See You in Hell!

Flaming day lilies to accompany the incredibly hot weather we endured this week! The flowers didn't seem to mind; possibly because I ran around watering and checking up on everyone. How hot was it? Do I have to remind you? The heat index- a new-ish gauge of climate changes real life effect on us all- was over 100 all week. Everyday was a 3 tee shirt day.

The containers look really good (if I do say so myself...) despite needing waterings several times a day. The lawn is a tad crispy in spots but can also be attributed to the massive amounts of trees/logs/sawdust that continues to occupy our time and energy.
And piles? Anyone want to see our piles? It's been so hot that there was a recess taken from all that dragging and stacking and piling...

Bob and I have taken turns hauling this pile from one area to another. We have lacked the energy or impetus to remove it entirely and take it out to the woods.

You see what we're up against! More piles; they will be with us for a long time. No wonder we're getting out of town for the weekend. Actually, it has more to do with Bob having a sculpture to install in North Bennington (VT) at an outdoor sculpture show. Here's a link:
www.nbossvt.org
We had fun last year and it will be good to get away. A friend (thanks Joe!) is staying with Lil' Robin the Good. I think she knows something is up and she is not impressed!

* The title of this blog was originally going to refer to both the protracted heat wave and the resignation of the evil Scott Pruitt as head of the EPA. (Don't make me gag!) But as I stated writing this entry, I realized I wanted to spend as little time as possible discussing evil motherfuckers like Scott Pruitt. Suffice it to say, there is a particularly hot 'n' steamy ring of Hell for him to occupy and there won't be any second hand mattresses or special moisturizers to make his stay in hell easier!

Insidious Piles

While the title of my blog could be referencing unfortunate fistulas, it is actually about heaps: heaps of everything. Newspapers, unopened mail, books... really, it is possible to construct piles from almost anything. I should know, as I am an inveterate piler-on.
I seem to be in a confessional mode and allowing one of those occasional glimpses of how we live here at the BauHaus Chicken Coop. Bob can be excused from this conversation, as he is much better than me at eliminating piles- sometimes by simply chucking everything in the offending pile into the garbage can. He is less tolerant than I am of clutter.

Piles evolve. They start as a single magazine or book and advance down that (literal) slippery slope towards deconstruction. I like a good tower in danger of avalanche-dom! It makes for fireworks and excitement when the pile finally lets go and everything comes whooshing down. Once the components of a pile are spilled onto the floor, a better assessment of the contents is possible and an edit can begin. Most of what is found in the pile are expired coupons, notes to one self about interesting books or music to check out (this becomes another auxiliary pile up near the computer) and the book that was due last week at the library.

This last heap is particularly noteworthy. It's what happens to a pile that gets moved because friends are coming to dinner. The pile that resided on the edge of the kitchen table now "hides" on the washing machine. This pile may be returned to the kitchen table intact, or allowed to age until the laundry needs doing. In truth, I probably wouldn't miss anything in this pile if someone came along and threw it away. But you never know.
And really? Our house isn't too bad. We clean up the worst of the dog fur and dust bunnies every few days and our bed is made and the dishes are done. It's just that piles happen.

Hoarder Junior

I was reading a story in the most recent New Yorker about how hoarding is now officially considered a disorder. There was a picture of Little Edie (from "Grey Gardens" fame) and I paused for a moment, reflecting that the piles surrounding her looked, well, sort of familiar. I realized that my studio annex, a work in progress!, could have fit right in to their decorating scheme!
Here's athe view in the opposite direction, walking from my studio back into the house:

Even the sliding piles of effluvium rivals Little Edies! I don't think of myself as a hoarder... just an artist with a penchant for collecting stuff that might be someday made into wonderful and profound artwork. And in my own defense, I have been so busy making art that I simply haven't had the time to move all my studio furniture (like ugly dressers full of materials and tall shelving units) in to the space so as to permit me to better organize. Give an artist a break!

And here's what I did the other morning: emptied a whole wall unit onto the dining table. Then, of course, I realized that the table was now full of my stuff* and I had no place to work while waiting for my studio to warm up. So I spent the next half hour trundling the above collection down the hall and into the studio. I got quite warm doing all that schleppping!
I know I will receive no sympathy on this argument. I can hear the voices clucking and tsking about mental disorders and crazy behaviors. (And hey! Come to think of it, I just admitted to hearing voices! Never a good sign!) So the Studio Annex is a mess but the work for my New York show is looking really great. Big messes and hoarding proclivities be damned!

*And the above table top assortment featured important stuff like pre-chewed gum, several air line barf bags (not used), old band aids, about a hundred of those little white plastic stoppers that come in the top of milk container spouts... I guess you get the idea. Art supplies!