The Bear Went Over the Mountain

 

Or at least across the driveway! Our neighbor Meagan shot this image of a "large"(her word, but is there any other kind??!!?) black bear, spotted ambling across her yard directly to our yard. Yikes! 

I had just come back in from riding Neko when Bob came down the stairs expressing just how glad he was that I was inside as Meagan had called to warn of the above bear. I'm very pleased that I did not encounter this mid-morning visitor while riding. Neko is a brave and level-headed horse, but I wouldn't want to test her on a bear!

Another shot of our friend, taking his time, out for a stroll while terrorizing the neighborhood. All day long when having to go outside for anything, I was apprehensive and worse, Robin the Good kept sniffing the air sensing something or someone unusual about.

Meagan sent over three shots of the monster. He looks fat and sassy! I am hoping that he was simply on his way from here to there and not thinking, "Gee! What a lovely area! Perfect place to raise a family!" I know they're around but this was a bit too close and in broad day light!! Move along my friend!!

Earth Day!

(This post was going up yesterday but some ghost in the machine wouldn't let me add pictures!)

Happy Earth Day! I guess our present to the Earth has been diminished travel by airplane and car and decreased factory production leading to an all around cleaner environment. Something good had to come out of COVID 19! We're all breathing better if we've been fortunate enough to NOT contract Corona Virus.
But Earth Day dawned majorly cold and windy so quick strolls sufficed for any outdoor celebration. My one big effort yesterday was mixing organic Holly Tone with a wheelbarrow full of compost and applying this to the rhododendrons. I hope they enjoy as they're covered in buds and need nourishment! But I also had to yell (yes, YELL!!) at "the dog" (otherwise known as Robin the Good (ha!) who liked the smell of the Holly Tone and wanted to try and eat it. I hate to yell at (or otherwise reprimand Robin- who can generally do no wrong) but I was so afraid she'd get sick.
So here are pictures of all the lovely white daffodils, surrounded by vinca:

 

I couldn't be happier with my Spring Garden! The lilacs are all budded- even the small ones. Even in the midst of pandemics (you will notice that I haven't mentioned that mess) I am trying to be upbeat, happy and yes! "positive" in this time of plague and pestilence. Again, I stress how lucky Bob and I are that we have a yard and an outside to run around in.

Also, I continue to acknowledge how lucky we are that we both have studios. I've been creating up a storm... well, a few of my new works allude to  the COVID 19 pandemic and how fucked up things are in general...Here's a quick view of two pieces in progress in Atelier Rita:

This one is tacked/pinned together as I arrange the words and get the spacing right. I wanted the text to read as sort of Philip Guston-inspired*(1) lumpy, exhausted schlumpy words. Bob astutely noticed that some of the letters resembled poop emojis *(2). Hahahahaha! I like that as a reference! Remember when "Our Fair Leader" (otherwise known as "The Orange Menace") said that we'd be "so tired of winning"?  Well, somebody better tell him that I am!
And I'm also playing with this beauty:

Yes, "Thoughts and Prayers", another one of those ineffectual "sounds nice but does nothing" hollow sentiments that needs to be retired fast. I actually think they may have stopped intoning this after every mass shooting as that became insulting pretty fucking quickly! I'm working white on white because I felt that summed up the "hard to see how this makes a difference" theme visually. I'm going to be spending the next three weeks of my life embellishing this with equally white beads. Keeps me out of trouble! *(3) *(4)


*(1) A "typical Philip Guston looking Philip Guston.
 

  *(2) In case you missed poop emojis somewhere along the line.

 

*(3) Boy do I like foot-noting my blog posts!
*(4) And why did my formatting go hay wire?!??!

This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

There's been so many things going on lately and our computer has been so messed up that I haven't written a blog posting in ages, despite there being so very many things to report on. Therefore, I promise to compose- in rapid fire fashion- at least three updating posts. I am certain that everyone is on the edge of their seats in anticipation.
First, allow me to state that the photos are illustrations depicting just how weird life with a puppy can be. I don't really notice anymore that our furniture has taken a decidedly odd turn, but to others who visit, our living room must look very strange indeed. Upturned tables and chairs decorate the seating areas of several chairs to discourage Lil' Robin from sitting on or chewing off cushions.

You get the idea. It has probably crossed Bob's mind that we live "differently" than many of our friends (that's their problem!) but to my mind it's simply a stage we're going through. And who wants a living room that looks like everyone elses? House and Garden hasn't threatened to pay a call any time soon...
This posting is driving circuitously to the subject of Robin the Good and I successfully completing our "Family Manners" Dog Class. (Fans have been clamoring for updates!) I think this was a positive experience for both of us: Robin seems to have benefited from her canine and human interactions and I got to see her blossom. (that is, when she wasn't curled up in a pathetic heap on my feet wishing she were anywhere else.) I also got to accidentally offend several people, including the grumpy woman to whom I exclaimed, "My, that's the biggest Husky I have ever seen!" To which she snarled, "It's not a Husky!" Hey! I got asked if Robin was a Flat Coated Retriever, and I didn't bite their heads off! There were several entertaining (or embarrassing) moments as when the instructor held our dog's leashes- one at a time- and we went to the far end of the space and called our puppies. They're supposed to gallop off to their beloved master/mistress without hesitation. Robin went first and ca-roomed back to me so fast; I think I expected all the other dogs to follow suit. But the little Beagle Ulysses wandered off in the opposite direction as his hapless owner called frantically. The giant (ahem) Not Husky sat and barked at the instructor instead of coming to his crabby mistress and the decidedly challenged (or deranged depending on your viewpoint) gargantuan overbred Labrador Sassy just sat there. The instructor gently prodded this oaf with a sneakered foot but with no result. One test successfully completed!

(The dark blob to the left of center is Robin, surrounded by her bizarre collection of "toys".) I will allow that Robin was great at the coming-when-called episode, but proved less convinced by some of the training operations recommended- like touching her nose with a dog treat, then touching MY nose with the treat and saying "Watch!" to get their attention. I'm not sure what Robin thought, but I am imagining it's along the lines of, "Oh no! Rita really has lost her mind this time!" Robin was much better at practicing at home and found class sort of stressful; many distractions and loads of noise! (Including that a "correction" used on our puppies was a sound that then instructor called "EEEENNNT!!" This was described as "the sound of the buzzer on a game show when an incorrect answer was given". We therefore spent many fine minutes waltzing around the room with a constant barrage of high and low pitched "EEENNNTTTSS". To a person outside the door, it probably sounded like some sort of faulty machine turning on and off. Robin did learn how to growl, which I viewed as a major accomplishent. One of the jumbo-tron dogs thrust their giant, drooly snouts up Robin's butt and she responded with a delightful throaty, "RRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrr".)
 I also hazard an opinion that the instructor wasn't keen on Robin as she was the only mixed breed dog in the class. I know that many people are pure-breed snobs and think any dog not acknowledged by the American Kennel Club is worthless. The instructor was nice enough but he couldn't seem to remember Robin's name and he seemed to hurry over us when doing exercises. I do know that two of the dogs in class were also pursuing private lessons with the instructor, so perhaps there was the added monetary element. A lot of good it did, as those two dogs were the worst in the class.
The class also deepened my appreciation for my beloved mixed breed pooches as Robin was among the better behaved students (not firing off non-stop howls or barking at the top of her lungs or dragging me across the room like some dogs that will remain nameless!) Some of these pure bred dogs are like awful hyperactive children: zero attention span and idiotically spastic outbursts.

There she is... our little scholar. All tuckered out! But smarter! And better behaved! And good! (Don't you love that carpet? No worry of spills and leakage here!)

A Eulogy for Jules 2010-2016

What can I say about Jules the Dog now that he's gone? I loved him; we loved him. He was a wonderful dog. It is too terrible contemplating our present lives, without Jules. He was our constant companion and a vital force of nature. The house is too quiet and very empty.
Jules loved snow and tennis balls and chasing squirrels and carrying large sticks. He was silly and funny and smart and tolerant of my off-key singing of atrocious songs in his praise. (I know he secretly loved hearing my nonsense tunes, extolling his virtues, even though he rolled his eyes and acted embarrassed.) He was a truly handsome dog. He wasn't even six...
He has been gone almost a week. I have left a bowl of water for him in case some spirit incarnation of his is thirsty and needs a drink. His tennis balls are here, buried under the snow. I haven't been able to go for a walk yet without him. I have cleaned up all his silky black dust kittens (and he did know how to shed constantly!) but I would gladly have fur-encrusted stairs if it meant that Jules was here. Fuck a clean house!
As is apparent to anyone who follows this blog or was fortunate enough to have met him, Jules was a star.

In Preparation

There I am, hard at work helping with a color check while my good friend (and fabulous photographer!) Carl Weese documents my equally fabulous piece, "Wage Slave". Some day I will relate the story of how my tour de force piece "Wage Slave" didn't make it into my show at Odetta Gallery; but that's for another day!
The show is up and looks... you guessed it- FABULOUS. I am, of course, in good company and the stars must have been lined up just right when Ellen Hackl Fagan, artist/curator/gallerist decided to show me and my showmates. Joe Amrhein, Rico Gatson William Powhida and I make quite the powerful statement. It's been an education thus far and the show hasn't even officially opened. Come on down on the 16th of January (from 6-8) and see for yourself.
I am also fabulously exhausted as Bob and I have been running around, dropping work off cursing the accursed snow gods (who deemed it necessary to drop several sloppy inches of that evil white stuff on us on Friday morning when we were due to be in NYC). Bob and I were delayed by several hours, but made it in to assist in set up. It was another of those million odd anxious moments that make up a life! But the show is up and looks... do I need to repeat myself?

But I did manage to steal enough time to create a "Mini Jules" on our bedroom carpet. Jules is a shedding kind of fellow and in our spare minutes, Bob and I can be seen performing an odd shuffle, raking stray gobs of Jules' discarded fur into furrows that we typically throw away. The other night, however, I saw fit to industriously fashion a shadow facsimile of Jules. Bob and I were entertained (and, yes, we are easily entertained) but I think Jules missed the point and failed to see the humor in it. Oh well! You have to have silliness in your life.

Better Be Seen to Be Believed

No, this blog posting isn't about the Russians invading Ukraine (and a week after the homophobic, dog killing Olympics!) although that's pretty depressing and on my mind. This is simply a posting about random weirdness. Like the above photo.
I have been enjoying re-photographing (Appropriation! Oh my!) things that I have (unfortunately) seen on the Internet. All kinds of stuff is out there; I don't even want to know. Take this photo- please.
We see a dog that looks for all the world like a Muppet, sitting in a bathtub surrounded by mirrors and a lady with a child... and PINK assault weapon of some sort??!?!? No, just tell me where these people live so that Bob and I never accidentally move in near them. But once you've seen something like this, it's very hard to un-see.
Suffice it to say that I'm at work on an artist's book entitled, "Better Guns and Gardens". One of my favorite things about a new project is immersing myself in disturbing and bizarre worlds. Like when I was working on my "A Salty Psalter", I got to purchase strange pornography to illustrate my work.  I had to visit back rooms at magazine shops, where I ineffectively tried to convince the proprietor that I was an artist doing research... no, really! My friend John T. helped out with a hefty donation (Thank you John) of his gently used collection of gay magazines. But for the world of guns, I'm on my own.
It was therefore a bit astonishing that I didn't even need to visit a specialty store to purchase copies of titillating titles like "Power Guns Monthly" and "Your Magnum Force". I simply went to the magazine section of my local Stop and Shop, and believe me, there were several selections to chose from. Does this strike anyone else as a problem?
Of course, this is one of the reasons I'm doing this project. I am trying to come to terms with our nation's fascination with guns. After Sandy Hook and the ineffectual inability of "lawmakers" to pass meaningful legislation on banning assault weapons, setting up gun registry lists or more stringent background checks, I despair. Somehow, Second Amendment wackos (who don't think they're mentally ill; I KNOW they are!) trump common sense and we are left with no real protections. I suspect it's easier to buy a gun than to adopt a dog from a rescue group. Those people run all kinds of investigations on you and visit your home, not to mention you have to fill out piles of paperwork and explain why you want a pet. And they won't give you one the first time you walk into a shelter. But a gun? It's your friggin' constitutional right!

Neigh Sayer

Poor Maggie was so distraught at the cold and continuing unpleasant weather. She seemed most unhappy so I made her morning grain cheerful in attempts to start her day off right. Hey! She has company in feeling that this winter will not end, even if it is "officially" spring. But no one put a smiley face in my breakfast cereal.
I hear there was a movement afoot to decapitate Punxatawny Phil or Pete the Ground Hog. I think his credibility is in the toilet.
On the other hand, I was forced into the bizarre task of shoveling snow into a wheelbarrow (from the still huge pile at the end of our driveway) and wheeling in to the back yard so that the ever enthusiastic Jules had snow ball material. (This was before that most recent awful storm dropped snow and slush last weekend.)

Only for the dog would I do that! Jules stand at the fence and supervises to make sure I get enough snow to keep him busy. Check out the picture below.

Jules is incorrigible! He doesn't care if it's cold, or snowing or wet or miserable, he wants to play ball. I was in my studio attempting to create masterworks and he's begging me to come out and throw his nasty ice-encrusted toys around. But he is cute and pretty hard to ignore. And look at this last picture:

He took off after another ball I had tossed and left a perfect negative print; sort of a canine Andy Goldsworthy. He probably has a career as an environmental artist waiting for him. I hope he remembers who got him started when he gets a show at the Whitney!