Saying yes...

I've been bitten by the meme bug...

Kathleen of Diary of a Heretic: Memes, Reviews and Books, has bestowed upon me the chance to play. It's an easy one, too. One word answers! Lots of room for negative space! It's really more like word association, so let me find a comfy couch and channel Dr. Freud...

Off we goooooo!

Yourself: Creative
Your Partner: Detailed
Your Hair: Crazy
Your Mother: Complex
Your Father: Ditto
Your Favorite Item: Pillow
Your Dream Last Night: Silly
Your Favorite Drink: Coffee
Your Dream Home: Peaceful
The Room You Are In: Office
Your Fear: Failure
Where Do You Want to be in 10 years: Here
Who You Hung Out With Last Night: Truman
What You Are Not: Neat
Muffins: Huh?
One of Your Wish Items: Room
Time: Gift
Last Thing You Did: Drive
What You Are Wearing: Dimples
Your Favorite Weather: All
Your Favorite Book: Lots
Last Thing You Ate: Strawberries
Your Mood: Expansive
Your Best Friends: Missed
What Are You Thinking About Right Now: Projects
Your Car: Un-Me
Your Summer: Promising
What’s on your TV: Nothing
What Is Your Weather Like: Mellow
When Was the Last Time You Laughed: Earlier
What is your relationship status: Married

Go check out Kathleen M's as well. She's got a wonderful post up about the woman who tagged her and although I could write about it as well, I'm not going to reinvent a perfectly good wheel.

I now tag... Oh! It doesn't say how many!??! Maybe I missed it. I'll just wing it. I will tag some of the usual suspects.

Snag
TLB
fish
Mary Jane
johnny rotten of sunnybrook farm
Shayera

Would you like your time now or later?

The 20th Century was a time of great technological discovery. One area that flourished was time-saving techniques. Machines made doing chores faster and more efficient. Microwaves cut down on cooking times. Prepackaged foods make cooking almost obsolete. Over the years though it has become apparent that a lot of these time-savers are not good for us and may actually shorten our lives.

The thought or question that's been bouncing around in my head is, in saving time during our present, are we actually losing time in the end? Does it all even out? Over the span of your life, time-saving steps may actually gain you say 10 or more years of productive time, but is that worth it if the time-saver actually takes 10 years off of your life span? Is it a wash?

Would you still prefer to save the time it takes to cook things from scratch by eating fast food or preprepared meals even if it doesn't save you time in the end and you die earlier??? Would you go back to a harder way of life it it meant you'd live longer?

I'm sure there are plenty of flaws in the logic of this question, but I'd love to see a chart to see if we are really doing ourselves a favor or if we're robbing Peter to pay Paul.

A Question for Dan Leo

Addition below:

This morning, Dan Leo left a very poignant comment for my "lost at blogging sea" post. Instead of paraphrasing, I'll just include the entire comment:

Hey, Jen, you know I love to write, but believe it or not I'm also a big fan of not writing when I have nothing to say. Here are some lines from a poem called "so you want to be a writer" by Charles Bukowski:

if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words.
don't do it...

if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else...

unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it...

Those were good words. They definitely ring true as far as other creative endeavours I've pursued. It made me wonder about something though. Last week in my painting class, a woman who is rather new to artistic endeavors told me that she was intrigued with the open spaces in the still life. She liked the spaces between the objects. Those words were music to my ears. Those words meant that even though she may not yet have the skills to translate what she sees, she sees it! She's thinking like an artist. I told her this and said that negative space can be some of the most exciting space in a painting. The space between objects can has its own weight, its own atmosphere, its own tension and excitement. Even if you're painting an object, what's not there and how it's placed can have as much impact on the painting as what is. I was wondering what the negative space in writing would be. I write in this blog, but do not in the least consider myself a writer so when Dan Leo stopped by this morning, I thought, aha! Dan! Dan is a writer...

So Dan... what would you consider the negative space in writing? Would it be the pauses in between sentences? The economy of words? Would we even see the negative space in the finished copy or would the negative space have occurred when the writer was taking a break? Would the reader only know the negative space was there somewhat like a contrail informs a person that a plane had gone by? Where is the negative space in the written word and is it as important for the written word as it is for a painting or drawing?

For those of you not familiar with Dan, you should be. I don't read all that Dan is writing right now, but I have been a faithful follower of his Arnold Schnabel series, "Railroad Train to Heaven". The memoirs of Arnold, a brakeman from Olney, PA who's on mental disability, is also a poet, who spent part of the summer of '63 partying with The Rat Pack, Jesus, and just recently time-traveled via a painting to visit with Proust and Toulouse-Lautrec, are not to be missed.

Any of you other writers out there, feel free to chime in. I'd ask BP, but he's merely the grammar police...

Addition to the other writers who might so graciously chime in... Dear. Lord. How could I forget to add THIS ONE and THIS ONE  and then there's THIS ONE!?!??

Brief Celeb(?) Dream Sighting...

Update and correction below, thanks to aif!

I've been having a recurring dream for the past 5 days... I've been trying to paint and can't. It feels like I'm painting with mittens on. I wake up feeling kind of relieved, yet still kind of panicked. I know I know how to paint better than I am in those dreams and yet, those dreams keep coming back. Even if I wake up and realize it's a dream, if I go back to sleep, I'm painting with shoes on my hands or with my eyes shut or something that keeps me from doing what I know how to do. This is obviously a reaction to last week's painting class. That one got to me, I'm still not sure why it got to me on the level it did, but my sleeping brain is still trying to file the experience away.

Last night, my dream took a turn for the bizarre! I was having the same dream, I was trying to paint with something that looked like a large bbq basting brush when someone came in the room and said he was here for his date. I had no idea who his date was until he informed me it was me!! This man did not look like my type. For that matter, I had a feeling that I was not his type. He kind of reminded me of Liza Minnelli's ex-husband... he then took off his large black and gold, rhinestone encrusted sunglasses. IT WAS LIZA MINNELLI'S ex-husband! It was David Guest!!

I was sitting very close to him, still holding my basting brush and was noticing that he was really waxy looking. He also looked like he had been spray-painted. He was talking, I don't remember about what. He seemed nice enough, but he was rambling on when I noticed a twisted bit of Kleenex sticking out of one ear. I felt kind of embarrassed for him. He must have been wiping shaving cream from his ear and some tissue got stuck. He didn't look though like he ever needed to shave. He then turned his head and I saw that he had a twisted Kleenex in his other ear. He could hear what I was saying so I'm guessing he didn't have them in there to keep out noise.

I never figured out why I was going on a date with David Guest. We never went in my dream. He just kept on talking and I just kept looking at his Kleenex-laden ears,  his waxy skin and his HUGE sunglasses. I was also distracted by my bbq basting brush. I hoped that some day I would remember how to paint again.

Update: Last night was the first night where I did not have the recurring *unable to paint* dream. Apparently David Guest saved me. If you're having a recurring dream that you'd like to get rid of, might I suggest you request a dream appearance by Mr. Guest. I have no idea why it works, but apparently it does. Oh... it also could have been the fact that I finished part of a demo for my class yesterday and my weirdo brain finally remembered that I can still handle a paintbrush.

Update II:  LOL!! NO!!! It was not David Guest... it was David Gest! My thanks to aif and my apologies to the late David Guest.

ATPCT: Sometimes you just show up

I had to go to painting class yesterday. I did not want to go. I really haven't wanted to go for awhile... not totally sure why, but yesterday I had to go. I had taken the previous week off due to illness and I knew that had probably thrown my group into a tizzy. As a matter of fact, I knew it did when I started receiving calls 30 minutes before class was to start as to why I wasn't there. Cancellation calls had been made, a sign had been put up, but that didn't matter. There's a routine and I was messing with it so yesterday, come hell or high water, I had to go.

I had absolutely nothing planned. I still have not found my groove in that respect. There are those who just want to use it as studio time and I am fine with that, but there are a number of others who want an exercise, a demonstration... there are those who are hoping I will tell them how to do what they have not been able to figure out for the past 50+ years. I hope and pray every week that I'll find the magic answer, but I know there isn't one.

I was searching for the magic answer yesterday, wondering what to do since we had gotten off of the schedule and I knew people would not be coming in prepared. I spouted this out to my sister who suggested I just show up and let them know that sometimes showing up is the best you can do. At least if you show up, something can and might happen. It may not be what you expected, but at least the chance is there, so... I showed up.

It was a smaller class yesterday which was nice. The class is too big for anything truly meaningful to happen. Sometimes I think the class is too set in its way for any meaningful thing to happen. I'm not even sure why I feel I am supposed to make something meaningful happen. It's not in the course description. "Explore the world of oil painting! Work with shadows and light! During every class, something meaningful will happen. For an additional $25, you'll get twice as much meaning out of every class!!" And yet I feel the onus of creating meaningfulness. Maybe I just want it for myself.

Yesterday's class wasn't all struggle. I had some good discussions, we had some good laughs. One of the people is moving into an assisted living situation. She doesn't want to, but her children don't want her living alone any longer. The other students keep telling her how she'll love it, how she'll probably meet a lot of men. She said she's done with men. Men to her just make her think of stinky socks. I told her she'd probably find even more men since she wasn't looking. I suggested we start a pool to see who could come the closest to picking the date she met someone and their age. She said although she's not looking, she'd prefer younger.

Yesterday's class was OK. It was neither good nor bad. I doubt anything miraculous happened. No... yesterday, I just showed up.

Ahhhhh, there's nothing like the relief of finding out what it is you've been looking at...

I like animals. I like seeing what will show up around my home. Ok, I was not so happy with the mice that made their way through out attic, into our basement, but still, I'm always happy when I see that our surroundings are animal-friendly, animal-inviting if you will.

My computer faces a window that has a large fire bush right next to it. Even if I could see nothing else, I could probably tell what time of year it was by which type of bird shows up in that bush. That bush gets a lot of action. I've even seen little teeny-tiny hummingbirds perching in it during late summer. That's a very odd site, one I'll never get used to.

During this time of year that bush is visited by a lot of Juncos (I like to call them snowbirds) and the occasional Cardinal which is why I was surprised when I saw a Junco-sized bird show up that was definitely not a Junco. This bird had a dark head, some white around the head or neck, a rusty breast and it was a steely blue-gray. I had no idea what it was. I looked in my Audubon book. That didn't help. I looked online. That didn't really help either. I asked my bird-friendly, blogging friend, Lance. He suggested it might be a Chickadee of sorts since they like to hang out with Cardinals.

Ok... I can buy that. I looked up Chickadees, but it was not the black-capped one and the one it most resembled didn't really show up this far north. I put it out of my mind until today, when at our bird feeder was a bright steely-blue bird with a red chest and that black head with white! It couldn't be a bluebird... they don't have black. What was it!?!?

I tried to get a photo, but was inside and the window I was at still had a screen on it. The camera kept focusing on the screen! I went back to the internet... maybe I could put in the right combo of words and teh Google would deliver my bird! It didn't deliver my bird, but it delivered the next best thing... a site that would ask me questions relevant to my bird and then we could pare it down.

I found my bird! I then found it in my Audubon book. I had been looking in the wrong part. I had assumed it was a perching bird because I had first seen it in the bush and then on a feeder. It's not a perching bird. It's a tree-clinger. I even took photos (bad photos... blame the screen) of it today, CLINGING TO THE TREE... it didn't dawn on me that it was a tree-clinger until Lance asked me if I had seen it "walk up the tree".

Oh wait! I haven't even told you what the bird is yet, have I?!? It's a Red-breasted Nuthatch. It's adorable. It's really blue against the snow and the blue/orange combo of it reminds me of my favorite sneakers I had as a young girl...

Lance told me to keep an ear out for its laugh. He said it sounds like a mad woman locked in the attic. I love that! I asked him how I'd be able to differentiate it from my own cackles... He was too gentlemanly to respond.

Well, that's it. I've got bird-closure. It was some excitement in what was otherwise a day filled with rather mundane tasks.

Can I get a tax deduction on donated beliefs?

The other night as I was slipping into a familiar and not so beneficial thought pattern, I realized this particular thought did not really serve me anymore. It may have served a purpose back in 1977 or even in 1982, but it really did nothing for me now. I wasn’t even sure I liked it for nostalgia purposes. I don’t foresee a day when I’ll need this thought, this belief, stashed safely away. I wanted to get rid of it.

I then thought of the numerous times I’ve packed up items for Goodwill, Amvets, etc. I’ve taken perfectly good items that we no longer need and send them off to someone who does. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could do that with out-dated ideas, beliefs, certainties.

I have beliefs my father gave me. They are really lovely beliefs, but some no longer fit my life. I have some certainties my mother sent me off with long ago. Not all of those work for me anymore. I even have some notions that a well-intentioned neighbor passed on to me, but in reality, they don’t really work with my mental landscape. They need to go as well. So, I sat myself down and just as I would before giving away a few boxes of donations, I made an itemized list. I listed every belief, notion, thought, idea that I had bouncing around in my head and mentally sent them off. They are not without use, they just don’t work for me anymore, hanging onto them does me no good, and I definitely know I don’t want to pass them on to my children.

Every so often over the past couple of days one of these discarded thought habits will pop into my head and just like an old sweater I have recently donated, I will go look for it only to remember, I gave it away. I check the list and sure enough, there it is, gone. Time to find something else with which to occupy my brain.

I still have some wonderful beliefs, some so warm and familiar I will take them to my grave, but it’s also nice to clear things out. It’s not worth keeping something that no longer serves a purpose. Yes, it’s nice to clear things out and make room for something new. I never want to be so old and certain that I can no longer be amazed.  Realizing you have a new belief, a new thought, a new notion, is still exciting.   

Is it just me???

Or is this week just slightly off? I know we've all got things going on in real life, but I can't help, but feel that somehow things are askew... like someone's turned the gravity up too high or the tilt of the earth is off.

I can't quite put my finger on it, but there seems to be ennui plugging the internetz, a malaise if you will.

I'm getting the urge to buy some Balinese temple bells to clear these cobwebs... maybe I'll burn some sage. I keep getting the feeling that the earth needs to be stretched out and snapped back into shape.

Maybe it's just me.

I think it all started with Billy Pilgrim and his orange goo.

Ideas, ideas everywhere and not a drop to think

A number of years ago, when I felt trapped at a job I no longer wanted, I also felt devoid of ideas. I had a couple of them, but not the torrent of ideas I usually had. I had one or two and I hoarded them. I was afraid to use them because then I would officially be out. A life at this job without creative ideas sounded like hell. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get any more ideas percolating so I kept the ones I had in a gilded cage. Every once in awhile, I’d take them out and play with them, but when they got to the point where they seemed as though they were going to take off, I’d quickly shut them up again. If they took off or changed, I wouldn’t have them anymore and so there they sat, becoming increasingly sad and listless.

Again I would think of days where the ideas were endless, how they came to me like air, but in those days, I played with them on their terms. I had no demands, no rules, but rather we were in a collaborative relationship. They were like my dog. If I yelled and yelled and chased and chased, he would not come, but if I stopped chasing and got down on my knees, he’d no doubt come running to me, tail wagging.

During this dry time I had a dream where I was struggling with a lack of creativity when I realized I had a large funnel on the top of my head that was labeled “CREATIVITY” (I think even my dreams realized now was not the time for nuance, but a time for blatant messages). It was actually going into my head, and above my head, attached to nothing, was a large faucet with a handle that said *on* and *off*. It of course, was in the *off* position. I reached up and turned it on. That simple. I turned it on and let what came, come.

I’ve never forgotten that dream, but sometimes I still harbor a scarcity mentality and at those times, I can literally feel my faucet turning off. I may be hoarding or may be trying to control too much, directing the course of the idea with dictatorial diligence rather than just playing with it and seeing where we can go together. It’s when I merely answer their invite to play that they keep coming back and bring more of their friends.

Creativity is not owned, it is a friendship and like all friendships, should be nurtured. It lives somewhere else, but if we’re lucky enough, it comes over to visit and showers us with fun and possibilities. It asks us out to play. The minute you start bossing it around, it turns on its heel and goes home, shutting the faucet off in the process.

Today while I was out doing some end of season weeding, I was struggling with a creative problem. I had gripes and rants going around in my head. I wanted to know the answer, wanted to know where this was going to end and how this was going to help ME!  I got the image of my faucet being turned off. I smiled, stopped thinking my grumpy thoughts and just focused on the weeds. By the time I was finished, the faucet was back on and I was ready to play.

As the Painting Class Turns: Episode 3- I'm Dyin' Here!

I'm starting to think of my painting class as the Catch-22 group. They want to learn, want to improve, want to grow, but don't want to do anything I suggest for possible growth. Many of them want to be looser with their approach. I suggested we do fast, 20 minute paintings. Working fast can loosen you up. Not worrying about your end result can loosen you up. They were not game and asked for other ideas.

I suggested standing. I suggested painting from the shoulder and not just the wrist. I suggested using bigger brushes and not holding it right up at the ferrule, but further back. Their response? No, no, and no. They're old, they don't want to or can't stand. They're old, they don't want to or can't use their entire arm. They're old, they don't want to learn a new way to hold a brush.

But... they do want to become better painters. They want me to suggest changes they could make, just don't tell them to change. They want me to point out what they could do differently, because they know something is off... just please don't tell them anything is off.

They're a nice group. They're fun to chat with, but I'm there to instruct them... I'm there to make them "better" painters whatever better might mean. They say that's what they want even though everything they do says otherwise. They want me to demonstrate and I will demonstrate the best I can although I know that half the time when you're doing something and you're doing it well, you don't know how or why it's happening. You just know you showed up at the right time or have done enough time that you were actually present for a breakthrough.

I came home yesterday  with the definite impression that a lot of learning was going to be going on in this class and the one doing the learning was going to be me and it was going to have very little to do with painting.