A Reseasonable Rant

 

Above, a work in progress "Long Suffering Artist" a tribute to all of us artists; "We don't get no respect!" I know there is a popular myth that many people share: artists are just laying about, drinking martinis and absinthe before noon and then sleeping with their models. Artists are always whining and complaining while living a life of indolence and self pity. And artist have it so easy: all they have to do is smear some stupid colors all over a canvas and indulge their juvenile fantasies and then wonder why they're perpetually misunderstood.

In reality, most artists that I know are diligent hard-working, thick-skinned individuals that ask little but are treated like shit in return. We are constantly being harangued into schlepping our work all over kingdom come in the off-chance that the "opportunity" is worth it and some collector/curator/art world celebrity will perhaps throw a glance in the direction of our work. (Often poorly hung by a fire extinguisher or exit sign.) We're also endlessly being asked to donate to some good cause. (*1) Typically that "good cause" is for the self-serving non-profit organization (*2) asking for the donation; as in, "We're having a fundraiser and we're asking YOU to donate a work. And then you can pay another $75 (or $100 or $150) to attend the fundraiser". What a great deal!

I also have to point out the "thick-skinned" aspect of my above piece. Artists have to cultivate  thick skin so all the undeserved criticism they hear can just bounce off. Rejection, rejection and more rejection! And some how, the poor artist has to keep smiling and working and believing in themselves. Try doing this for fifty or sixty years! Even bad real estate agents (or dentists or mailmen) get paid! Everybody's got an opinion...

Anyway, I'm ranting today as I've just been asked to jump through a few too many hoops. I'm tired of being "carroted and stick-ed" with the observation that, "There will be lots of publicity!" or "The exposure will be good!" Ha! Usually, there's just the deafening silence of the void, staring back at you. And the worst part is that I feel a hypocrite as I am so terrified of not getting recognized that I make bad equations and play along. I am an art whore. I am embarrassed to admit that I am contemplating making an entirely new piece for a show (that I might not even get accepted to) that I only have three weeks to complete as it has to be a specific size... and it's not small! (*3) 

What's an artist to do?!?!?

(*1) Yes some are legit- like to raise money for a food bank or Ukrainian refugees. That I (and most artists) gladly do... and often.

(*2) We have a friend who said that people join boards of non-profits to get a parking space for their BMW's. Seems right to me!

(*3) Don't even get me going on "themed shows" where the work has to be about some inane thing I would never contemplate creating work about...All artists have at least a flat-file drawer full of work created for a theme that they're stuck with.

April Fools!

 

Yes, a few days early for the first of April, but there was snow this week- after having sunny, sixty degree days. Gotta love the weather.

Today may be April Fool's Day but I think I accidentally celebrated yesterday. Maybe I started off on the wrong foot, thinking it was April 1st and thinking to be oh-so-clever, I pranked our poor doggie Robin the Good by putting only a single piece of dog kibble in her bowl for breakfast. She looked at me with a truly withering "oh you're SO funny" look; I hastily replenished her bowl! I then discovered that it was actually March 31st, so the "joke" was on me.

(Above, long-suffering dog who tolerates my sometimes not very funny antics. She must wonder how she wound up in a household like this!)

So the bigger joke of the day was that Mr. Coffee had "shit the bed" so to speak, and was refusing to produce caffeinated brown water to fuel our day. Bob resorted to making coffee with a Melittta filter that we had but we both realized we needed a new machine. We researched on line and were surprised to see that plain old non-electronically equipped Mr. Coffee makers were surprisingly hard to come by. We could order one, but then we'd have to wait a week or so for delivery. (I'm assuming it's the old "supply chain" excuse is to blame.) But then I thought to try our brand new, giant TrueValue hardware store. On line it announced they did indeed have what we wanted, and we even had a $5 off coupon. 

Additionally, my car key somehow had become bent (still usable, but it had a weird cant to the left) Bob had been urging me to take his key and get a copy made. I thought I was so smart: I'd get two things done at one place. I gathered my bag and sunglasses and Bob's key and went out to the car. I even remembered the coupon!

As I entered the car, bending over to place my handbag on the passenger seat, I heard a quiet- but distinct- tink! The sound of something falling and hitting something metal... Bob's key! It had escaped from my hand and landed somewhere in the center of the car. I will not strain your patience with how- for the next twenty minutes- I reached beneath every crevasse between the seats, under the carpets; I looked everywhere. I finally gave up, knowing the key was somewhere in the car but mysteriously hidden. 

 I made it safely to the hardware store where a nice young man looked fruitlessly through several thousand blank keys only to inform me that they really were having trouble getting old blanks for Hondas, Toyotas and Accuras. He came up empty handed but helpfully offered to straighten my key out. Having not succeeded at one task, I then inquired where they kept the coffee makers. Of course, there were no simple white Mr. Coffee machines. Only elaborate, expensive, technologically-driven contraptions with all the bells and whistles were in stock. I ordered one; it's supposed to come next Monday but do we believe this?

I then proceeded to another hardware store(where I sometimes buy horse food) and they also looked dubious when I presented my key. Apparently, Trusty the Accord really is an antique (1997) and key blanks of ancient times are had to come by. Fortunately, the "gentleman" (*1) who waited on me was able to find a blank similar enough to make me not one but two!! new keys. I tried them, they worked so all's well that ends well. 

I tried two other local stores... do you think anyone would have a simple 12 cup coffee maker? Nooo! But at least I had three car keys, and a Mr. Coffee on order. When I arrived home and told Bob of my morning frustrations, he went out to the car and it took him all of three seconds to determine that his key had fallen into the tiny slit by the side of the emergency brake. We now have no coffee maker and four car keys...

(*1) The particular employee at this hardware store is not one I'm ever happy to have wait on me. He is a religious-maniac, gun-toting weirdo. He once harangued Bob and I for a good twenty minutes in the parking lot as to why the 2nd Amendment is next to godliness or some such quackery. I try to avoid him since this encounter even though he tries to be especially deferential and helpful- probably becasue we could have complained to his boss about his unwelcome proselytizing and gotten him fired.

Calvinists Just Want to Have Fun

 

We have a good friend who has on several occasions referred to Bob and I as Calvinists. I am certain that his facetious reference alludes to what he sees as a sober, hard-working couple whose idea of fun is well, sober and hard-working. I don't know about the "sober" aspect (as we do enjoy our tipple!) but I suppose the hard-working label has some truth to it. I offer the above picture for illustration.

One end of my riding area is low and because I have to squeeze every square foot of available flat land to use for my equestrian pursuits (*1), I thought to raise this end up by adding dirt. But before dirt must come rocks to stabilize and fill in some of that space that needs raising.

This requires moving rocks- of which we have plenty!- from point A to point B. There's a heap of rocks where several large trees fell down at the edge of the horse field, fortunately not too far from my low area. This necessitates pilling the rocks into the wheel barrow. Oh! We love our wheel barrows! Probably one of our most useful tools...

I transport the rocks in smaller "lady-like" loads as I am a small Calvinist and not as strong as my male counterpart. But I get the job done, singing stirring Calvinist hymns as I go. Many barrowsful did I schlepp today! Along with "contami-poop" (*2) as dirt is in short supply. The "contami-poop" fills in the spaces between the rocks and cover them. I will then add more dirt on top. Use what you have!

Yes, I realize the partially broken down manure will settle and sink, but it's available and there's more to add if it sinks a whole lot. In the meantime, I'm making progress and having a blast. I don't know about you, but even if something is hard physically, it can still be pleasant. Besides, I get the pleasure of knowing that a bit of labor makes my riding experience more fun. Anyone interested in a real good time can feel free to come on over and help me work!

(*1) The "official" size of a small dressage arena is 60' x 120' I am a tad tight on one end width-wise... the end I'm attempting to make higher. When you're piloting a 1000 pound beast around at speed, every foot counts!

(*2) "Contami-poop" is the horse manure I sequestered while Neko was on antibiotics for her Lyme disease. I also save aside the manure produced when I administer horse wormer (Yes! Ivermectin! Hard to find these days because of (ahem) alternative use as a COVID therapy. So this manure is not good for use in composting for garden use, but perfect for filling holes.

 

 

You Tote 16 Tons...

 

Bob gets a steel delivery fairly often as he makes his metal supports for plants out of various strips and rods. Often, the amount he gets is "reasonable"and he simply drags it on a wheelie cart down to his studio. But if he gets a particularly large, heavy shipment and the ground is firm enough, he drives it down. Fortunately, the ground was still frozen, as the above delivery was particularly large! Apparently, the steel company either did a job and the measurement was wrong or there was a serious amount of "drops" (*1) and they offered them to Bob cheap. He jumped at the opportunity to get a slew of steel in a size he often uses... but it was a really big load!

Maybe this doesn't look like a huge amount to you but believe me, it was a ton (literally!) of steel. I like to help Bob out by assisting him in relocating the steel from our driveway, down to his studio. I can't even imagine how hard that would be to schlepp all of that metal by oneself, let alone how long it would take. Besides, it was supposed to rain tomorrow and Bob didn't want the steel to get wet and then rust making for a lot more clean up.

So step one was simply picking all that steel up and loading it onto the truck. (We did about a third of it on the previous day as there was waaaaaaaaaaaaay too much to consider doing all in one morning.) So we made four trips down with approximately the same amount of steel bands, picking them up from the driveway and then unloading them at Bob's studio.

Above, an interior shot of Bob's studio, where all that steel was being stored. Just for context, there were 672 bands of steel, each about 68 inches long. It felt like more! I off-loaded them from the truck and Bob stacked them in the above corner of his studio. Need I tell you we're both pretty tired now? But at least the steel is where it needed to be and we don't have to do anything like this again, any time soon!

There's Bob and his glow-in-the-dark hands, standing on a pile of 20 foot lengths. We'll sleep well tonight!

(*1)  Drops are the left over "scraps" after the size that was ordered was cut from the 20' piece.

A World of Shit

 

Originally, this was meant to be a light-hearted blog post about how much horse poop I am surrounded by on a daily basis. (*1) Two horses produce quite a lot of feces in the average 24 hour cycle, but hideous weather where everything froze up into thousands of rock-hard equine byproduct pyramids has rendered our horse field a truly sordid mess... and that was the funny idea for a post! Hahahha!!

Close up of multi-layered poops. Sometimes it seems the horses are "trying to help" by eliminating multiple times in one spot. I dunno; what occurs is shit insulation that makes the whole lump harder because ice forms and doesn't thaw underneath. I can't win! 

Here's Mount PoopMore. And see all the lumpy darker items in the background? Yes, more horse shit! That chestnut-colored item off to the upper left is one of the instigators of all this mess.

But my point is... the world is shit! I am so freaked out/disgusted/angry/scared/horrified at what putin has done in Ukraine! We are surrounded by shit, and the shit produced by other people! So it's not awful enough that we're (still) in a pandemic, have Climate Crisis to deal with, have half of our country's population getting weirder and scarier by the minute... and now we have to consider the distinct possibility of nuclear annihilation? No wonder I'm exhausted!

Although this was a pretty funny scene: I looked out our back door and wondered why Neko seemed so tall. On closer inspection it was because she had scaled Mount PoopMore- maybe to see what she could see? Who knows what goes on in the horsey mind?!!

And now putin has apparently put nuclear forces on alert?!?!?!?! Aughh! Will we live to experience Mardi Gras? (*2) Will I ever get my field cleaned up? Will it even matter?!?!?? (*3)

Picture of other suspect, Maggie. A million years old and still going (somewhat) strong. Included for no other reason than she produces 1/2 of all the equine excrement littering our fields and our lives. She shouldn't be left out!!

(*1) Typically, I keep a rigorously clean field and shovel the daily output of poop into glamorous piles which are then directed to our composting piles. Hygienic and productive!

(*2) Bob and I are going out to try and score a King Cake today. Maybe this will cheer me up!

(*3) Oh yeah: Fuck putin. I've gotten all existential...

A Little Climate Crisis, Anyone?

 

Above, my latest piece "For Greta", obviously channeling her amazing statement to world leaders during the last Climate Summit. (Wasn't it called something unfortunate and forgettable like "COPS 27"?) I share Greta Thunberg's concern that world leaders- or almost anyone else!!- aren't doing enough to halt our escalating climate crisis. Every day there are more stories of rapid sea level rise or ice chunks the size of Rhode Island breaking off and tumbling into the ocean. Not to mention fire tornadoes, floods, typhoons and other random disasters...

You people reading my blog are lucky; you're getting a sneak peak at the finished piece. All previous incarnations have been works in progress and were close to the image above, but I hadn't sewn all the "birch logs" around the "All Your" and I added nifty three-D like backings to the branch work... really made it pop. Also, I sewed on that amazingly lewd edging- shiny plastic feathering that positively screams climate disaster! I hope Greta will be pleased with my efforts. She's an terrifically brave and inspiring woman! We need more like her.

I've been a bit remiss in posting to my blog as I'm attempting to re-work my website (uh... haven't gotten there yet!), finish up several in-progress works of art, clean my studio and studio annex (see previous posting), and arrange for the next step in my brilliant career. I did sell a small art work unexpectedly the other day; that always provides a disproportionately huge shot in the arm! I feel like, "Yes! the Universe thinks I'm on the right path!" or at least I have some money to buy more iridescent plastic feathering to add onto another piece. Heavens! I'm probably accelerating the destruction of the planet with all my consumption of unnatural materials. Possibly it's produced from recycled content?

An Ultimatum

 

See this pile? This is furniture and assorted things form our deceased mother's (aka "Mommy") house. These items have resided in my Studio Annex- essentially rendering it useless- for how many years now? Three? Four? Five? I started shuffling through this ungodly heap a few weeks back. But it hit me yesterday: the things in this pile have got to go!

Anybody out there want a table? A beat-up desk? An ornately carved chair? All going to the highest bidder! One of my sister's (*1)received an ultimatum yesterday. That "brown rectangle" (as they're referred to in the antiques world) is now officially your problem; do with it what you will! 

I am retiring to the Studio Annex now, when I finish this post, to attempt to deconstruct the heap and start selecting items to photograph. What a Herculean job!! Wish me luck...

And here's one of the busted lamps. I sincerely do wish they were all worth a fortune... or even a couple of hundred bucks! But I must be realistic and say probably not worth much.

As one of my sisters helpfully pointed out, once this room is cleared I'll have so much more space! Uh... yeah, that's the idea!

(*1) I only have two... they know who they are.