes to work and play.
      Be amused by ants and birds, goats and potato fields, lilacs and sycamores.
      Be angry only long enough to solve the problem, then move on.
      Be ashamed to die until you have won some victory for humanity.

      By Doug Stuber,2004

      Poems endedup getting me a professorship, and I ground it out from Visiting professor up to the first rung
      of tenure track: Assistant Professor. Next year I will move from South Korea to NC, finish a novel and then
      move to China for a one-year stint at the Chinese University of Traditional Theater. ROck music gave me a great audience, but
      teaching allows the time to really sink in some ideas.

      • Canary Row Hoe Ho

        There’s a hippy girl in my class who wears Mao’s cap, dates
        a long-haired boy and wrote a kick-ass environmental piece.
        You’d like to poke through every long-leafed elephant-ear on
        campus, stroking nature, this beautiful sub-plot, with hoe, adze,
        al or clipper: chopping down in order to raise back up, involved
        with earth as is intended. Some say a new time has come, White
        Buffalo and all. Consequences outnumber rewards at a twenty to
        one clip, as Mongolians suffer from bad air and China’s expanding
        desert, even though they’ve done their part to live in a preservationist
        way. But global means brutal these days: global trade = wage slave,
        global warming = no food, global war = death for the multitudes,
        profit for the stinking rich few. Love abounds in campus towns,
        while “repo-men” reap millions, and songbirds still find seeds around
        as legs spread out the leaves. Our new man is African, and that’s
        so fine with me, and babies laugh, and mothers smile, here in the
        land of the free. So what that free means money, instead of love
        and food. When no one has a dime to spare, friendship will lift
        our mood. Or will there be the occasional hijacked truck or plane?
        Who cares as long as we can load up the kids, drive south to live
        in a genuine, warm, Steinbeck-decorated pipe that used to be a drain.

  3. Thank you dougstuber for following Tubularsock. I too will follow your work which I have just started to preview. Tubularsock has attempted to limit his following to blogs he plans to really follow and read. I looking forward to your poems, paintings, and ideas. From there the path begins. Tubularsock has just purchased new running shoes ……. speaking of clocks and time.

    • Canary Row Hoe Ho

      There’s a hippy girl in my class who wears Mao’s cap, dates
      a long-haired boy and wrote a kick-ass environmental piece.
      You’d like to poke through every long-leafed elephant-ear on
      campus, stroking nature, this beautiful sub-plot, with hoe, adze,
      al or clipper: chopping down in order to raise back up, involved
      with earth as is intended. Some say a new time has come, White
      Buffalo and all. Consequences outnumber rewards at a twenty to
      one clip, as Mongolians suffer from bad air and China’s expanding
      desert, even though they’ve done their part to live in a preservationist
      way. But global means brutal these days: global trade = wage slave,
      global warming = no food, global war = death for the multitudes,
      profit for the stinking rich few. Love abounds in campus towns,
      while “repo-men” reap millions, and songbirds still find seeds around
      as legs spread out the leaves. Our new man is African, and that’s
      so fine with me, and babies laugh, and mothers smile, here in the
      land of the free. So what that free means money, instead of love
      and food. When no one has a dime to spare, friendship will lift
      our mood. Or will there be the occasional hijacked truck or plane?
      Who cares as long as we can load up the kids, drive south to live
      in a genuine, warm, Steinbeck-decorated pipe that used to be a drain.

  4. Doug, thanks for the follow. I really appreciate it. But I must admit I looked a little like Girl #3 (like what?) when I saw that you did. Anyway, hope you’ll continue to enjoy what I write and I’ll be getting to know more about your work too.

      • Actually, I just realized I have a very strange way of counting. In normal people’s counting, it would be girl #2 (Armani). But I agree, many would be happy to look like girl #3!

      • Indeed, I always wondered what being model-pretty as a female would be like. In the end, I doubt I could adapt to it. Or I’d end up trashed, used up or addicted. Yikes!

      • Canary Row Hoe Ho

        There’s a hippy girl in my class who wears Mao’s cap, dates
        a long-haired boy and wrote a kick-ass environmental piece.
        You’d like to poke through every long-leafed elephant-ear on
        campus, stroking nature, this beautiful sub-plot, with hoe, adze,
        al or clipper: chopping down in order to raise back up, involved
        with earth as is intended. Some say a new time has come, White
        Buffalo and all. Consequences outnumber rewards at a twenty to
        one clip, as Mongolians suffer from bad air and China’s expanding
        desert, even though they’ve done their part to live in a preservationist
        way. But global means brutal these days: global trade = wage slave,
        global warming = no food, global war = death for the multitudes,
        profit for the stinking rich few. Love abounds in campus towns,
        while “repo-men” reap millions, and songbirds still find seeds around
        as legs spread out the leaves. Our new man is African, and that’s
        so fine with me, and babies laugh, and mothers smile, here in the
        land of the free. So what that free means money, instead of love
        and food. When no one has a dime to spare, friendship will lift
        our mood. Or will there be the occasional hijacked truck or plane?
        Who cares as long as we can load up the kids, drive south to live
        in a genuine, warm, Steinbeck-decorated pipe that used to be a drain.

  5. Hi Doug – A pleasure to connect with you here, and thank you for following my blog. The closest I’ve been to South Korea is a visit to Tokyo, where I had a cousin teaching English as a second language. Your paintings are quite interesting – one of the them looks just like the design (including the colours) of a wrap around I have (screen painted)!

    • Dear Sherry- It’s my 7th year of English as a second language i Korea, but I will take 8 months to finish a novel (the first one, The Dinner Party, is all up on my blog in 12 parts) and then I will teach at the National Academy of Theater Arts in Beijing China for a year. Cheers!

      • Hi Doug – That sounds exciting – working on your novel and off to China for a year! Congrats! I wish you all the best on your writing journey.

      • Canary Row Hoe Ho

        There’s a hippy girl in my class who wears Mao’s cap, dates
        a long-haired boy and wrote a kick-ass environmental piece.
        You’d like to poke through every long-leafed elephant-ear on
        campus, stroking nature, this beautiful sub-plot, with hoe, adze,
        al or clipper: chopping down in order to raise back up, involved
        with earth as is intended. Some say a new time has come, White
        Buffalo and all. Consequences outnumber rewards at a twenty to
        one clip, as Mongolians suffer from bad air and China’s expanding
        desert, even though they’ve done their part to live in a preservationist
        way. But global means brutal these days: global trade = wage slave,
        global warming = no food, global war = death for the multitudes,
        profit for the stinking rich few. Love abounds in campus towns,
        while “repo-men” reap millions, and songbirds still find seeds around
        as legs spread out the leaves. Our new man is African, and that’s
        so fine with me, and babies laugh, and mothers smile, here in the
        land of the free. So what that free means money, instead of love
        and food. When no one has a dime to spare, friendship will lift
        our mood. Or will there be the occasional hijacked truck or plane?
        Who cares as long as we can load up the kids, drive south to live
        in a genuine, warm, Steinbeck-decorated pipe that used to be a drain.

  6. Hi Doug, thanks for the follow on my blog. When I read the credentials and bios (like your one), I feel unworthy to post a word! 12 volumes of poetry, that’s amazing, look forward to reading some of your work, Vonita 🙂

    • Canary Row Hoe Ho

      There’s a hippy girl in my class who wears Mao’s cap, dates
      a long-haired boy and wrote a kick-ass environmental piece.
      You’d like to poke through every long-leafed elephant-ear on
      campus, stroking nature, this beautiful sub-plot, with hoe, adze,
      al or clipper: chopping down in order to raise back up, involved
      with earth as is intended. Some say a new time has come, White
      Buffalo and all. Consequences outnumber rewards at a twenty to
      one clip, as Mongolians suffer from bad air and China’s expanding
      desert, even though they’ve done their part to live in a preservationist
      way. But global means brutal these days: global trade = wage slave,
      global warming = no food, global war = death for the multitudes,
      profit for the stinking rich few. Love abounds in campus towns,
      while “repo-men” reap millions, and songbirds still find seeds around
      as legs spread out the leaves. Our new man is African, and that’s
      so fine with me, and babies laugh, and mothers smile, here in the
      land of the free. So what that free means money, instead of love
      and food. When no one has a dime to spare, friendship will lift
      our mood. Or will there be the occasional hijacked truck or plane?
      Who cares as long as we can load up the kids, drive south to live
      in a genuine, warm, Steinbeck-decorated pipe that used to be a drain.

    • Canary Row Hoe Ho

      There’s a hippy girl in my class who wears Mao’s cap, dates
      a long-haired boy and wrote a kick-ass environmental piece.
      You’d like to poke through every long-leafed elephant-ear on
      campus, stroking nature, this beautiful sub-plot, with hoe, adze,
      al or clipper: chopping down in order to raise back up, involved
      with earth as is intended. Some say a new time has come, White
      Buffalo and all. Consequences outnumber rewards at a twenty to
      one clip, as Mongolians suffer from bad air and China’s expanding
      desert, even though they’ve done their part to live in a preservationist
      way. But global means brutal these days: global trade = wage slave,
      global warming = no food, global war = death for the multitudes,
      profit for the stinking rich few. Love abounds in campus towns,
      while “repo-men” reap millions, and songbirds still find seeds around
      as legs spread out the leaves. Our new man is African, and that’s
      so fine with me, and babies laugh, and mothers smile, here in the
      land of the free. So what that free means money, instead of love
      and food. When no one has a dime to spare, friendship will lift
      our mood. Or will there be the occasional hijacked truck or plane?
      Who cares as long as we can load up the kids, drive south to live
      in a genuine, warm, Steinbeck-decorated pipe that used to be a drain.

    • Canary Row Hoe Ho

      There’s a hippy girl in my class who wears Mao’s cap, dates
      a long-haired boy and wrote a kick-ass environmental piece.
      You’d like to poke through every long-leafed elephant-ear on
      campus, stroking nature, this beautiful sub-plot, with hoe, adze,
      al or clipper: chopping down in order to raise back up, involved
      with earth as is intended. Some say a new time has come, White
      Buffalo and all. Consequences outnumber rewards at a twenty to
      one clip, as Mongolians suffer from bad air and China’s expanding
      desert, even though they’ve done their part to live in a preservationist
      way. But global means brutal these days: global trade = wage slave,
      global warming = no food, global war = death for the multitudes,
      profit for the stinking rich few. Love abounds in campus towns,
      while “repo-men” reap millions, and songbirds still find seeds around
      as legs spread out the leaves. Our new man is African, and that’s
      so fine with me, and babies laugh, and mothers smile, here in the
      land of the free. So what that free means money, instead of love
      and food. When no one has a dime to spare, friendship will lift
      our mood. Or will there be the occasional hijacked truck or plane?
      Who cares as long as we can load up the kids, drive south to live
      in a genuine, warm, Steinbeck-decorated pipe that used to be a drain.

  7. Hi Doug. May I thank you so much for calling by and liking my poems ‘ The Party, Lost and Helicopter! And for your interesting poem in comments about Helicopter! And also for wanting to follow my poetry adventures. Great to meet you The Foureyed Poet,

    • Canary Row Hoe Ho

      There’s a hippy girl in my class who wears Mao’s cap, dates
      a long-haired boy and wrote a kick-ass environmental piece.
      You’d like to poke through every long-leafed elephant-ear on
      campus, stroking nature, this beautiful sub-plot, with hoe, adze,
      al or clipper: chopping down in order to raise back up, involved
      with earth as is intended. Some say a new time has come, White
      Buffalo and all. Consequences outnumber rewards at a twenty to
      one clip, as Mongolians suffer from bad air and China’s expanding
      desert, even though they’ve done their part to live in a preservationist
      way. But global means brutal these days: global trade = wage slave,
      global warming = no food, global war = death for the multitudes,
      profit for the stinking rich few. Love abounds in campus towns,
      while “repo-men” reap millions, and songbirds still find seeds around
      as legs spread out the leaves. Our new man is African, and that’s
      so fine with me, and babies laugh, and mothers smile, here in the
      land of the free. So what that free means money, instead of love
      and food. When no one has a dime to spare, friendship will lift
      our mood. Or will there be the occasional hijacked truck or plane?
      Who cares as long as we can load up the kids, drive south to live
      in a genuine, warm, Steinbeck-decorated pipe that used to be a drain.

  8. Pingback: Stuff I Forgot To Tell You | My Sweet Delirium

  9. Pingback: Dora Go-Hosts + Choose Your Own Guest with Doug Stuber, 40 Oz. Pimp | Chris Brake Show Podcast

  10. Doug, nice to meet you! Thanks for your visit, like and follow of Before Sundown! I love your abstract paintings. Each one so far has an impressionable story in color and form. Look forward to seeing more. Christine

    • I have always wanted to thank you for your bravery. You are also super pretty. It is rare to find down to earth housed in such beauty. Thank goodness your personality shines even brighter than your smile.

  11. Nice to meet you! Thanks for following my blog that lead me to your cool blog here!
    Thank you also for the nice words on my Christmas smoothy & I am happy that you loved it too! xxx

    Greetings from a foodie from Belgium!

    • Foodie from Belgium named Sophie. WOW, I’m a beer fan from the USA who has been all over the world, most recently based in Korea for 7 years. I nearly fainted in Brussels, and it wasn’t just the beer. Your incredible main square halted me. I wanted to move in right away, just to be near the place. Anyway, nice to meet you too.

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