Cracks of Spring

 

I have been heartened recently by the sudden cracks of spring appearing in the world.  Yes, a new administration that doesn't embarrass us, a slowly returning sense of some decorum and peace but I mean this in a simpler way. The never-ending snows of February seem to be ending, we've experienced several 50 and 60 plus degree days and I even saw glimpses of lawn. Let's all utter a gigantic sigh of relief!

But wait; this morning on arising and letting little Robin the Good out the door, what did I spy!?!??! It's (gasp!) snowing again! Here, allow me to torture you with a picture:

Oh mercy! haven't we had enough?!?!? (I think you know my answer.) (Robin the Good was supposed to make a guest appearance but ran off way too quickly on some evil assignment of her own.)

I am being a tad melodramatic as it was a mere dusting and now what's falling from on high is simply a mix of rain and some freezing concoction, but can we just keep the sunny warm stuff going?

I was touring my Spring/Lilac/Daffodil Garden area yesterday and could feel the swellings of bulb noses waiting to erupt. And the lilacs definitely show burgeoning tips. They're ready too! The ground down there has warmed, the snow had (notice past tense) disappeared, and walking through this section of the yard was possible without sinking boot-high in crusty snow drifts. 

But I think I'll just keep looking at that hopeful begonia at the top of the page. It knows the light is changing. It's not quite ready to go outside and take it's chances but it senses better weather coming. Another sure sign that Spring is near is the horses beginning the months-long process of shedding their winter coats; my hand comes back from patting Neko coated in copper hairs. And the birds! the birds are singing a happier song!

Life In COVID World: Part 2 Driving Miss COVID

 

One of the strangest aspects of COVID/quarantine has been driving. Let me know if any of you have experienced how odd it feels to drive pretty much anywhere. What I used to take for granted and kind of enjoy- the simple act of driving- has become yet another alien sensation. Whether it was driving to work, or to the store, it was not a big deal. Now it feels exotic and almost forbidden.

This is especially true if you are going to a more distant location. I find myself ascending a highway ramp and having the feeling that I'm escaping, or running away or venturing into unknown territories; and we're not talking about crossing state lines or traveling to Canada. This happens on what used to be a mundane trip to Trader Joe's- a mere two towns over. An illicit adventure!

I've been out more than Bob. Here's his truck, with the windshield wipers up since the large snow event we had... last week. The truck hasn't left the yard since. 

And now we have more snow and even less reason to go out! One week, I realized as I motored off down the road that I hadn't driven in... about seven days. The whole foreign-ness of driving reasserted itself: is this how one steers? What is that third pedal for? Am I doing it right?!?!?

The upside is that we are consuming way less gas than ever before. I can't even remember the last time I filled the tank and it's still 3/4 full. We heard earlier on in the pandemic that the environment was benefiting from all of us staying home. Here we are, ten or eleven months into this quarantine and I don't for a minute think that most people are staying home anywhere near as much as they should. The parking lot for the gym is always full and I see plenty of cars on the highway...

I wonder if post-pandemic all of this falls away and getting in the car and taking off seems "normal" again. We keep talking about The New Normal; perhaps that consists of driving less. That would probably be a good thing!

Life In COVID World: Part 1

 

That's the centerpiece on our dining table. Gotta look at something when dining! The turkey head is gone, the log upended and the few remaining squashes hold court. I provide the picture as relief from the whiteness that surrounds us; more snow on the way today.

I have been considering, as we are almost a year in on this quarantine/pandemic thing just how odd our lives have become. I guess there are people out there who are dining and going to gyms and churches or something. But many of us have chosen to abide by restrictions and stay put. And something aout this last week or so has finally gotten to some of us.

To whit, friends I've talked with on the phone have remarked on inabilities to focus or be creative; even I (hardworking Calvinist artist that I am) have felt less-than-productive. (*1) I think the drain of worrying about mutant varieties of COVID, not seeing family and friends, not attending openings and in-person art events... it's hard! I find myself a bit out of sorts and stuck. Combine that with the weather, which has suddenly decided to play Winter and dump repeated snow falls and colder temperatures. 

And I guess I have to mention here the grim fact of over 460,000 dead due to the pandemic. The cosmic/spiritual/psychic weight of so many people dying is hard to fathom. I know that I have felt precarious when thousands of people perish in tsunamis or earthquakes; a strange sensation of that many beings suddenly gone. 460,000 is a lot of people; that's a good sized city vaporized. No wonder I- and so many others!- are having a tough time sleeping and concentrating!

I will end on a sunnier note. The days are getting longer, people are getting vaccinated and maybe by the summer some semblance of a new "normal" will assert itself. I sure hope so because we're all feeling a tad antsy. 

(*1) Fear not! I have a million ideas and am currently finishing up three pieces and starting three more, but these are occurring at a slower pace than usual.

Bob At It Again!

 

Alright, here's the requisite snow picture. The only nice thing I can say about that is how lovely and regal Robin the Good looks silhouetted against all that white nihilism.

I apologize for my blog-posting absence, but I've preoccupied with the abundance of snow (yes, officially the "s" word) that has appeared outside. I guess I could exclaim, "Finally!" as we've had a negligible amount to date, but I prefer to grumble, "Is it spring yet?!?" as everything is harder and wetter and colder to do when there's a foot plus of that stuff outside...

So while I've been complaining, my partner Bob has been busy improving our life indoors. Remember how he made this fabulous balustrade and railing? Well, he got to work making another section of our upstairs so much nicer.

 Behind the door of our office, there has been a "problem site", to put it politely. We have a sorta-closet alcove that previously harbored a slew of boxes with our accumulated tax stuff and other assorted paperwork. A partial improvement occurred a few years back when Bob installed a random set of cupboards in which to hide our financial records. I scored a low cabinet at work (remember when I "worked"? No, blissfully, I don't either!) and we had always meant to install it beneath the cupboards. 

I tried this one day like a year ago, and was chagrined to discover that because of a narrow strip of baseboard trim, the cabinet wouldn't fit. I mean, we're talking so close and yet so far... Said cabinet then resided in our office, stacked up and unusable until Bob came to the rescue and sawed away that bit of molding. Now the cabinet fits! And we places to actually file things...

Here it is open, with Robin the Good surveying our finances...

Truly, the most exciting outcome of this operation is that Bob and I then spent part of a day throwing out tons (and I mean tons) of outdated paperwork and tax returns from like twelve years ago and random bank statements from banks we haven't banked at in a decade. Liberating! Plus all that paper becomes perfect fire starting material for our wood stoves...

And here's yet another cabinet that Bob improved! Is there no end of his home-improvement wizardry?!?! In the kitchen, Bob had fashioned a narrow cabinet next to the stove, perfect for stowing cookie sheets and other flat stuff. Bob has complained that it was too dark so he took some noisy little tool that cuts into tight places and he created a window.

                                           

Hey Presto! Let there be light! (Yes, that's Bob waving from the inside of the cabinet. ) I fear Bob may be at an end of cabinet repairs; I wonder what he'll start on next?

A Post For All My Artist Friends! (Public Service Announcement)

 

A new piece in progress! One of several. As promised, I am moving away from documenting the many verbal (and otherwise) atrocities committed by The Orange Menace- at last! Good riddance! I am returning to a subject near and dear to my existence: income disparity and the hard scrabble life of the artist. Plenty of raw material there.

So the above is being offered as a semi-sarcastic, but heart felt plea. That phrase, "Just Fucking Buy It", popped from my mouth as Bob and I discussed an all-too-common problem of viewers of art work. Supposing to be supportive, or encouraging, or maybe to make themselves feel like big-time art collectors, people frequently lead artists on with comments like, "Oh! I LOVE your work! I should collect it!" or, "Let me know when you make another one! I'd love to buy a piece!" (*1) And all too often, they never do.

I cannot begin to count all the times that this has happened to me, to Bob, to every artist friend we have. And the sad part is that some small, eternally hopeful part of us artists swells and grows large and vulnerable; we actually expect the speaker of these words to follow through and exchange money for the artwork and take it home with them. I don't even know how we still fall for this cruel ruse. But we do.

There was even a scam going around a few years ago; apparently it's been dusted off and renewed. Artists (myself included) receive an email stating how much this particular person admires our work. They often have some story about how they'd love to purchase a piece as and anniversary gift for their wife or husband. They lead you on for several emails... until the ugly truth dawns: they were never a perspective client. How does this make them happy or excited or aroused? Leading on poor, unsuspecting artists is cruel! Call a stock broker and pretend you want to purchase shares or something! Just leave artists alone! (*2)

 So I retort with "Just Fucking Buy It". Tell me you like my work; relay how wonderful it makes you feel. Or how you like the colors, the subject matter.... whatever. But please don't then feel somehow special for adding that you'd like to buy it. Unless you have a check book, or credit card or (even better!) cash in hand. I- and no other artist I know- needs the hollow flattery. Shit or get off the can.

(*1) And I cannot for the life of me figure why they're sometimes interested in whether I make another or- or one in red, or blue instead. If you're not going to buy this one, what earthly good is another one?!?!?!?

(*2) I recently had a gentleman (and his wife and child) love my original WTF at an open studio event. They came back several times, admired all my work... and then walked away. The next year, they re-visited my open studio, ask about the same piece- was it still available?... and walk away. And then- six months later- I got an email from the same guy, asking measurements etc etc... and then he dropped off the face of the earth. What gives?!?!?

Things To Take Our Minds Off The Next Several Days: Horse Reincarnation

There's me and Neko after successfully jumping that giant cross rail! All 12 inches of it! My riding instructor (hi Maiya!) tricked me into it. Neko was like, "Uh... no big deal" but to me it was a remarkable feat of daring-do! But it does prove that Neko and I are working well together. Goodness knows, something better work well in the next few days, as we prepare to transition from constant insanity into (hopefully) relative calm...

In any event, I have sneaking suspicions that Neko may be the reincarnation (*1) of my childhood horse Dolly. Poor Dolly was rescued- thanks to Daddy- from a starvation situation. Dolly regained her health, if not a gorgeous shape, as she always retained a distended belly due to near starvation. But she was a saint! She and I and Woofie the Dog spent so many wonderful hours riding the blue trails in our nearby woods and cantering gleefully across Grandma's field. Truly a heart-horse that I could trust to never put a foot wrong.

So when I met Neko, there was something that just clicked in me. She and Dolly were about the same size and the same color and have the same funny "blonding" down to her hooves- instead of socks:

And nice hard feet! (Poor Maggie never had good feet. (*2) Neko also has the same coloration on her muzzle: (And such a nice big, dark, deep eyes!)

But most curiously, Neko has a split in her right ear... as did Dolly!

And there's just something about Neko- although younger and more full of beans- that reminds me of Dolly; maybe her relative level-headedness? Neko rarely spooks but carefully looks at things. Neko makes me think of Dolly, had Dolly never been starved and abused. And while you're here, take a look at Neko's tail which is a brilliant mixture of all sorts of shades of blonde through deep brown:

Neko is proving to be quite a good girl. Sometimes, she plays "Miss Crabby Pants" and her ears snap back when I ask her to move out faster, but I think she does this for show. She settles right down and then puts on the Happy Face and her ears go forward and she seems pleased. We have a ways to go before we iron out all our differences, but I for one am enjoying myself thoroughly. Riding takes my mind off politics... that in itself is a healthy thing!!

 (*1) My sister Cathy mentioned the same thing about Neko reminding her of Dolly when she saw a photo on Facebook, so I'm not entirely imaging this.

 (*2) Here's Maggie (officially still Horse #1) to say "Hi", begging the age old question, "Why the long face??!!"

 

10th Year Anniversary Railing!

 

This was supposed to be a jubilant post, my first of the New Year, touting all the good things happening. Soon (not soon enough) a new president, vaccinations coming, celebrating 10 years of life at The Bauhaus Chicken Coop and most importantly- a new railing up our stairs to go with that amazing balustrade that Bob constructed... (what did we do before the railing?!?!?)

But instead, I find myself (and almost everyone else I know) reeling from the crazy-town, rethuglican, trump-inspired mayhem that happened on Wednesday. This is me RAILING against the mob. Has anyone out there ever seen anything like that storming of The Capitol? I mean, many of us are old enough to have witnessed the Viet Nam War on TV or Nixon resigning... but this truly was like a page out of the Shit Hole Country playbook. Scary, disheartening, appalling, disgusting; how many more words can we conjure to describe what we saw. Stupid, ravenous, ill-informed followers of The Orange Menace being egged on by the (non) president himself and many of his fist-pumping evil henchmen, seeking to overturn an election because they didn't like the results. 

But here's another shot of the railing, before I go off the rails:

Look at the way it seamlessly ties into the balustrade! Bob meticulously painted the uprights the same color as my closet shoji screens and the railing is the same ethereal pale blue of the balustrade. I am going out of my way to find reasons to go up and down the stairs, so that I can enjoy using the railing!

Thank goodness that I have a railing to hang onto as Wednesday and the insurrection at Capital made me weak in the knees and sick to my stomach. If I hear one more rethuglican try to imply that "antifa" was present, I'll puke. I needed that railing on Wednesday night after hours-straight watching this awful violent mob smash glass, smear feces, put feet up, stumble around- pointlessly!- like a bunch of drunk teenagers with nothing better to do... I'm sure we all saw some of the (low life) "highlights": no, I'm not even going to re-introduce them. May they all go to prison and rot. (*1)

(Looking back down). I'm exhausted and full of wine and cookies, antidotes to the toxicity and poison that we've all witnessed. But I really need to end on a good note so lets take a minute and toast Raphael Warnock and Jon Ossoff! Thank you Georgia for delivering the Senate! Thank you Stacey Abrams for tirelessly working to get the vote out! Democracy is alive and (somewhat) well.

(*1) At the very least, we can expect many of these epsilon sub-morons to get sick with COVID as this was a super-spreader event par-excellence! No masks, no social distancing and lots of open-mouthed, spittle-flinging screaming and chanting going on.