A Diversionary Post

 

Picture of me, above partially minus my head (*1), astride, as a diversion. And I may well be posting as Neko and I are at the trot- a gait to which one posts (*2). And I'm posting a post to my blog so let's discuss how confusing the English language is. Or not!

Okay, so I've established my attempts to divert my own mind away from what's seriously on it: the (not-so) supreme court. All I am going to say is I am so out of my mind in wonder and anger that the conservative majority has proven to be so radically out of step with the average American and has imposed their Draconian religious views on all of us. Did that sentence even make sense???!?! You get my point... I'm truly pissed off.

Whether it's relaxing concealed carry laws (a day after Congress passed the first (modest) efforts at gun control in a decade) or it's reversal of Roe vs Wade (a day after the fourth January 6th hearing showing The Orange Menace and CO attempts to subvert the Justice Department), the supreme court has basically affirmed Clarence Thomas' view that the people's voices just don't count.

I'm with Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez in saying that several justices should be impeached for lying under oath to the Senate. No one is above the law. Or so we can hope!

So there is now steam spewing from my ears and I'm probably red in the face. But I had a lovely ride and Neko and I are making fine progress together. My trainer (hello Maiya!) who took the above picture, is challenging me and helping me become a better rider. So some things in life are pleasant despite my ongoing consternation about the State of the Nation. And seeing as how our car died (*3), I may need to ride my pony into town to do the shopping.

(*1) But in riding, who needs a head? A useful equestrian adage about the proper position of a rider on a horse, "Shoulders of a queen, hands of a lady, hips of a whore". Hahhahahaha! No mention of your head!

(*2) Posting to you non-equestrians out there is the act of rising and resitting when the horse trots. You rise when the outside leg of your mount is forward and you sit when the inside leg is forward. It prevents bouncing and is easier on the horse's back. And to further complicate matters, you CAN sit the trot. Utilizing your core muscles, you can learn to absorb the bounce. Advanced dressage requires that you sit the trot but I'm not there yet!!

(*3) Yes, Trusty died. More on that in an upcoming post!

More Garden Charm!

 

Well... that picture looks sorta small and doesn't convey the extended view through the garden. It took me by surprise: I was hard at work on the back side of the Blue Garden and I looked up and realized that there is an incredibly long perspective all the way through the Blue Garden, past one of Bob's fabulous (new) sculpture, past the golden Chamaecyparis obtusa "Crippsii", past the Rosa rugosa all the way to the horse barn. Why had I never partaken of this view?

(Delphinium in a cage! It keeps them from toppling in the wind (and goodness knows we've had monster winds of late!) and it keeps Robin the Good and myself from running into them when we're at work in the garden. Gotta love that blue color!)

Probably I was too hard at work, planting, edging, weeding and generally trying to get this year's garden into shape. And I'm almost done. (*1) I have a couple of orphans still in need of the perfect home- a stray Anagallis monelli, two small cups of Morning Glories, a few other stragglers. But most of the heavy lifting is done and the garden looks pretty damned good!

An overhead picture of a cluster of containers on the corner of the terrace. Dizzying but in a good way. Oh and Happy Summer Solstice!

(*1) Ah yes! the eternal question... is the garden EVER "done"? There is- inevitably- a section that could have benefited from editing, or rethinking. My gardens always have at least one problem zone. I know the area I'm thinking of right now; not sure what to do about it. Alas!

So Busy I Forgot to Blog!

 

I suppose this is a mea culpa. Spring is a notoriously busy time for gardeners (and artists! (*1) what with buying plants, planting seeds and plants and digging out dead and dying remains of last year's gardens. When I checked my last posting, I realized it was from two weeks ago. I don't think I've ever gone this long between spurts of words.

So I am illustrating my blog with attractive pictures of what's happening here in our garden-in-progress. I mowed the lawn yesterday (beautiful weather!) and the beds- some of which I have actually weeded and edged!- are set off to perfection. Add in the misty, overcast fog of this morning and you have what looks like an English garden. Just in time for the Queen's millionth birthday or something jubilee-ish!

So while running around multi-tasking and generally moving at warp speed and trying to do everything at once, I have stopped occasionally to muse on those weird individuals who do absolutely no gardening at all. I remarked to a fellow plant-enthusiast with whom I was out purchasing horticultural delights, "Look! There's one of those exotic houses perched on a wide expanse of green lawn with nothing interrupting it! How... unusual!" Indeed, I was tempted to snap a picture to immortalize the sheer brazen nakedness of their landscape. How do they resist the urge to plant? To fill that void up with flowers and shrubs and trees... I see it as an unrealized opportunity; I guess they see it as an E-Z care, no-brainer on the order of polyester no-iron sheets or microwaveable plastic-wrapped meals. In my mind, I am laying out garden beds and designing magnificent borders. But the inhabitants of these unadorned houses are the first to exclaim, "So much work!" when they see our gardens...

Yesterday, every machine in a three mile radius was bellowing their song: weed whackers, mowers, chain saws, back hoes... nice weather and work to be done! The immediate next-door neighbors joined in with several work men accompanied by several large pieces of equipment shoveling and pushing and grading. I thought, "Hey! Maybe they've spied how lovely our yard looks and have decided to plant more attractive shrubs and ornamentals!" But what actually transpired, after the dust had settled and the workmen had departed, was that they'd had foundation plantings removed. The front of their house (*2) was stripped bare and you could now see the railings of their porch. Ironically, Bob and I had recently admired (from a distance) how pretty their full blooming red and white azaleas were... no more. Gone! I imagine they didn't want to prune or dead head.

 

In an abstract way, sort of like trying on some one else's glasses, I try and understand the urge to remove plants; to Marie Condo your garden... make it tidier, emptier and easier to maintain. But I say you can have it. I want abundance, fertility, over-blown, stuffed garden beds bristling and brimming with flowers and foliage and bugs and butterflies. Nature abhors a vacuum... and so do I!

(*1) In my own defense I am in 4 shows at present. that was a lot of finishing/getting ready/delivering to do, along with installing garden delights. I need  an assistant.

(*2) And (sorry!) their house is bland and not much to look at. Now it's even more anonymous. Sad.

It's Show Time!

 

After a two and a half year break from actual, physical, in-person art exhibits, it feels really good to be in a show at a gallery with real-life (or possibly "life-like") people in attendance. We certainly hope last night wasn't a super-spreader event, but maybe it was worth the risks.

As a friend correctly pointed out a few days ago, I have been lamenting not showing frequently enough- and then I was suddenly in three shows. Hahahaha! I guess I've been laying the groundwork; sewing up a storm and doing some out-reach and having a couple of studio visits. I have been busy and I have the minute puncture wounds all over my finger to prove it...

Above, a soft sculpture (in a private collection no less!) that's inspiring me to re-visit the word "resist". After last weeks leaked Supreme Court draft, I think at least 1/2 the population of this country should involve themselves in whatever acts of resistance they see fit. Like I intone all too frequently, DON'T GET ME STARTED!!! I am beyond pissed off, but thank goodness I can channel my rage into something productive like art. 

The piece at the top is a good case in point. "Women on Top" came about in a spontaneous self-challenge, driven by dead lines and the crazed desire to be in a museum show. Yes, when needed, I swallow everything resembling  principles and simply push myself. I really need to show my work and I really need to believe that someday, somewhere my hard work will pay off. Hahahhahahaha! That's the ringing of deranged laughter that you hear!!!

Losing your Mind While Gardening

 

Don't say I haven't been trying! It's Spring, the birds are singing, the sun is shining... and we've had nothing but incredibly strong, gusting wind for three straight days. If you dare to step outside, the wind knocks your hat off, takes your breadth away and destroys any impetus to do whatever it was that you went out to do.

 Like rake leaves? Ha! Three times I piled the leaves on my tarp and three times a bloody blast from Hell swept them up and sent them spilling all over the lawn. Reminds me of the stories of the Mistrals of France, where violent winds drive people crazy. I have an entire arms-length list of projects that are entirely on hold.

 And then the lawn men descended next door. These human locusts propel themselves back and forth over our neighbor's lawn creating a deafening roar. Only problem is that the lawn hasn't even begun to grow and what with that aforementioned wind there are clouds of dirt and dust. It now looks like a scene from The Grapes of Wrath out there.

 And to add the proverbial icing to the metaphorical cake, the air has been heavily scented with diesel fumes as one of the neighbor's kids is now driving an ancient diesel powered truck. He conscientiously allows it to warm up for fifteen or twenty minutes before driving off in a plume of acrid smoke. Typically, this coincides with my feeding my poor horses who are by now suffering from black lung, covered in dust and losing their minds due to that wind.

I'm staying inside until next month. Bye!!! (*1)

(*1) Yes! The tulips were all brought inside; they're supposed to be for Bob's birthday, but they were a bit early. Now they're exploding and shattering all over the house. We have multiple vases of them.

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.